Disclaimer: Thunderbirds doesn't belong to me. Though I wish they did. (Especially Thunderbirdone's pilot...SIGH)

Gordon tirade's had gone on for 10 minutes. Alan swiped his hand over his face. This speech was getting louder and longer.

"ENOUGH will you! I've heard every excuse you have to offer, Gordon. Let's just face it. You're just not chief mechanic material. Brains invented this car and he knows what she's all about. Now if you want to help, you can be his assistant," he offered as an alternative solution.

"Assistant...?" Gordon sputtered. "You...want me to be his assistant?" A hint of jaded negativity sounded in his voice. "Oh, I see. In other words, you want me to the fetch and tote boy?!" He cocked his head, giving his younger brother a sideways glare.

The amber eyes on the fourth Tracy son squinted and narrowed, "But you said I could be Chief mechanic," he shot back.

"No, Gordon, you appointed yourself in that position. Now you can take it or leave it. Make up your mind." Alan responded, his demeanor now more like his father when his mind was made up.

Gordon's face was now as red as his hair, "I'm leaving it. You can keep that stupid hunk of junk." He turned on his heel and stalked off.

Alan was not surprised at his brother's answer. Gordon, though always the happy prankster, had a temper that was to be reckoned with. He shook his head and called out ,"LET ME KNOW IF YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND!" The last thing Alan heard was the door to the garage slam shut.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"How's it comin', Paw?" Ma Tuttle asked her husband.

"Wahl, Maw, Ah've tuned 'er up as best Ah ken," Jeremiah replied, pulling his head out from under Betsy's hood. "Ah think she'll do awl right with thet fuel Ah made from yer beans, Maw. Gonna test 'er out right now."

"Ken Ah come along fer th' ride, Paw?" Maw asked, a gleam in her rheumy eye.

Jeremiah scratched his head, pushing back his hat. "Ah dunno, Maw. It maht be dangerous."

"Pshaw, Paw! Yew know Ah ken handle it! Ah cooked them beans in the fust place!" Maw exclaimed.

Jeremiah shook his head. "Wahl, ohkay, Maw. Let's test ol' Betsy out."

************************

Jeremiah poured a quart of the fuel into Betsy's tank. Maw's eyes widened.

"Is thet all she needs?"

"Yep. Thet's all."

Jeremiah got into the driver's seat, and put on a pair of driving goggles.

"Whut do ye need them fer, Paw?"

"Ah 'spect thet they'll be lots o' dust at thet Pair-o-lah Sands place. Don' want it gettin' in mah ayes, Maw."

"Now, that's raht clever, Paw," Ma admired. "An' yew look so han'some in 'em tew." She squeezed his arm.

Jeremiah sat up straighter, a pleased look on his face. He turned over the engine.

"Purrs lahk a kitten, Maw!" He put Betsy in gear. "Hang on tew yer hat, Maw!"

As Betsy leapt away, tires squealing and spattering mud everywhere, Jeremiah and Maw were slammed back into their seats. Despite her best efforts, Maw's best Sunday hat went flying off.

"Wahooooo!" shouted Jeremiah. "Yeeee haaawwww!"

Jeremiah shifted into second and Betsy went even faster.

"Look out fer thet curve, Paw!" Maw shouted, hiding her face in her apron.

"Hang on tight, Maw!"

Betsy went screaming around the curve, lifting up precariously on two wheels.

"Whoooo!" Jeremiah shouted as they came onto the straightaway, the wheels dropping down into place. Another shift, and the landscape around Betsy became a blur.

"Paw?!" Maw said shakily. "Ah'm not so shure...."

"One more gear, Maw! Jes' one more gear!" Jeremiah hollered. "Ready, set, here she goes!"

Jeremiah put Betsy into fourth, and the chassis began to shake. There was a loud *crack!*. He held on grimly to the steering wheel and brought the Model T around one more corner. Then he applied the brakes. The wheels locked and left a trail of rubber for yards as the jalopy skidded to a stop.

"Yee Haw! Thet was some ride, wasn't it, Maw?" Jeremiah turned to his wife and did a double take. She was sitting perfectly still, a look of surprise and terror on her face, hair all loose and brushed back severely from her forehead. She blinked once, twice, three times, then relaxed.

"Paw," she said shakily. "Ah'll nevah doubt yew agin. When yew tell me it's dangerous, Ah'll b'leve yew."

Jeremiah laughed heartily. "Wahl now, Maw. Yew don' have to wurry none about gettin' back t' the house. Ah'll take it nice an' slow, jes' fer yew."

"Paw, look'ee!" Maw brushed her hair out of her eyes and pointed to a gauge on the dashboard. Jeremiah's eyes opened wide, and his smile grew even wider.

"Well, if thet don' beat awl! I done broke mah spee-dom-eter!" Jeremiah started Betsy up again, this time using a light touch on the accelerator. He turned the car around and headed back to the cabin. "Yessiree, Maw. I b'leve we got us here a winnah."

************************

Unbeknownst to the couple, someone was watching them. Someone who had been watching them through binoculars for a few days now. Someone who was very, very interested in Jeremiah's bean fuel. Someone who clocked the racing Betsy with radar, totally shocked when the miles per hour kept climbing and climbing. Someone with swarthy Asian features and big bushy eyebrows.

He smiled. "Soon. Soon I will have the secret of that bean fuel. And then I will be able to better pursue the secrets of International Rescue!"