Dislcaimer: Thunderbirds is the property of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, as well as Carlton and Universal. No profit is intended to be made from this story; it is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended, and none should be inferred. All original characters are the property of the author. This story should not be used or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.
Agents
Late June 2018
A shadow fell across the warm waters of the Pacific, covering up the sun and stilling the life forms that lay just under the surface. The black spot trailed slowly along the ocean, passing from horizon to horizon with little more than the simple hum of a turbojet engine.
Inside the plane sat Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, her hands folded delicately across her lap, her mouth relaxed in a calm and refined expression. She glanced about the interior once or twice, taking care that every piece of luggage was in its place, then looked down at her own body. The pink sweater had escaped ruffling on the tarmac, she noted with much satisfaction, and the short plaid miniskirt – also a bright shade of pink – contrasted very nicely with the shirt.
All in all, Penelope was happy to be finished her last assignment with Intelligence, if simply for the reason that she could escape from wearing the hideous blue undercover garment that was her uniform.
The blonde reached up a hand and gently pulled down on a hanging drawstring. "Parker," she called, her voice accompanying the ringing of a bell in the cockpit.
"Yes, m'lady?" was the immediate reply, coming in over the speaker that was situated directly over Penelope's head. "Is there something that you need?"
"How long until we reach the island?"
"Ten minutes at most, m'lady," Parker responded. "It shouldn't be that much further."
"Excellent, Parker." The woman smiled at the thought that she would soon be shaking hands with an old acquaintance. Even if her suspicions, which had been festering and growing since she had run into International Rescue at the store fire, proved to be false, she still greatly looked forward to touching base again with Jeff Tracy.
Many things had happened to him, she knew, since they had last met in person. The funeral of her late father had been many years ago, and since then she and Jeff had kept in touch through letters and Christmas cards. Her father and the billionaire had been good acquaintances through business, and he had kept a close eye on Penelope since she had been orphaned. Her father had even granted the other man rights to his estate in his will, as her mother had died when she had been very young, and Jeff had been good enough to watch over things for her until she had turned eighteen.
It had not really been Jeff at first, Penelope remembered, but Lucy, a woman whom she had first met at the funeral and had taken an immediate liking to, who had watched over her. Though the letters always came in Jeff's name, it was Lucy's signature that always adorned the bottom. The correspondence had not ceased when the woman had passed away, and Penelope suspected that Jeff could not bring himself to stop doing something that Lucy would have kept doing until her senior years.
"How much have we not told each other," Penelope sighed, pushing aside a blond lock absently. "I've never mentioned my time with Intelligence, and I fear that he is hiding something as well."
Whatever the case, it was time to get back in contact with the man. She had things to discuss, and a proposition to put forward if it ever reached that point. There was a debt to be paid, no matter how small or unofficial it was, and a future to look to.
"The plane's coming in," Scott observed from the open deck of the home, his feet only a few short inches away from the pool edge. "Nice little craft. Horrible colour."
From behind Scott, Jeff Tracy laughed and shook his head. "That's her all right, Scott. I remember every Christmas card that she's ever sent has been pink. Every letter, pink letterhead."
"It's very bright," his son replied, looking ever so slightly disgusted at the prospect. "Why is she coming again?"
"Miss Creighton-Ward is the daughter of an old friend of mine, who unfortunately passed away several years back. She recently called me up and professed an interest in meeting face-to-face."
"Several years?" Scott raised a curious eyebrow. "I don't remember you going to the funeral."
"More than several," Jeff admitted, realising that it had happened longer ago than he had thought. "I guess it would have been more than ten years at least, since your mother went with me."
"Hmm." The young man's face furrowed in concentration. "Did the rest of us go?"
"Of course. There was no one to leave you with, except for my mother, and she was in no condition to be looking after five young children at that point. You had to come."
The words brought back a flash of memories to the elder Tracy. It had been almost that same time that his own mother had passed away, struck down by a simple illness that had taken its toll on her body for far too long. The elder woman had been strong to the end, though, even offering to take care of the boys so that Jeff and Lucy could travel to London alone. Jeff had not accepted the offer, of course, but it was the thought that mattered more than the offer itself.
Five months after the funeral, Josephine Tracy had passed away, and Jeff had found himself without any remaining family. He had been expecting it, of course, in fact had thought she would have passed away years earlier, save for her stark stubborn streak and determination. But it had still been a shock, one that he had not recovered from for some time after.
And then, only a few short years after it had happened, the family had planned a vacation to Switzerland over the Christmas break. Just a short excursion through the mountains, where he and Lucy could take a ride on one of the most technologically advanced monorails in the world.
"Dad?"
Jeff turned towards his son, whose face was now openly showing worry and concern for his father. "I'm all right," Jeff assured him, trying to put on a strong face for the sake of his son. "Just remembering." He glanced at the sky, only to see that the plane had vanished around to the other side of the island where the landing strip was. "We'd better be there when they arrive. I wouldn't want to play the part of the unfriendly host."
He knew, the moment that she stepped from the plane, her hair waving ever so slightly in the light breeze of the pacific. There was no mistaking her, no other person on the planet had her eyes, her smile, her almost unearthly grace . . . even the sophisticated pink ensemble was not enough to convince him otherwise.
A jumble of thoughts crossed Scott Tracy's mind at that moment. He truly didn't know what to think or what to do for that matter. In a few seconds Penelope was going to see him, thus revealing to her a secret that he had thought was honestly safe. He didn't know if he could trust her, though he believed, based upon his father's words and his own experience, that she was trustworthy.
He had to say something, had to do something other than stand in front of the plane, his mouth curved in an idiotic grin, his eyes opened in something like shock because he couldn't think of what to do!
Scott wasn't sure whether to be thankful or not when Penelope solved the problem herself. Strutting forward gracefully from the plane, she stopped a few feet in front of the two men and gave them a dazzling smile.
"Penelope Creighton-Ward, at your service." She turned her head ever so slightly, and her eyes – those wonderfully brilliant eyes – locked with Scott's. "Why Scott, what a surprise seeing you here."
He nodded dumbly, completely unsettled to even think of saying anything in response.
"You know each other? I mean, aside from when you met when you were children." The older Tracy's voice was ripe with surprise. "Penny, you never mentioned it in any of your letters."
The woman nodded slightly, turning to face the man. "I have met your son, Jeff, and not that long ago I might add." She smiled secretively. "There are some things that I would like to discuss, but not until we sit down and catch up a bit."
"I'll go get some drinks," Scott finally managed, slapping himself mentally for saying something so ridiculously stupid. "I'll have them ready in the kitchen."
As he quickly hurried into the house, he could distinctly hear the voices of his father and of Penelope mingling behind him.
"I've never seen him act so strange."
"It is completely my fault, I assure you," was the response, spoken in a smooth and lush tone.
Scott, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment, then in irritation, slammed the door behind him. The game, apparently, was not yet over, and he was already losing. If he weren't careful, if he didn't quickly smooth things over, the situation would become very . . .
Embarrassing, he thought darkly, vowing that the next time he saw her, he would do more than stare with his jaw hanging open. Secrecy was out the window, but so was a certain unofficial pact that he had made with himself long ago. Quite suddenly, Penelope Creighton-Ward had become very available. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the emotions in his chest, but he did understand one thing:
He wasn't about to let the woman leave without telling her exactly how he felt. That, of course, he still had to discover for himself. But an opportunity like this did not come every day.
Hoping that he wasn't catching his brother at a bad time, Scott quickly logged into the International Rescue system and activated the Thunderbird Five communications relay. The computer in the study hummed for a moment, then chimed and informed him on the screen that a link had been established. Smiling in relief, Scott sat himself down at the chair and waited as the program loaded. He had been tempted to find Virgil and talk to him – the younger man was home from school after his graduation – but had instead settled on John in the hopes that he wouldn't be prone to too much teasing.
Finally, the visual screen popped up on the monitor, with the subtly smiling face of John Tracy plastered in the middle of it.
"Hi, Scott!" The astronomer grinned widely upon seeing his brother, the smile pinching the corners of his eyes so that they nearly disappeared. "What's up?"
Unsure of how to begin, Scott simply shrugged and muttered, "Someone's visiting Dad."
John's eyes widened in surprise. It was very unusual for any visitors to come to the island, and even more unusual for them to come to see the boys' father. "Really? Who is it?"
"Penelope Creighton-Ward," Scott replied darkly, wishing that her name didn't have to be so ridiculously long. "Lady, I should add. Remember her?"
"Should I?" John thought for a long moment, hand on his mouth, then suddenly snapped his fingers. "Maybe. Blond hair, pretty smile?"
"That's the one," Scott sighed, falling back in the chair. "Gorgeous smile. Wonderful eyes." The last few words were nearly spat from his mouth. "Mind as sharp as the point of a knife."
His brother's eyes twinkled suspiciously, and when he spoke it was in a vaguely teasing tone. "That bad, huh? And I always thought you had your head on straight, Scott. I never thought you'd actually fall for a looker, let alone a smart one." The younger man shook his head slightly, another smile coming to his lips. "I remember her. We went to London for her father's funeral."
"So I find out now," Scott moaned quietly, banging his back against the chair rest for good measure. "Remember that woman I dealt with in London?"
"Which one?"
"I'm being serious!" Scott snapped, not appreciating the comical tone that his brother was taking. "The one at the fire, the agent. The one named-"
"Penelope," John finished, still laughing despite Scott's irritated glares. "Yeah, we should have seen that one coming. Dad never called her Penelope, though, so in all fairness you couldn't have known. But I've seen her on the television, apparently she's quite well known in Britain-" He stopped suddenly, his eyes growing unbelievably large over the monitor screen. "Scott," he whispered in a very subdued tone, "she knows."
"I know she knows." Feeling very helpless, Scott rubbed his face with his hands and leaned his head onto the back of the chair. "We were screwed the moment she saw my face. But I never thought she'd come here. I was sure that she didn't remember me, but I guess she did."
The two men both stared off into their respective spaces for a long moment, until John finally sighed and offered, "I remember her to be a trustworthy person."
"When she was what, ten?" Scott exploded, only to clam up in embarrassment at the outburst. "Seriously," he continued a little more quietly, "what do we know about her? She's probably already told Dad by now. Maybe she's cooking up some sort of deal to wring us for all the money that we don't have tied up in stocks."
"She's a part of Intelligence," John replied calmly, "so she would be used to keeping secrets. You don't know why she came here – maybe she honestly wanted to touch base with Dad again! Maybe you reminded her, and she wanted to see what we were up to."
"I screwed up." That was what he had intended to say when he first called John up. The entire mess was his fault, which was something that Scott hated to admit but knew was true all the same. His stupid flirting antics were going to cost them the organization – if only he had kept his mouth shut, his ego in check, and had never started trying to impress her in the first place.
"No you didn't," was the reply, spoken softly from the computer. "Scott you couldn't have known that she was a friend of the family. Besides, if you were honestly that attracted to her, could she really be that bad?" John gave a comforting grin.
"I suppose," Scott sighed, seeing the point that John was trying to make, but still unable to shake from his mind the knowledge that he could have made the situation less drastic. "I still should have been careful, though. I mean, it wasn't as if she really bowled me over. It was just the pleasure of being in the room with a real woman that got me, I guess. That's why I never –" his words trailed off as his desire to share them with John grew less and less.
Somehow, Scott wondered, John had already seemed to have figured out what he was trying to say, for the astronomer was bobbing his head up and down on the screen in silent thought.
"Don't kid yourself, Scott." John let out a long drawn out breath and met his brother's expression with a serious one of his own. "What are we supposed to do - pretend that we don't have feelings or that they mean nothing if they do exist? If Dad expects you to spend your entire life looking through a glass cage at the opposite sex then he's being very stupid. I don't think he's stupid, Scott, and I think he'll understand your situation. What you did was completely human."
"What I did was completely arrogant."
"You're still doing it!" John hissed, rubbing his face in dismay. "This is not all about you, Scott!"
The words slammed into Scott like a bullet. Slowly, as his body caught up with is brain, a faint red tint spread across his face and into his hairline. It was very hard to admit even in his mind, but John did have a distinct point. The situation was not magically going to be made better, and his constant whining about his mistake was not going to help any.
Still, John seemed to be oddly . . . irritable, perhaps, more than normal, for he was not generally so touchy when dealing with his siblings.
"But . . ." Logic won out, and Scott threw his hands up in the air, resigned. "All right, you've made your point."
"We'll deal with things as they happen. It's not always going to be a bed of roses for us living alone . . ." The young man's eyes grew distant, and he shook his head and smile sadly. "I remember it."
"The funeral?" Scott was almost envious of John, who seemed to remember a great deal more of that point in his life than he did. "It was ten years ago at least."
"Twelve," John corrected absently, "you were ten years old. I was eight."
"I don't remember much," Scott sighed, and in truth he didn't. There were just blurred flashes of colour, snippets of sound. A young girl, pretty blond hair done up in ringlets, dressed in black, standing in front of an ornate coffin . . . and another woman, older, blond hair pulled into a plain yet elegant ponytail, laying her hand on the girl's shoulder and whispering something quietly into her ear. "Mom was there." Of course she had been, for his father had said so, yet it was so much more tangible when he was able to see it in his own mind. "I remember that."
"Mom was really upset."
Scott's head snapped up, startled by the troubled and wavering tone that his brother spoke in. The young man's eyes were clouded over, as if he were lost deep in memory.
"It bothered her that Penelope was on her own," John continued, his voice quiet. "Don't you remember? Mom did everything to try and comfort her. We stayed in London for a week while she guided Penelope around and tried to help her get past the shock. I wonder," he stopped, and looked off screen at something that Scott couldn't see. "If she hadn't been there, I wonder if Penelope would have been all right."
Astounded that John could remember so much, especially about their mother, Scott simply shook his head and said nothing.
"I don't think she'd ever do anything to our family," John finished. "Mom did too much for her. Dad, too. He took care of all the legal matters that hadn't been looked after properly. Made sure she was looked after." He sighed. "Look where she is now. She's a beautiful and refined woman who's at the top of the social ladder where she comes from. Heck, Scott, if she fooled you that easily, then her head's pretty straight on her shoulders."
"I . . ." Scott sighed as well and turned to look out the window where he could vaguely make out the forms of his father and Penelope standing by the pool. "I'm glad you're here to tell me these things."
"Any time." John smiled and gave his brother a loose military style salute. "Now that we've sorted that out, are you going to sit in here until she leaves or are you going to go do something?"
That was a good question, Scott thought, a touch of intrigue coming back into his mind. "I don't know," he replied slowly, already formulating a plan of action in his mind. "But I do know that I intend to finish what she started."
"She started?" John raised an eyebrow. "All right then, good luck with that. However, I won't be around to pick up the pieces of you when you're finished, so make sure you have someone to clean up after you."
"Huh?"
"You said she's as sharp as a knife," the astronomer offered with a tiny smile. "Need I say more?"
Determined to prove his brother wrong, Scott smirked and replied, "Nope. I think I'll go locate the party in question."
"You do that then. Thunderbird Five out."
Scott realized as soon as he stepped back into the lounge that it had been a bad idea to leave. By the looks on the faces of his father and Penelope, he had obviously missed hearing something very crucial, and he doubted that he would be privy to the news until later on when the woman finally left. Several sheets of paper rested on a table between them, along with what appeared to be a pair of martini glasses.
"I can't understand why he ran off," the older man was busy saying, shaking his head in dismay. "He's not normally like that, especially around women."
Scott bristled at the comment, which he could hear plainly from where he stood at the top of the stairwell. What the hell did his father mean by that?
"Oh, I assure you Jeff, I take no offence to his behaviour. He's been like that ever since we met."
"In London, you mean."
"No, the more that I think about it, the more I seem to recall him displaying similar behaviour at my father's funeral."
"That's not a surprise to hear."
Tired of listening to the two talk about him behind his back, Scott traversed the stairs in a very deliberate manner and placed himself directly behind the table with the paperwork. His father and Penelope both stopped talking and glanced up at him.
"Scott! I was wondering where you'd run off to."
Penelope gave him a suave smile and nodded her head slightly in greeting. "It is fabulous to see you again, Scott."
Scott doubted that his father could see it, but he saw clearly the teasing gleam that flashed across her eyes. Trying to keep his face from reddening, he flashed the woman his own smile and pulled over a chair so he could join the conversation. "Likewise. I hope Intelligence didn't keep you too busy after that little escapade."
"A bit," the blonde admitted, all the while smiling that radiant smile that was still threatening to send Scott's heart jumping. "Not too terribly much, mind you, but enough to keep me from becoming too bored. Parker is being a dear right now and is taking care it for me in the plane so that I can visit uninterrupted."
Before Scott could say anything, his father laughed and slapped his son affectionately on the knee.
"Good to hear, Penny. This Parker sounds like a good man."
"Indeed, Jeff. A fabulous man. Very dependable."
Penny? How well did his father know the woman, wondered Scott in confusion. Apparently they had kept in better touch then the older man had hinted at.
"How'd you find him?"
"Breaking into my home, if you would believe it. Poor Parker, reduced to a thief, and with his skills too!"
"Amazing. But I suppose that everyone changes."
"Of course. And about that-"
"Right. I'd forgot."
"Would you like to tell him, Jeff?"
"If you want. Scott, how you feel about Penelope joining our team?"
The words went into Scott's head, banged around for a few seconds, then collided suddenly with his cerebral cortex. "What?"
"Not as a pilot," the older man continued, completely oblivious to his son's shock. "More as an agent. Someone who could be on call for us in some other part of the world, who could do research or even scout out situations for us. I'd been thinking about this for a while, but I hadn't come across anyone to hire until now. Penelope is very willing to help us up, and I think we should take her up on her offer."
"Quite right," the woman added, "I owe you and Lucille more than I could ever hope to repay."
"Scott?"
Two very opposing thoughts had a hold of Scott Tracy's mind, both of which tried to pull him in one direction or the other.
Could they really trust Penelope? – that was the forerunner. Looking to his father, Scott could see in the older man an underlying trust in the woman that would not have been easily won. His father was not fooled easily, so his confidence in Penelope had to be genuine.
The other thought came from a deeper part of him - a part that insisted Penelope should become a member of the organization. This would mean that he could continue to see her, could continue to . . .
Do what? He still didn't know.
"I . . ." Knowing that his father would be expecting an answer, Scott immediately nodded and finished, "I think that's a great idea."
"Fabulous!" Penelope put in, giving Scott a thankful look. "It would mean a great deal to me to be able to aid your organization. I owe Lucille that much at least."
"Then it's settled." Scott's father gave the woman a pleased smile and offered her his hand to shake. "Welcome to International Rescue. It's a pleasure to have you as part of the team."
"Likewise." All the while, Penelope looked not at the older Tracy, but at Scott, her eyes twinkling in a most peculiar fashion. "Now, do I have the privilege of meeting the rest of your wonderful family? It's been so long, I hardly remember them at all."
Scott opened his mouth to respond, only to be once again cut short by his father.
"I'd love to, Penny, but the younger boys unfortunately are still at school for a couple more weeks. Virgil is home, but he's off working on something and I doubt he'd want to be disturbed. If you'd like, though I can introduce you to John."
"That would be lovely."
She's part of the family now, Scott saw with a faint trace of satisfaction. For better or for worse, she'll be following us around for some time to come. And perhaps, just perhaps . . .
Shaking the thought from his mind, he followed his father and Penelope out of the room.
Whether he was doing it intentionally or not – Scott favoured the latter – John Tracy was doing an amiable job of irritating his older brother. Scott knew that it stemmed from the fact that John was by nature a likeable person if he ever immerged from his social shell, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy every time that Penelope smiled at one of the astronomer's comments.
"It sounds simply fabulous up there," the woman was busy saying, at which John nodded and laughed.
"Absolutely. I wouldn't trade this for anything else."
"We have to practically drag him down," Jeff Tracy added from where he stood beside Penelope. The woman was seated at his desk in the study, while her eyes were directed toward the Thunderbird Five uplink on the computer screen. "Sometimes I worry that he's going to mutate into a space rock."
John snorted and waved an unconcerned hand. "I don't think I have . . ."
A small laugh, a giggle really, escaped Penelope's mouth. "Certainly not, John. I've never known space rocks to be so handsome."
She's doing it again, Scott thought in amazement, wondering why he had been so pleased at her joining the team, and wishing that some part of him had not decided to become so attached to her. Even if it wasn't intentional on her part, she was still managing to rub things in his face. Well, he was going to put things right andsnip heraccidental attempt to irritate him in the bud."Miss Creighton-Ward-"
"Please Scott, call me Penny."
"Penny, then. You should know that you can't expect my brother to have any interest in women, especially ones that like to flirt. I mean, he's up there all the time, so how is he supposed to have any feelings like that?" Scott felt as twinge of guilt as John's face fell. There was some truth behind his statement – Scott was sure that John honestly had no interest in settling down with anyone - but not to the degree that he had suggested.
"Thanks, Scott." The astronomer's face coloured a nice shade of pink, and his eyes looked somewhere off screen so that he didn't have to meet either Penelope or Scott's gaze. "I can manage myself, you know."
"Scott!" Jeff scolded, using a tone that Scott could remember having heard one too many times in his childhood. "Young man, I don't like your attitude one bit. Apologise to your brother and Lady Penelope."
"It's okay, Dad," John added, a bit too calmly for Scott's guilty conscience to like. "Scott's just bringing up a valid point. In fact, we were talking about it earlier, weren't we?"
"I also understand," Penelope put in, her soothing tone calming down the conversation immediately. "I can see that a person like you would be more deserving of a woman of your mother's quality. They are so hard to find; it's understandable that you've stopped looking. Chronic flirts like me are perhaps better suited for a less charming breed of men."
The words were tonic – Scott could see it plainly in the way that John slowly looked back at the screen, a tiny smile returning to his face. "Thank you."
"You're most welcome, John." Penelope turned her attention towards Jeff, seemingly ignoring all of Scott's attempts to catch her eye one last time. "Jeff, I believe that it is time for me to return to London. Intelligence will be after me if I don't arrive home on time, and I have no intention of submitting another report of that manner. I realise that I have not been here long, but I don't have time to dally."
"I understand."
"You will be coming back, right?" Scott mentally beat himself as soon as the words left his mouth.
Penelope turned towards him and gave him a long and appraising stare. Finally, she nodded, and – with the slightest hint of satisfaction – replied, "Of course, Scott. I look forward to meeting the rest of your brothers. If John is any indication, the rest of them should be very charming indeed."
What about me, screamed the part of Scott's mind that was generally subdued and quiet. Don't you care about me? Another part yet took the time to yell that he was being ridiculous, that it was all just a game, after all, and by looking into it too far he was making a fool of himself and hurting his brother. For Penelope hadn't meant anything by her comment to John. In fact, she hadn't directed anything at all in his direction to suggest that.
"You're welcome back anytime, Penny. In fact, the rest of the boys will be coming home soon for the summer. Feel free to stop in sometime if you want to meet them. I can even have Brains have a look at your plane while you're over and perhaps make some modifications to it to make the trip less lengthy."
"Thank you, Jeff. That would be fabulous."
Scott Tracy made no move to follow the pair as they left the room. Instead, he was left standing with his thoughts – and the irritating and quiet chortles of his brother – and trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. He had been obvious enough, he thought, with his conversation. But why she hadn't taken hold and had ignored him in favour of speaking - flirting, he insisted silently - with his brother, he had no idea.
He was being serious for once, and she seemed to have no intention of even listening to him!
"Game set and match."
Flipping around so that he faced the computer, Scott scowled at his brother and replied, "She obviously liked you enough."
Looking slightly insulted that Scott was jealous, John raised his hands in defence and responded, "Listen, I had not planned in any way shape or form to steal the attention away from you. She did it all on her own. You were right - she's smart. Very smart."
"Great."
"Face it. She's playing with you, Scott."
Of course she was, Scott thought glumly. She had been playing with him since they first met. Why on Earth did he keep thinking that that was ever going to change?
"I am such an idiot," he finally decided, causing his brother to launch into another wave of laughter.
"Y'know, after your little jab at me earlier, I could almost call us even if you hold to that. I would like to remind you that blood between brothers only applies when I'm not there to take a swing at you and draw it."
"John, there's no way that you could kick my ass."
"Want to try? I can give you a rain-check for when I get home next. I can't believe that you said that to her!"
Scott opened his mouth to respond but found the words were stifled back by a large component of shock. He could count on his fingers the number of times that his younger brother at been anything less than amiable. Something was obviously bothering him.
"John, is something wrong?"
The other man's face turned a light shade of red, and he shook his head. "Other than you? No, not really."
The sound of an airplane engine stopped the argument cold.
"What the hell is that?" Running to the window, Scott looked out just in time to see Penelope's plane lift gracefully from the ground and into the sky.
"The plane?" John called from the computer.
"The plane," Scott moaned, banging his head hard on the glass window. For all of the times that he was first on an accident scene, he had missed the one opportunity that he truly had wanted to take advantage of. By poking fun at his brother earlier - and having to clean up his mess after the fact - he had tossed up the last chance he had to set things right with Penelope. "Too late."
He had blown it. Those words echoed round and round in Scott's head until he seemed to be surrounded by a jeering and angry mob. He had let Penelope leave without ever having . . . ever having what? Flattered her? Kissed her and taken her to bed?
Won her over, perhaps, he thought in a dejected manner. Beaten her at her own game. But once again, she had conquered him, not the other way around, and he was left biting his tongue, wondering about what could have happened or what should have happened.
"Time to go back to my groupies," he sulked, leaning back against the hard plastic back of one of the pool chairs. The sun was irritatingly bright, and Scott wished that he could simply flip a switch and turn it off until he felt better. "I so look forward to the next public mauling after a rescue."
He should never have become involved in the first place, he thought. He knew better than to become attached to a woman emotionally, and he had always known the dangers of dealing with a woman who could actually fight back. Well, it was done and over with, and Scott did not intend to make the same mistake again. It was time to return his life to the way it used to be, before Penelope Creighton-Ward had sauntered in with her cute pink dress and taken a hold of his attention.
For that's what she had truly done, he knew then. He didn't like to admit it, but it was the hard truth.
"Scott."
Startled by his father's voice, Scott had to grab both sides of the chair to stop himself from falling over. "What?"
Ignoring the less than respectful greeting, Jeff wordlessly handed a folded sheet of paper to his son. He turned to leave, then added, "She gave it to me before she left." With that, he returned to the house and closed the door quietly behind him.
Scott looked down at the letter in hands for a long moment, turning it over and over, almost expecting something to jump out at him. When nothing did, and he was sure that there was nothing more to the letter then pink ink and paper, he unfolded it and began to read.
Dear Scott,
I do believe that I forgot to say good-bye to you, of all people. How silly of me! I suppose that I should make up for it in some way. If you would be so kind, I will be on vacation from work the week after the next and would love it if you could stop by my home and have tea. If your father deems that unsuitable, then I shall see you over the summer when I stop by at your home.
Sincerely yours,
Penny
It took several long minutes for the entire contents of the letter to truly sink in. As realization dawned upon Scott Tracy, a feeling of shear and utter bliss flooded through his body. She was inviting him to her home. For tea.
It was close enough to a date that he didn't really care what language she used. She was interested in him after all . . .
She was doing it to him again – and Scott Tracy honestly didn't give a damn. What was life, after all, without a little intrigue? A person couldn't live their entire life without having a little bit of excitement.
A huge grin blossoming onto his face, Scott ran towards the house with the intent of flaunting the letter in the face of a certain astronomer, bad mood or not. Perhaps life, in all of its mystique and suspense, wasn't so cruel to him after all.
A/N: Things are certainly interesting at the Tracy household right now. Scott losing his touch, John grumpy and aggravated . . . what's going on? Women, of course, the source of trouble for most men. ;) But it will pass soon enough. A huge thank-you is once again due to be given to Ariel D, who, through her wonderful comments, reminded me that I wrote the chapter when I was in a snarky mood. Hopefully Penny and Scott don't come across quite as vicious now. ;)
Thank you to everyone who is reading (Zeil, hope you're having fun sailing :) ) and reviewing!
Ariel D - Thank you. ;D
Assena - Yep, Scott is definitely not being the realm of Virgil and Gordon's subtle teasing. ;)
mcj - It's funny how this feels almost like the end of John's story, yet this story itself is only about half complete. Thank you so much; your words mean a lot to me. :)
Antilles - I'm not really sure what you're asking. I know that Scott comes across as arrogant in the movie, but it is my opinion that characters have depth that allows them to have more than one dominant trait or emotion. For one thing, Scott was pretty pumped during and after the movie rescue. He needs a reason to be bossy, after all. ;) That said, I think highlighting that part of his personality too much would overshadow all other facets of him.
Math Girl - Two massive egos is, to quote, 'quite right'. ;) Also, I am glad that John came across as tough in his own way. Most people never experience what he has gone through because they're not aware enough and conscious enough to understand their own thoughts as much as he does. :) Thanks so much for your kind words.
andrewjameswilliams - Thanks! It's amazing how children can have healing powers of their own.
Marblez - Thanks! lol And you know, I'm having trouble trying to write a three-thousand word short story for my class. Go figure.
Princess Tyler Briefs - Wow, I never thought my story would be able to do that. :) (sighs) I promise, I'll finish your beta read soon! My brain is reduced to mush right now, though, and I want to do it when I'm thinking clearly.
Barb from Utah - I really like imperfections in characters. :) It makes them so much more enjoyable to write.
Spense - I think that if poor John weren't quite so self-aware he wouldn't have so many problems. ;D But he has things all figured out now. Lol Thanks for reviewing! It's great to see a new reader.
Tikatu - It's wonderful to hear from you. :) I'm really flattered that tv-verse writers (brilliant ones, at that) do take the time out to read movie-verse fics. I hope that I can keep the quality level up for the rest of the story.
Be on the look out for next chapter, titled "Minor Alterations", which features hydrogen peroxide, uniform designs, grilled cheese sandwiches, forest fires, and one disgruntled space monitor. Until then, FAB all!