"Kayo," said Alan, "did you remember to put your washing in the hamper?"

Having the last hours of life numbered did strange things to people.

"Says you?"

But some things stayed the same.

Alan sighed. "It's just I'm suddenly remembering all these things I was putting off because, y'know, I'll have plenty of time..."

They were too close to the sun. Thunderbird Three couldn't leave without melting, and didn't have the fuel to go anywhere if it did. Their rescuee had been killed in the explosion that Alan had hoped would shift the asteroid, in the hope that he and Kayo would make it - but it hadn't supplied enough kick to get them into a non-decaying orbit.

"At least Icarus got to fall down."

Icarus probably had some shreds of his body recovered.

Suffice it to say that the mood in Thunderbird Three's flight deck (currently the most insulated location available) was not good.

Kayo was back to watching the external thermometer. As she blinked, it went from maximum to minimum. "Thermometer just failed. What were the conditions for that again?"

Alan wasn't sure whether his sweating was placebo effect or ambient temperature. Or possibly fear. "Brains never told us - thought we'd never encounter it - and before you say anything smart, it wasn't on the technical readouts."

Kayo sighed. "Alan, I know I'm the second last person with any right to say this, but... we really should stop being snippy with each other."

Alan just raised an eyebrow.

"We're - no offense, but we are about to die."

"Yeah. I just - what's John going to think?" Alan's nascent combativeness fled in an instant. "He'll be killing himself over sending us out here. I wish I was entirely joking. And - and Scott, and Gordon, and Virgil, and Grandma, and Brains, and - they'll all - what about -"

Kayo, also feeling tears in her eyes, launched herself across the flight deck towards him.

For cathartic purposes, there's nothing quite as effective as a long, tight hug from someone you love. Kayo and Alan were now proving it still applied when you were about to be literally burned up by the sun, heedless of the increasingly stifling temperature around them.

"If only we could get Three out," Kayo murmured to herself. "It's less expendable than we are."

"If we had communications, we could do the next best thing. Send out the thermal data we have."

"We tried comms already. Completely fried."

"Receiving is completely fried." Alan pushed himself loose. "We only need to send. We can fix that." Pushed himself towards the electrical cabinet. "We can fix that!"

With second winds activated, they both scrambled to action, cobbling together half a new communications module to replace the one destroyed by the solar storm. It was a mentally exhausting task, with most of the spare parts they could find also destroyed, and the ambient temperature rising by the minute. Both stripped down to the underlayers of their uniforms midway through the process. They ended up having to salvage parts from their very new propulsion module to complete the task - "Well, it's not like we need that any more" - but at last they had their prize assembled and installed.

"Sending our sensor data now." Alan floated over the console. "Brains should be able to use this to create better heat-resistant components and coatings."

"They'll build another Thunderbird Three," Kayo smiled, "and it will survive extreme heat for longer, and be more radiation-resistant - you included that, right?"

"Of course I did. We wouldn't have this problem if the solar flare hadn't taken out our propulsion."

"Nice. Operations close to the sun will be significantly safer."

"Just not for us..." Alan looked rather down for a moment. "Hey Kayo. I can work a video in with this. Wanna send a farewell message?"

"That's incredibly thoughtful of you, Alan."

Alan flicked a switch, and transmission began. "Hey guys."

"Hey," Kayo added.

"We can't receive - this is transmit-only. We're, um, we're not coming back, in case you didn't know. Everything's fried or frying, and going outside will just fry us faster. So yeah, we're screwed. Don't bother sending a rescue mission."

"We'll be falling into the sun, so there won't even be anything to recover."

"Which sucks."

"So much. We're sending thermal and radiation damage data so you can build the next Thunderbird Three better and stronger, so hopefully this is the last time this happens."

"Haha, yeah, hopefully."

There was a meaningful silence for a few moments.

"So, anyway," said Kayo at length, "we, um, we're just saying -"

"John," Alan interrupted, "I know you're blaming yourself for sending me out here. Truth is, I blame me for not fixing the engines fast enough, and everyone else is blaming themselves somehow. So, everyone, don't do that, okay?" His eyes began to mist over again.

"Truth is," Kayo stepped in when it looked like Alan needed a moment to recover, "the world will still need International Rescue. So take some time off to grieve - but then keep going. Keep saving lives."

"Yeah. Don't make me haunt you." In the hysteria of high temperature and imminent immolation, they both found this hilarious. "Because you know I'll haunt you if you shut down."

"I don't think ghosts are anything substantial -"

"Hey!"

"- but I will specially try and make it otherwise if you need to be haunted."

Alan high-fived her.

"So, uh, Alan, anything else important you can think of to say?"

Alan looked at her really strangely before addressing the camera again. "I love you guys. And I know Kayo does too, even if she won't -"

"Alan, you know I don't -"

"- don't you want to, just once?"

Kayo paused. "Yeah." Looked down the camera. "I - I love you all."

Alan hugged her.

"So," he said, "well, bye. Have fun saving the world without us."

"Yeah, that. And for the record," Kayo said, "I've always known Alan had a crush on me," and switched off the transmission just as Alan somehow started sweating more than he already was.

"Okay, it is getting really hot in here," Alan sighed.

"By your tone of voice, I assume you don't mean my incredibly sexy self."

"Wow, imminent death brings out your sense of humour. Yeah, no, I didn't. I meant, you don't want to be awake to melt, do you? There's some sedative in the medicine cabinet; we can be unconscious for the worst of it."

"Normally, Alan, I'd say you were being defeatist, but this time you're absolutely right. No sense in unnecessary pain."

A half-dose each of sedative later, "Kayo?"

"Yeah?"

"Could we cuddle?"

"Awwwww, Alan...!"

As ways to die went, they reflected drowsily, this was probably one of the better ones - doing what they loved, with those they loved, in a relatively painless way, that produced data for the future.

If only it wouldn't hurt the others so much.

A/N: Well. That was me trying to write feels. Sucked, didn't it.

Half of my brain: "We need to do something deep and meaningful here. Really get into the characters' heads. Make the audience feel sympathetic."
Other half of my brain: GET IN LOSER, WE'RE GOING SHIPPING