Fortunately or unfortunately, it took the trip to the police station before their identities were discovered.

The police chief was dragged from her office. She was a short woman, probably in her fifties with eyes that had seen far too much. She looked Virgil and Gordon up and down, stared at their ID and set her shoulders.

"Don't expect special treatment here. The law is the law. Money does not let you escape it." She handed their ID back to the duty officer. "Process and book them just like the others. Maybe they'll learn something." She turned her back to them and disappeared into her office.

Virgil stared after her with an aching face. A glance at his brother found a Gordon explosion in the making.

"Gords."

Those russet brown eyes darted in his direction and Virgil shook his head just once.

The aquanaut's lips thinned to almost nonexistence, but his shoulders settled. He still turned to the officer, however. "At least can we please have some medical attention for my brother?"

"After processing."

And they were fingerprinted and genetically identified. The database churned out Gordon's military record and two brushes with the law as a teenager.

Dad had been so angry both times.

Kind of like what Scott was going to be shortly.

Virgil didn't have a police record. All his liaisons with the law had been as an International Rescue operative. The database was pedantic and churned out a list of all the incident files he had been a signatory on.

It was a long list.

At least some respect appeared in the officer's eyes at the math of how many people had been saved by the two men standing in front of him.

Regardless, they were searched. Gordon's pocket knife was confiscated and Virgil watched sadly as they packed away the brand new piano string he had bought on the way into town. What was worse was his favourite multitool, which lived in his left boot, went with it. Gordon frowned at the sight of it.

Holograms were taken and they were escorted to a cell, fortunately one that only contained the two of them. There, finally, Virgil was able to let his shoulders drop. He leant back against the cool brickwork and let out a breath.

"Sorry, Virg."

A slow blink. "Had to be done." A sigh and he reached for his collar. "Thunderbird Two to Tracy Island."

"Tracy Island, how goes those steaks, Virg?"

He pressed his lips together and his cheek complained. "Could be better."

Scott picked up his tone of voice immediately. "What's wrong?"

He really didn't want to ruin his brother's mood. Another sigh. "Got into a fight. Been arrested."

There was total silence at the other end of the line. "You've been arrested?"

"Yes, and Virgil was punched in the face!"

That face glared at his little brother. "I'm fine, Scott, but we need bail."

More silence.

Shit.

"I'll be there in fifteen." The line cut dead.

Virgil slumped against the wall.

"Fifteen? He's not using One is he?"

A sigh. "Yes, he is."

"Virgil, report." John's voice was sharp and Gordon rolled his eyes.

Virgil held up a hand, stopping Gordon from adding to the mess. "We're in jail, John, as you have no doubt scanned thoroughly. Tell Eos to be subtle this time."

"Excuse me, Virgil, it wasn't my fault last time." Her voice was even sharper than John's and it rattled his headache.

"One word, Eos…popcorn."

"That wasn't my fault."

"She was just trying to help, Virgil." Okay, so he had stepped on his brother's 'daddy toes'.

He touched a finger gingerly to his bruised cheek. "Whatever. Just do what you can to stem the tide of paparazzi."

A sigh. "FAB." Pause. "You still haven't given me your report."

"Virg has a shiner in the making. Needs an x-ray of his cheek bone. That asshole hit him hard."

Virgil glared at Gordon and paid for it when it pulled at his injured face.

"Grandma has been notified."

Shit. Could this day get any worse? He had only wanted to relax for a couple hours.

"Scott's en route." Was he imagining a hint of apology in his space brother's tone? There was certainly enough concern.

"I'm fine, John. Just need to get out of here."

"Help is on the way."

His only answer was a grunt.

-o-o-o-

Scott was punctual as usual. There was no missing the roar of One's engines as she caused a traffic hazard outside the building.

Virgil, who had been nagged to lie down by a persistent aquanaut, pushed himself upright at the sound.

Gordon was rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Now we get to see some action."

Virgil rolled his eyes and regretted it. Another poke and prod revealed some nasty swelling. He must look a sight.

Scott was going to be unbearable.

It was another five minutes after the cooling of rocket engines out in the street before their cell door was flung open.

The situation was worse than expected.

Virgil stared, still sitting down on the bed, as his grandmother hurried into the room.

Oh, shit.

He had the briefest glance of a concerned Scott before their grandmother was in front of him.

"Virgil, oh honey." Her fingers took his chin as she studied his injury.

"I'm okay, Grandma."

"We'll see." And with the flick of a purple wrist, out came a medical scanner, its yellow light flickering over his face. He flinched away. "Hold still, honey. Just a moment, I promise."

He felt like a five-year-old.

"Gordon, report." Scott's voice was sharp and so military, Virgil could hear Gordon's spine crack into attention. What followed was a concise and accurate report of the fight. Virgil was surprised at how much his little brother had absorbed amongst the bedlam.

"Your cheek bone is not broken, but you've got a doozy of a contusion there, honey. Lots of bed rest and chicken soup for you."

Great. Just great.

He hoped the soup was from a can.

Another voice echoed down the corridor. A firm and sharp stream of legal terms that definitely did not sound good for anyone who wasn't a Tracy.

"You brought Jack?"

Scott's attention switched to Virgil. He shrugged. "He's our lawyer. You're in jail. Seemed pertinent."

"In fifteen minutes?"

"He got a ride in Thunderbird One."

Virgil snorted. "Was that a reward or a punishment?"

"He seemed to enjoy it."

Jack Dunning was their family lawyer and considering their occupation, he earned every cent the Tracys threw at him. Short, dumpy and balding, the man was raking the police chief over the coals as they arrived at the door of the cell.

One glance at Virgil and Jack turned back to the chief and ripped her an extra one about his medical condition.

"We called the medical attendant." Her words were defensive and much less the sure person they had met before.

"So, you're telling me, International Rescue could respond faster from halfway around the world than you could find a local doctor? Considering the amount of swelling, Mr Tracy could quite easily have a concussion, broken cheek bone, possibly internal bleeding. Why was he not seen to?"

"We were in the process of-"

Jack ignored her and prodded his tablet.

"What about the other participants? Your report mentions that there was some loss of consciousness. Have these men been attended to?"

"The severity of their injuries called for it, yes. Procedure-"

"Then why was Mr Tracy neglected?"

"He was not. The medical attendant was on his way."

"So, International Rescue can respond faster." He poked his tablet some more.

"Look, I don't know how you rich types expect to be treated, but in this police station everyone is treated fairly and equally."

"You better hope so." Jack's tone was final and spoke of an investigation in the future.

"Okay, boys, time to go home." Grandma really was the real commander on the team. It was proven by the fact Scott did not hesitate to obey.

"Gordon, you have Thunderbird Two. Virgil, you're riding with me."

"Really?" So, it came out whiney and petulant. Big deal.

"There is no way you are flying with that injury, young man." Grandma tugged him to his feet.

"I'm fine, Grandma. It's just a bruise. You said so yourself."

"Forget it, Virgil." Scott's tone was final and spoke of future discussions on the topic.

Okay, so Grandma being here was a temporary distraction from the words Scott had no doubt were loaded up and ready to be fired his way.

Time for a pre-emptive strike. "We were in the right, Scott."

"I'm aware of that, Virgil. Time to go." Scott ushered Gordon ahead, gently took Virgil's arm and led him from the holding cell.

A glance at those pursed lips made it very clear that as predicted, Scott was pissed.

An internal sigh.

This was not going to be fun.

-o-o-o-