Later that night, Virgil emerged from his room wearing a smock, freshly
pressed brown pants with a huge patch of white he'd created by dumping his
paint all over them and his painters cap. A paintbrush was tucked behind
his ear and his palette, sparkling clean, was in one hand.
"Nice, Virgil," Scott looked at him with satisfaction as his brother turned around at his voice.
He looked Scott up and down, trying to decide what he was. The oldest Tracy boy was decked out in a three piece suit - black pants with matching jacket and a crisp white shirt, as well as black shoes that Virgil was sure you could see his reflection in. Scott fiddled with the bowtie around his neck, the final touch on the costume.
"What are you?" Virgil finally asked, thoroughly puzzled.
"You don't know?" Scott seemed taken aback and then grinned. He put on his serious face and looked squarely at Virgil. "Bond, James Bond." He drawled.
Virgil laughed. "I don't see the resemblance."
Scott made a move to hit him as two doors opened down the hall and Tin-Tin and John stepped out. Both made strangled sounds as they looked at each other's costumes.
John was the first to speak. "I thought I was being original," he said.
"So was I!" Tin-Tin answered, the amusement plain on her face. She looked down at her own blue clothes and the pale sash she wore from her shoulder to her waist and then up at John's similar outfit.
"Where'd you get yours?" John asked her, eyeing the blue uniform of International Rescue. He wore his own, one he'd dug out of his closet before leaving Thunderbird 5.
"Alan let me use it since he's doing his spell of satellite relief. No one ever sees me when we're on rescues, and I don't wear the uniform, so no one can recognize me."
"I can say the same. I'm always a few miles above the Earth." He smiled at her. "So, miss International Rescue, shall we go find Scott and Virgil?"
"No need to look for us," Scott choked out, trying his best to conceal his laughter.
"Go ahead, laugh all you want," John said with fake sternness.
"Thank. . .you." Scott began guffawing and had to hold onto Virgil for support. That didn't do him much good, as his brother looked just as unstable as him.
John offered Tin-Tin his arm and the two strutted past the laughing men and made their way down the stairs with mock superiority. Seeing James Bond and a painter with white splotches all over his pants with tears of laughter running down their face made John and Tin-Tin hold in their own chuckles until they reached the bottom of the stairs and were out of earshot.
After they'd had a good laugh, the two made their way to the dining room where the masquerade was going to be held. The tables had been pushed aside and wooden planks had been put down in front of the stage where a DJ's turntables were set up. People milled about in costumes of every size, shape and colour and John looked around in awe.
They recognized a familiar face in the far corner, cowering away from the people. John pulled Tin-Tin towards Brains. The engineer's face lit up as he saw them, relief shining in his eyes behind the thick glasses he always wore.
"Nice costume, Brains." John commented, taking in the wrinkled pants and long white overcoat over a stained blue shirt. He bit his lip in confusion. "What exactly. . .are you?"
This brought a timid smile to Brain's features. "A st-st-stereotypical s- scientist," he answered, running a hand through his stuck up hair and rubbing a small dab of black substance off his glasses. He looked like he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket.
John was surprised at the amount of humor Brains possessed under his serious and smart exterior. It was the perfect costume for the engineer, and he fit the look perfectly. Although John was the same age as Brains at 25, he didn't know the man as well as his brothers because he was usually in space rather than on Tracy Island where Brains lived with the family.
He snapped back to reality as he saw Brains admiring Tin-Tin's and his matching costumes. He was stammering something about why sashes were invented when John spotted his father entering the dining room. He excused himself and made his way through the crowd towards Jeff.
His father was very pleased with John's costume. Jeff wasn't wearing one with the excuse that he had forgotten to bring it. Since they weren't mandatory at the party, a lot of the more mature people had decided against dressing up. John wasn't sure if they were like Jeff and had forgotten or if they thought that the Halloween theme was too childish for their liking. Either way, John was glad to see all his siblings and Tin-Tin had decided on costumes.
Tin-Tin came over and greeted Jeff, then pulled John towards the dance floor as her favourite song came on. Every week it was something different, but he complied with her demands to dance without complaint, having been crammed in the space station for more than a month.
"How'd your dad?" John asked as they twirled around with all the other couples moving to the music.
"He's doing better. He wanted to come to the party but I told him to spend a bit more time healing."
"Hasn't it been a few days? Don't you think you're being a bit hard on him?"
Tin-Tin looked up at John. "Definitely not. Father's not as agile as he used to be, and I guess I just don't want to let him out of our room for fear that something else might happen to him. If Scott hadn't. . .hadn't. . ." She trailed off, her voice becoming choked up.
"Don't worry, Tin-Tin. Nothing's going to happen to Kyrano as long as we're around." He answered, hoping he wasn't getting cabin fever being stuck in the hotel room he was sharing with his daughter.
+++
James Bond and Virgil the artist walked into the restaurant after finding Gordon and getting their laughter under control. The team's aquanaut had rolled himself in tin foil and claimed to be Grandma Tracy's leftovers. Virgil and Scott had been quick to point out that when Grandma cooked, there never were any leftovers.
They found their dad and a table behind the dance floor. There was some trouble getting into their chairs because of the closeness between the tables but they managed and ordered some drinks from one of the traveling waiters.
"Are you a satellite, Gordon?" Jeff asked once they were seated.
Gordon looked down at his tin foil, which was rapidly beginning to unstick itself and fall apart. Then he glanced back up at his father. "No, I'm Grandma's leftovers."
Jeff chuckled and shook his head. "So, for sons, I have James Bond, an artist, a pile of meatloaf and an International Rescue agent. What a great amount of creativity," He joked.
The three grinned and peered at the people on the dance floor. Two matching blue uniforms caught Scott's eye and he pointed out John and Tin-Tin to the rest of the group. They had wondered where the two had gone.
"Alan's gonna be jealous," Scott teased as they came to sit.
John socked him gently in the side of the head before pulling out a chair for Tin-Tin and then one for himself.
"Don't sit down, Tin-Tin. I want a go at those dancing feet of yours." Virgil stood and whisked Tin-Tin back out to the dance floor as a new song started.
"Man, it's so hard having only one girl for all of us," said Gordon with synthetic sadness.
"One girl who's not even ours to date," John reminded his brother.
"Stupid Alan. He just had to claim her first, didn't he?"
"Boys, boys, boys," Jeff laughed. "There're plenty of females around here. Why don't you go ask one of them to dance?"
Gordon, Scott and John exchanged glances and then there was a scrape of chairs as the three jumped up and went in search of some girls. Jeff stared after them with a father's pride and went back to reading the menu.
+++
Two hours later Scott came back with a smile on his face. He joined Gordon and John at the table just as Virgil returned from the restroom and took his place beside Jeff.
"Why so happy, Mr. Bond?" Virgil asked, playing absently with the paintbrush sticking out from behind his ear.
"It's true." Scott replied vaguely as he sat down.
"What's true?" Gordon prompted, waiting for an answer.
"James Bond gets all the girls," Scott said, his smile widening. "I met the nicest Spiderwoman over at the bar."
"Spiderwoman and James Bond? Perfect, two crime-fighters."
"Be quiet, John." Scott's face smoothed into a daydreaming position and Virgil rolled his eyes.
"So tell us what she's like then, son," Jeff prodded, snapping Scott out of his dream world.
"She was really nice. And very interested in me. Actually, come to think of it, I know absolutely nothing about her." He admitted quietly.
"How about her name?"
Scott shook his head, a blush tinting his cheeks. "She dodged that question and I never thought to ask again."
"What exactly did you tell her about yourself then?" John asked tentatively.
"I told her what she asked. She seemed to already know a lot about me so I didn't have a lot to tell her."
"She knew about you? You didn't. . ."
"No, don't worry Virg. I didn't tell her anything about us or what we do." Scott scrunched his face up in confusion. "Now that I think about it, it seems like she was trying to get information." He vision clouded. "Darn, I think she was using me."
"Using you? For what?"
Anger replaced his soft expression. "She wanted me to tell her all about my life and of course I couldn't." He slammed his fist down on the table, jarring his glass of water.
John had one more question that might solidify his suspicions. "Did she approach you or did you approach her?"
"She came up to me."
"And what did she say?"
"She asked me if I was Scott Tracy." He looked up at his dad and brothers. "She knows who we are, and that we're on vacation. . .She knows who we are!" He repeated. Scott cursed quietly under his breath and rested his head in his hands. "I can't believe I fell for that."
"But you didn't tell her anything, right?"
"That's right. I know the rules, Dad, I wouldn't break them for some lady's sake unless I, as well as you all, trusted her."
"Do you know what she looked like?"
Scott shook his head in frustration. "She was dressed as a Spiderwoman, like I told you. She was wearing a full mask and everything."
John patted Scott reassuringly on the shoulder. "As long as you didn't tell her anything, then we should be okay."
"Just when I thought I met someone I'd like to get to know better, I end up realizing she was using me to get to us, and the whole organization." He sighed wearily and took a sip of his drink.
While John was making Scott feel better, silent questions flew around the table like electricity, spoken with looks and not words. Jeff didn't know about what had happened to Virgil and Scott in the last few days, and the others didn't plan on telling him unless it was necessary.
How much did this girl know, who was she working for, and did she have anything to do with the attacks on Virgil and Scott?
"Nice, Virgil," Scott looked at him with satisfaction as his brother turned around at his voice.
He looked Scott up and down, trying to decide what he was. The oldest Tracy boy was decked out in a three piece suit - black pants with matching jacket and a crisp white shirt, as well as black shoes that Virgil was sure you could see his reflection in. Scott fiddled with the bowtie around his neck, the final touch on the costume.
"What are you?" Virgil finally asked, thoroughly puzzled.
"You don't know?" Scott seemed taken aback and then grinned. He put on his serious face and looked squarely at Virgil. "Bond, James Bond." He drawled.
Virgil laughed. "I don't see the resemblance."
Scott made a move to hit him as two doors opened down the hall and Tin-Tin and John stepped out. Both made strangled sounds as they looked at each other's costumes.
John was the first to speak. "I thought I was being original," he said.
"So was I!" Tin-Tin answered, the amusement plain on her face. She looked down at her own blue clothes and the pale sash she wore from her shoulder to her waist and then up at John's similar outfit.
"Where'd you get yours?" John asked her, eyeing the blue uniform of International Rescue. He wore his own, one he'd dug out of his closet before leaving Thunderbird 5.
"Alan let me use it since he's doing his spell of satellite relief. No one ever sees me when we're on rescues, and I don't wear the uniform, so no one can recognize me."
"I can say the same. I'm always a few miles above the Earth." He smiled at her. "So, miss International Rescue, shall we go find Scott and Virgil?"
"No need to look for us," Scott choked out, trying his best to conceal his laughter.
"Go ahead, laugh all you want," John said with fake sternness.
"Thank. . .you." Scott began guffawing and had to hold onto Virgil for support. That didn't do him much good, as his brother looked just as unstable as him.
John offered Tin-Tin his arm and the two strutted past the laughing men and made their way down the stairs with mock superiority. Seeing James Bond and a painter with white splotches all over his pants with tears of laughter running down their face made John and Tin-Tin hold in their own chuckles until they reached the bottom of the stairs and were out of earshot.
After they'd had a good laugh, the two made their way to the dining room where the masquerade was going to be held. The tables had been pushed aside and wooden planks had been put down in front of the stage where a DJ's turntables were set up. People milled about in costumes of every size, shape and colour and John looked around in awe.
They recognized a familiar face in the far corner, cowering away from the people. John pulled Tin-Tin towards Brains. The engineer's face lit up as he saw them, relief shining in his eyes behind the thick glasses he always wore.
"Nice costume, Brains." John commented, taking in the wrinkled pants and long white overcoat over a stained blue shirt. He bit his lip in confusion. "What exactly. . .are you?"
This brought a timid smile to Brain's features. "A st-st-stereotypical s- scientist," he answered, running a hand through his stuck up hair and rubbing a small dab of black substance off his glasses. He looked like he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket.
John was surprised at the amount of humor Brains possessed under his serious and smart exterior. It was the perfect costume for the engineer, and he fit the look perfectly. Although John was the same age as Brains at 25, he didn't know the man as well as his brothers because he was usually in space rather than on Tracy Island where Brains lived with the family.
He snapped back to reality as he saw Brains admiring Tin-Tin's and his matching costumes. He was stammering something about why sashes were invented when John spotted his father entering the dining room. He excused himself and made his way through the crowd towards Jeff.
His father was very pleased with John's costume. Jeff wasn't wearing one with the excuse that he had forgotten to bring it. Since they weren't mandatory at the party, a lot of the more mature people had decided against dressing up. John wasn't sure if they were like Jeff and had forgotten or if they thought that the Halloween theme was too childish for their liking. Either way, John was glad to see all his siblings and Tin-Tin had decided on costumes.
Tin-Tin came over and greeted Jeff, then pulled John towards the dance floor as her favourite song came on. Every week it was something different, but he complied with her demands to dance without complaint, having been crammed in the space station for more than a month.
"How'd your dad?" John asked as they twirled around with all the other couples moving to the music.
"He's doing better. He wanted to come to the party but I told him to spend a bit more time healing."
"Hasn't it been a few days? Don't you think you're being a bit hard on him?"
Tin-Tin looked up at John. "Definitely not. Father's not as agile as he used to be, and I guess I just don't want to let him out of our room for fear that something else might happen to him. If Scott hadn't. . .hadn't. . ." She trailed off, her voice becoming choked up.
"Don't worry, Tin-Tin. Nothing's going to happen to Kyrano as long as we're around." He answered, hoping he wasn't getting cabin fever being stuck in the hotel room he was sharing with his daughter.
+++
James Bond and Virgil the artist walked into the restaurant after finding Gordon and getting their laughter under control. The team's aquanaut had rolled himself in tin foil and claimed to be Grandma Tracy's leftovers. Virgil and Scott had been quick to point out that when Grandma cooked, there never were any leftovers.
They found their dad and a table behind the dance floor. There was some trouble getting into their chairs because of the closeness between the tables but they managed and ordered some drinks from one of the traveling waiters.
"Are you a satellite, Gordon?" Jeff asked once they were seated.
Gordon looked down at his tin foil, which was rapidly beginning to unstick itself and fall apart. Then he glanced back up at his father. "No, I'm Grandma's leftovers."
Jeff chuckled and shook his head. "So, for sons, I have James Bond, an artist, a pile of meatloaf and an International Rescue agent. What a great amount of creativity," He joked.
The three grinned and peered at the people on the dance floor. Two matching blue uniforms caught Scott's eye and he pointed out John and Tin-Tin to the rest of the group. They had wondered where the two had gone.
"Alan's gonna be jealous," Scott teased as they came to sit.
John socked him gently in the side of the head before pulling out a chair for Tin-Tin and then one for himself.
"Don't sit down, Tin-Tin. I want a go at those dancing feet of yours." Virgil stood and whisked Tin-Tin back out to the dance floor as a new song started.
"Man, it's so hard having only one girl for all of us," said Gordon with synthetic sadness.
"One girl who's not even ours to date," John reminded his brother.
"Stupid Alan. He just had to claim her first, didn't he?"
"Boys, boys, boys," Jeff laughed. "There're plenty of females around here. Why don't you go ask one of them to dance?"
Gordon, Scott and John exchanged glances and then there was a scrape of chairs as the three jumped up and went in search of some girls. Jeff stared after them with a father's pride and went back to reading the menu.
+++
Two hours later Scott came back with a smile on his face. He joined Gordon and John at the table just as Virgil returned from the restroom and took his place beside Jeff.
"Why so happy, Mr. Bond?" Virgil asked, playing absently with the paintbrush sticking out from behind his ear.
"It's true." Scott replied vaguely as he sat down.
"What's true?" Gordon prompted, waiting for an answer.
"James Bond gets all the girls," Scott said, his smile widening. "I met the nicest Spiderwoman over at the bar."
"Spiderwoman and James Bond? Perfect, two crime-fighters."
"Be quiet, John." Scott's face smoothed into a daydreaming position and Virgil rolled his eyes.
"So tell us what she's like then, son," Jeff prodded, snapping Scott out of his dream world.
"She was really nice. And very interested in me. Actually, come to think of it, I know absolutely nothing about her." He admitted quietly.
"How about her name?"
Scott shook his head, a blush tinting his cheeks. "She dodged that question and I never thought to ask again."
"What exactly did you tell her about yourself then?" John asked tentatively.
"I told her what she asked. She seemed to already know a lot about me so I didn't have a lot to tell her."
"She knew about you? You didn't. . ."
"No, don't worry Virg. I didn't tell her anything about us or what we do." Scott scrunched his face up in confusion. "Now that I think about it, it seems like she was trying to get information." He vision clouded. "Darn, I think she was using me."
"Using you? For what?"
Anger replaced his soft expression. "She wanted me to tell her all about my life and of course I couldn't." He slammed his fist down on the table, jarring his glass of water.
John had one more question that might solidify his suspicions. "Did she approach you or did you approach her?"
"She came up to me."
"And what did she say?"
"She asked me if I was Scott Tracy." He looked up at his dad and brothers. "She knows who we are, and that we're on vacation. . .She knows who we are!" He repeated. Scott cursed quietly under his breath and rested his head in his hands. "I can't believe I fell for that."
"But you didn't tell her anything, right?"
"That's right. I know the rules, Dad, I wouldn't break them for some lady's sake unless I, as well as you all, trusted her."
"Do you know what she looked like?"
Scott shook his head in frustration. "She was dressed as a Spiderwoman, like I told you. She was wearing a full mask and everything."
John patted Scott reassuringly on the shoulder. "As long as you didn't tell her anything, then we should be okay."
"Just when I thought I met someone I'd like to get to know better, I end up realizing she was using me to get to us, and the whole organization." He sighed wearily and took a sip of his drink.
While John was making Scott feel better, silent questions flew around the table like electricity, spoken with looks and not words. Jeff didn't know about what had happened to Virgil and Scott in the last few days, and the others didn't plan on telling him unless it was necessary.
How much did this girl know, who was she working for, and did she have anything to do with the attacks on Virgil and Scott?