Day 14: Thank you/Passing Wind

Jeff sat on his chair at his desk. Just sat, not doing anything in particular.

The chair was both so comforting and familiar yet strange and foreign to him. It had been a new purchase, one of his first, when he had begun Tracy Aeronautics that turned eventually to Tracy Industries.

He'd sat on it every day of his working office life, and once the move to the island had been permanent, Jeff had ensured that the chair, along with his father's desk came with him.

He ran his hand lightly over the worn wood. The faint smell of the citrus polish his mom used reached his nose and he inhaled deeply. Lucy always favoured the citrus one, and his mom had carried on using it.

But it was also strange. Strange to be sitting on such a comfortable leather chair after almost eight years of perching on the metal bunk that doubled as his bed as well as his only chair. And the desk instead of balancing things on his knees or on the floor, the only worksurface he'd managed to salvage had been used to keep his meagre supplies.

Now. Now, there was so much he was thankful for.

Hands fell on his shoulders, and a gentle kneading started, causing him to relax his muscles. Jeff sighed as he leant back and his Mom bestowed a kiss to his forehead.

'Thanks Mom.'

He meant it. Thank you for everything, mom. Thank you for keeping my boys safe. Thank you for being here for them, for me. He never said it, but he meant it and Sally knew it all anyway.

Jeff pushed away from the desk and the two of them made their way downstairs for lunch. All his boys and Brains were there, tucking into sandwiches, and Jeff formally thanked MAX for the edible food.

After lunch Jeff followed Virgil down to the hangar where he spent a nice hour just watching his middle son working hard with Brains, tweaking something on one of the VTOL's. They worked so well together, two engineers completely at home with the technological marvels that the Thunderbirds were.

He was ever so thankful that they worked so well, all of his extended family. That they had been able to keep going with his dream and make it their own. That they had been there to rescue him.

Almost asleep on his feet, Virgil gently shook him and helped him up. Jeff pulled him into a hug. 'Thank you, son, for keeping everything running.' Virgil blushed and smiled.

He made his way back upstairs, a well-earned nap on the cards, nodding to Scott, now sat at the desk doing paperwork, while he made his way to the couch.

Sitting down heavily, the loud noise that suddenly rent the air would have caused a lesser man to jump up again. Instead, he sighed and glanced at Scott. His son was concentrating and hadn't noticed, but he noticed the guilty party, peeping around the corner. He frowned at the pair, and two innocent grins appeared before the terrible two disappeared. Jeff pulled the whoopee cushion out and shook his head.

Despite their ages, despite their occasional childish behaviour, his youngest two never failed to make him smile, even if he was the target of their pranks like now. He was thankful that they hadn't lost that fun side despite everything life had thrown at them.

He was woken up by the chinking of ice in a crystal tumbler, and he opened his eyes to see Scott and John standing before him. His eldest had a glass of amber liquid with ice held out in front of him and another, without the rocks, held in his other hand. John sat to one side of them, bottle of beer in hand.

Jeff gratefully took the very watered-down drink, thankful that he was at least allowed this much, and Scott sat down beside him. The three drank in silence, but it was a companionable silence.

The three sighed simultaneously, which led to them chuckling.

'Boys, I can't ever thank you enough for keeping everything going. Our family, iR, TI, everything.'

'Dad…'

'No, son. You both need to hear this. I never said it enough before I left, and now I'm back I intend to say it much more. Thank you.'

Scott and John smiled at each other, and John moved to his dad's other side. And Jeff found himself in a gentle Tracy sandwich.

'Thank you, Dad,' his sons chorused.