What is that? (Surprise, awe)

Jeff laughed. His second eldest asked that question far more than Scott ever did. His eldest seemed to be preoccupied with jumping and flying, and the only question Scott ever asked at the moment was 'can I jump off that, Daddy?' He was running Lucy and himself off their feet trying to Scott-proof the new farmhouse.

John, though, John was far quieter and more likely to be found reading a book, even at four years old. Sometimes he followed Scott and played flying or jumping, but his attention was limited when participating in physical activity and he often abandoned the game part-way through and settled down to read. This never seemed to bother his older brother, and he would often stop and sit with John for a short while. Where John was quiet and could sit for hours, Scott was all activity and rarely sat still for long.

Tonight was special.

Jeff had finished installing the telescope on the roof and had built a viewing platform, and tonight was the grand opening. He knew Scott would be interested, but John loved talking and reading about the stars and he hoped this would be as enthralling as it had been for him at the same age.

He was not disappointed. Scott had enjoyed the night as he had expected, but John had been overawed. He had kept pointing at different stars and planets and asking, 'what is that?' His second-born definitely had his head in the stars. Jeff wondered idly if Virgil would take after Lucy. He wondered who the next baby would take after.

What is that? (Horror, disgust)

Gordon had been a shock to all of them, but probably to John the most. The quiet child had had his life turned upside down by the noisy baby, and toddling Gordon was possibly worse. But a four-year-old Gordon could try the patience of a saint. And he had formed an unlikely attachment to John.

Poor John didn't get a moment's peace, except when his youngest brother was in the pool. Yet his parents had been surprised that John had taken it all in his stride. He was currently helping Gordon with his reading, but Gordon – hyperactive almost as much as Scott had been – had gone out to play.

Lucy wasn't really worried. The farmhouse had huge grounds for the children to run around in, and Gordon and Scott took full advantage of the space. It was muddy, however, and she watched fondly as Gordon fell over in the mud. It wouldn't be a problem for this one, as Gordon loved water and would enjoy his bath later. John, however, would not appreciate getting dirty, he was a fastidious child.

She was drawn from her musing by a yell. Lucy made her way outside as quickly as possible, only to see Gordon standing in front of a seated John. John had a book open, and on top…on top of the book was a pile of what looked like mud. The book would definitely be ruined. Both her children looked like they were going to cry. She knelt down beside John and place a hand on his arm. He looked like he was in shock. With tear-filled eyes he looked up at his younger brother.

'What is that?' he cried, a hint of horror in his voice. Gordon, his own tears now falling, replied, 'it's a mud pie. I made it for you, Johnny.'

Lucy stifled a laugh. Sometimes her current youngest was so thoughtful, but he was also didn't think anything through. The tears soon dried up as John realised his brother was trying to be nice.

'Thank you, Gords, that was very, um nice of you.' And he was rewarded by one of Gordons sunniest smiles and a hug.

What is that? (Surprise, interest, a little jealousy)

John stood on the porch, waiting for Scott to get home. The two oldest brothers hadn't seen each other in over six months, respective university studies and Scott spending spare time on extra credits for his entry for the Officer's School of the USAF.

John had arrived home only half an hour ago, the house was thankfully quiet, as their dad, knowing they were due back, had taken Alan and Gordon out for the day, and Virgil was out with friends.

The roar of a throaty engine warned John that his brother was approaching, but what he was driving to make that noise he couldn't tell. Scott had driven an SUV as soon as he could drive, but that had been more about transporting younger brothers to school than a mode of transport he actually wanted.

Putting his coffee on the fence, he leaned over, watching the dust from the driveway cloud the air. And out of it came a motorbike? John was impressed, it wasn't the transport he thought his brother would have gone for. As Scott skidded to a halt in front of the house and kicked the stand down, John let out a low whistle.

'What is that?' he asked as Scott took off his helmet, walking the circuit around the bike. It was silver with blue. Scott laughed. 'It's a Harley Softail Fat Boy.' John cocked an eyebrow at the name, and Scott laughed harder, pulling John into a tight hug. 'Where's your ride, Johnny-boy?'

'Don't call me Johnny, Scotty,' John shot back, pulling his brother by the arm to the barn they used as a garage. 'My ride is here.' Opening the doors, he watched in delight as Scott's eyes widened.

'What is that? Is that what I think it is?' he breathed, rushing over to take a better look. He ran a hand carefully over the bonnet of an orange Ford Thunderbird convertible. Not a modern monstrosity, but a classic car that had obviously been pimped.

John was inordinately pleased that Scott loved the car. He had hoped he would, they had spent ages when they were learning to drive discussing what cars they would have, and Scott had always wanted a T-Bird.

They grinned at each other. This week was going to be fun!

What is that? (delight)

Jeff had called John and asked him to come home. Home was now an island in the Pacific where the family had relocated to while the three eldest had been away at university and working.

John had returned to Earth after his latest mission for NASA/WSA and was currently grounded for at least six months until he could return to space. He was increasingly becoming disillusioned with his job, however, as the bosses kept trying to ground him in the hope of getting him into the research division. He was fighting it every time he came back to earth, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

His father's request had come out of the blue, and he was intrigued. Virgil had come to fetch him using Tracy One, their dad's work plane, and they had enjoyed the time catching up while flying back. But Virgil was tight-lipped about what their dad wanted.

Two days. He had been on the island two days and his dad had not spoken to him about why he'd asked John to come home. John was relaxing by the pool when his brother came out to get him. Puzzled, John followed Virgil through the house and through what could only be called a secret passage.

They came to a large hanger. Inside were the carcasses of what looked like two rockets and possibly a plane? Nothing was even half-way built, but it was clear what they were going to be. John stood on a walkway about halfway up the cavern, mouth open.

'What is that? And that? And that?' Virgil laughed. 'Dad'll explain everything later, he's waiting for you in Brains' lab.' Ah yes, Brains. He had met the genius the last time he'd been home. They had talked for hours; someone John could talk actually complexities with. Virgil led him down and along until they came to a recessed door.

They entered to find their dad and Brains pouring over some schematics. And it was the schematic that made John's eyes pop out of his head. 'What is that! Is…is that what I think it is?'

His dad turned and grinned. 'John, welcome to your very own space station.'