I don't own the Thunderbirds or their characters, just the ones I made up.

"Hey Christa, got something for you."

Christa looked up from her chart to see her co-worker walking towards her carrying a large vase of pale pink tulips.

"What on earth?" Christa stared as Marla put the vase on the table. "Who could have sent me these?"

"Why don't you read the card and find out!" Marla laughed.

Christa stuck her tongue out at her friend and pulled out the card.

Christa,

Thanks for your help yesterday.

I'd like to repay you with dinner.

Maybe tonight?

John

"So? Who are they from?" Marla asked.

Christa smiled. "Remember that guy I told you about yesterday?" Marla nodded. "Him. He wants to take me to dinner."

"Nice!" Marla winked at her. "By the way, they were hand delivered."

Christa's head snapped up. "What? Why didn't you tell me?" She hurried out the door.

She spotted him talking to one of the other nurses. Wow! And I thought he looked good the other day! John was wearing jeans and a pale blue button down shirt. He looked up at her and smiled. Christa felt her heart pounding in her chest as he made his way over to her.

"Hi. Hope I'm not bothering you." John said.

"Not at all." She led him back into the nurse's lounge. "Thank-you for the tulips. They're beautiful."

"No problem." John smiled and Christa noticed just how blue his eyes were. "What?" He asked when he noticed her staring at him.

She blushed. "Nothing. How are you feeling?"

John shrugged. "Better. You were right. I was stupid, thinking I could go jogging."

"Glad you survived the experience."

"Me too." He laughed.

They both grew quiet for a few minutes. "So, can I…take you to dinner?" John asked when the silence had gone on too long.

Christa smiled. "Sure. I'm off at three today. Say around six?"

"Sure. Any preferences?"

She shook her head. "Surprise me."

John grinned. "You're on. How about casual, nothing dressy?"

"That would be fine." She sighed. "I hate to say this, but I have to get back to work."

"That's OK. I've got to get back to my jogging." He grinned cheekily at her, his ice blue eyes twinkling.

She slapped him lightly on the arm. "Don't you dare!" They walked back out into the hallway and Christa led him to the elevator.

"I'll see you later." He stepped into the elevator.

"John wait!" John held the door open with his hand. "You don't know where I live!"

He winked. "Oh yes I do. See you at six." Winking, he let the door close.

Christa laughed to herself and walked back towards the lounge. Marla grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are?" She exclaimed.

"What are you talking about?" Christa asked, puzzled.

"That guy!"

"John?"

Marla rolled her eyes. "Yes John! Don't you know who he is?"

"Am I supposed to?"

Marla grabbed a magazine off the table and leafed through it. "Here. Look at this."

Christa's eyes scanned the article. "What am I looking at?"

Marla sighed. "Look at this." She pointed to a picture.

"Shown here is billionaire benefactor, Jeff Tracy with two of his sons, Scott and John. Mr. Tracy recently donated a million dollars to the St. Jude's Children Hospital." Christa looked up, eyes wide. "Oh God…I never asked his name." She glanced down at the picture again. "He seemed so…normal. He didn't act like a billionaire."

Marla laughed. "Got the looks too. You hooked a live one Christa." She waved as she left the room.

Christa ran her finger along John's picture. "John Tracy…hmmmm…."

John stood in front of Christa's apartment building and took a deep breath. Then wincing, he absently rubbed his side, and pressed the doorbell. "Hello?"

"Hi Christa. It's me." John replied.

"I'll be right down."

John turned and watched a family in the park across the street. A little girl was chasing after the butterflies, and her father was trying to keep up with her. He smiled to himself.

He heard the door open behind him and turned. Christa stood there smiling. She wore jeans and a deep purple sweater. "Hi there."

"Hi yourself. Ready?" John asked, offering her his arm.

They walked across the park, and made their way up Commonwealth Ave. "Where are we going?" Christa asked.

"How about the North End? You like Italian?"

She nodded. "But we're not walking all the way to the North End. We'll take the T." She steered him over to a stop.

John rolled his eyes, but allowed her to pull him. "Christa I'm fine."

"Yeah, and I'm a brain surgeon." She pulled two tokens out of her pocket and they boarded the train.

A short time later, they were seated at an outside table, eating breadsticks and sharing a bottle of red wine.

"What do you do for a living John?" Christa asked.

John turned red and took a sip of wine. "I'm a scientist."

"What kind of scientist?"

"Astrophysicist."

Her eyes widened. "Really? My mom is too. Have you been in space?"

"Yes." He answered before thinking. "I mean….I did some work on the ISS last year." He told her taking a large sip of wine. Stupid John, real stupid.

She smiled. "So you're an astronaut too."

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." He took another sip of wine. "What about you? Have you always wanted to be a nurse?"

She nodded. "I used to con all the kids in the neighborhood to let me operate on them."

John laughed. "I'll bet." The waiter brought their pizza and they were quiet for a few minutes as they ate.

"So, tell me about these four brothers of yours." Christa asked him.

John smiled. "Let's see, Scott's the oldest, then me, Virgil, Gordon, and Alan's the baby."

"Interesting names."

John blushed. "My dad was in the space program and named us all after astronauts." To his surprise, Christa burst out laughing. He glared at her. "What's so funny?"

"It's just…" She laughed again, and John sat back and waited until she got herself under control.

"Well?" John asked, pouring them both another glass of wine.

"My mom. She did the same thing." At John's puzzled expression, she pointed to herself. "Christa, as in McAuliffe, my sister Sally…"

John nodded. "Ride, gotcha."

"I have a brother too." This time it was Christa's turn to blush. "I'm almost afraid to tell you."

John had a sinking feeling he knew where she was going. "Not…"

She nodded. "Jeff. As in Tracy." She looked up at him. "Why didn't you tell me who you were?"

John looked down uncomfortably. "I don't know…"

She reached across the table and took his hand. "It's OK. I understand, believe me." He looked up at her tone. "My last name is Lynch. Like the big brokerage firm."

A smile crept along John's face. "You manage our stocks."

"Not me, I'm a nurse remember?" They both chuckled.

After desert, John hailed a cab. "Want to get off at the Common and walk for a bit?" He asked.

She eyed him critically. "Are you feeling up to it?"

"Yes." He sighed. "Christa look, one of the reasons I left home was because everyone was hovering over me. OK, so going for a run yesterday wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done, but I had my reasons. And I learned my lesson and won't do it again. So, please trust me when I say I'm fine." His voice came out sharper than he intended and he sighed. "I'm sorry. I've been under alot of stress lately."

Christa smiled and took his had. "I'll forgive you if you forgive me for the mother-henning."

John smiled back. "Deal. Let's go for a walk."

Hand in hand they strolled through the park, stopping once for John to buy them a pretzel off a street vendor. They continued down the Commonwealth Avenue Mall, talking and laughing. Finally they ended back up in front of Christa's door. "Can I take you to a movie or something later this week?" John asked her.

"I'd like that." She smiled up at him, her indigo eyes twinkling. "I had a good time tonight."

"I did too." He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the cheek. "I'll call you later."

"Good night John."

"Night Christa." He waited until she was inside, then headed for home. He decided to walk, even though it was much cooler out than he was used to. He tended to keep Thunderbird 5's temperature fairly high so his occasional trips back home to the island wouldn't be too uncomfortable.

By the time he reached Mass Ave., his chest was bothering him enough to call a cab home. Once inside, he sat down on the couch and flipped on the news. There was nothing remotely interesting on, so he put on some music and pulled out a book instead. A short time later, he got up and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Eyeing the bottle, he made a mental note to go to the store tomorrow, then he settled back down to read.

John awoke at dawn the next morning. He stretched carefully, and glanced around the room. The house had six bedrooms, plus a loft. When Scott had turned twelve, he announced that he and John weren't sharing a room with the babies anymore, meaning Virgil and Gordon, and he wanted their own room. Jeff complied by renovating the attic turning the entire room into a large loft, complete with skylights and a window seat. Scott and John eagerly moved in, allowing their younger brothers up on special occasions. Like when Dad said so. John chuckled to himself.

He got up and showered, then ate a breakfast of eggs, toast and his customary mug of hot chocolate. After washing the dishes, he looked around the kitchen. Now what? I'm done with the whole 'take it easy' routine. And I don't feel like doing anything touristy. The Sox are out of town too. He paused thoughtfully for a few minutes. I've got it! Time to spend some of that money I've been hoarding. Grabbing his jacket, he hurried out the door.

The sleek black Jeep Cherokee pulled up in front of the brownstone. The door opened and John stepped out. He was dressed in black pants, a tight deep burgundy t-shirt, a black leather jacket and dark sunglasses. His hair had been trimmed, leaving it longer in the back and short on the side. He went into the house, pausing in front of the hall mirror. I look like a bad-ass. Wonder what the others would say?

As if the thought summoned them, the phone rang. John went to answer it. His brother Scott appeared on the monitor. "Hi John."

John was momentarily stunned by his older brother's appearance. Scott was pale with dark circles under his eyes. He forced himself to smile. "What's up Scotty?"

Scott raised an eyebrow at John. "That's a new look for you."

John sat down and shrugged. "I needed a change. Bought a car too. Jeep."

Scott's eyes lit up. "What color? Please don't say yellow."

John laughed. "Black. Fully loaded."

Scott sighed. "Nice. Standard I hope."

"Are you kidding me? Drive a standard in the city?"

"Wuss."

John laughed again. "So Scott, what do you need?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to see how you were."

John frowned. His brother was hiding something. "Scott, what?"

"Gordon."

John felt a chill go through him. "What happened?"

"He was swimming yesterday and got a cramp. He wasn't breathing when Alan and Virgil got him out of the water."

"And now?" John asked hoarsely. Though he wasn't happy with his youngest brother, he certainly didn't wish him any harm.

"He's fine. Virgil took care of him." John breathed a sigh of relief. "I wanted you to know. I didn't want you to think we weren't telling you." Scott said quietly

"Thanks Scott." John sighed. "I went on a date last night." He said, trying to change the subject.

Scott looked up in surprise. "Really? Who is she? Is she hot?"

John laughed. "I think she is. Her name's Christa, and get this, she, her sister and brother are named after astronauts. Sally and Jeff."

"Jeff? As in Dad-Jeff?" Scott laughed. "That's priceless. Wait until you tell Dad."

John's smile faded. "Scott, what's wrong? You look like hell."

"It's nothing."

"Don't lie to me."

Scott sighed and ran his good hand through his hair. "It hurts John. Virgil says he doesn't think anything is wrong, but he wants me to go to the mainland and have it looked at."

"Go back to Sydney."

"Maybe." He sighed again. "I miss you John. We all do. Dad's wandering around lost, Virgil never leaves his piano, and then there's Alan and Gord. Hell, they're driving us all nuts alternately screaming at or ignoring each other." He looked up into John's eyes. "I can't play the peacemaker like you can John. We need you back."

John shook his head. "I can't Scott. Not yet. Maybe not ever." He said softly.

"Please don't say that John. We lost Mom, we can't lose you too."

John clenched his eyes shut. "Scott…"

Scott sighed. "Just think about it. OK?"

"OK."

"So, tell me more about this Christa."

"What's to tell? She's cute and she likes Italian food. How can I go wrong?" John grinned.

"She the nurse?"

John narrowed his gaze. "How do you know that?"

Scott mentally cursed himself. "John, I—"

"You've been checking up on me?" John's voice was deadly calm. "How? Through my communicator or Steve?"

"John it's not like that!"

"What is it then Scott? You and Dad think I need a babysitter? That I'm not capable of taking care of myself?"

"Maybe if you weren't drinking yourself into an early grave we wouldn't have to check on you!" Scott retorted hotly.

John's eyes flashed dangerously. "Go to hell Scott. And tell the rest of the family to go with you." He cut the connection. It immediately started ringing again. John ignored it and paced the room angrily. He started to open the liquor cabinet when Scott's words came back to him. Scowling, he slammed the door shut and stood, his body quivering in anger. The hell with him. The hell with all of them.

He took off his communicator and stared at it for a moment. Then smiling ferally, he went into the kitchen and dropped it in the sink. He turned the water on, and watched as it moved towards the drain. Finally John flipped the switch to the garbage disposal and watched until the device had been ground down to nothing. Then turning off the disposal and without a backward glance, he marched out of the room.

Gordon heard Scott yelling through the closed door of the office. He thought he heard John's voice as well, but couldn't make out what was being said. Then the room went silent, and he peered into the office. Scott was slumped forward in his chair in front of the video phone, his head in his good hand.

"Scott?" There was no reply. Gordon moved closer. "Scott? You OK?"

Scott looked up, his grey eyes full of anguish. Gordon knelt down next to him. "Scott, what happened? Who where you talking to? Was it John?"

Scott nodded. "He…I…dammit Gordie!" He put his head in his hand again.

"Tell me what happened."

"We were talking, really talking and I had to go screw it up." Scott muttered.

"What did you say?"

Scott shook his head. "I can't. I promised Dad I wouldn't."

Gordon tilted Scott's head up so he could look his brother in the eye. "Don't you think there've been enough secrets in this family?"

Scott sighed. "He's still drinking. Steve went to see him the other day and he was drunk, and it wasn't even noon." Scott shook his head. "We never should have let him leave."

Gordon tried to keep his voice neutral, but he was seething inside. "We couldn't have stopped him Scott, you know that."

"Dammit we didn't even try!"

"Scott, I care about him too, but we can't help him if he won't let us." Scott started to shake his head. ""No Scotty, listen to me. He doesn't care about anything right now. Not us, not IR, not himself. There's nothing we can do except wait and hope he comes around."

Scott stared at his brother with haunted eyes. "What if he doesn't Gord? What if we can't get him back?"

Gordon shook his head. "I don't know. Just be there to pick up the pieces I guess."

Scott shook his head. "This is all my fault…"

"How is this your fault? John's the one with the problem."

"You don't get it Gordon, it's my fault he's drinking so much."

Gordon snorted. "You didn't hold a gun to his head Scott. He's a big boy, he knows what he's doing."

"I brought alcohol up to TB 5." Scott said quietly.

Gordon's eyes opened wide. "You what? When?"

"When I stayed behind." Scott sighed. "I thought…I brought the booze, hoping maybe I could get him to relax and open up. I didn't think I'd change him into an alcoholic."

"Scott listen to me. You didn't do this to John. John did this to John. OK, you brought a bottle up with you, so what? Did you hold him down and pour it down his throat?" Scott shook his head. "So what's the problem? Scott, don't let him do this to you." Gordon smiled encouragingly at his eldest brother. "Go get some rest bro. You look like hell."

Scott smiled tiredly. "Yeah, you're right." He got up carefully and made his way towards the door. "Thanks Gord."

"Anytime Scott, anytime." Gordon waited until he was sure Scott was out of hearing and turned to the phone. "Now Johnny, let's you and me have us a little chat."

John looked up when the phone rang again. "You want to finish this Scott, let's finish it." He punched the answer button. "I have nothing to say to you Scott."

"It's not Scott."

Startled, John looked into the face of his second youngest brother. "Gordon."

"You're acting like a real prick, you know that Johnny."

John scowled. "Don't start with me Gordon."

Gordon shook his head. "I'm not starting anything. I'm finishing." He leaned close to the screen, his eyes boring into John's. "I don't know what you said to Scott, he won't tell me, but by God if you don't knock off this 'Holier than thou' attitude, I'm going to march myself to Boston and pound the snot out of you."

"I'd like to see you try." John retorted angrily.

"You hurt him." Gordon continued. "You hurt all of us, and now you're throwing some kind of guilt trip to make yourself feel better. Well let me tell you something brother-mine, it's not gonna work with me." Gordon's tone was as cold as ice.

"Go to hell Gordon." Gordon's words stung more than John wanted to admit.

"You wish Johnny."

"Why don't you all just leave me alone!"

"Because brother dear, contrary to popular belief, we actually care about you. It's killing Scott not having you here, and Dad…well, between you and Lady P., Dad's barely hanging on himself."

"Don't pin that on me. I had nothing to do with whatever happened to him and Penny." John protested.

"I never said you did. This is exactly what I'm saying John. The universe doesn't revolve around you. I suggest you get your head out of your ass and figure that out for yourself." Without another word, Gordon cut the connection, leaving John standing stunned.

John stared at the empty screen for a few moments, then scowling to himself, marched over to the liquor cabinet and poured a drink. Gordon doesn't know what he's talking about. And I'm not drinking myself to death. So I have one once in a while, it's not like I'm doing drugs or anything.

He poured himself another. Care about me-HA! They probably haven't even noticed I'm gone.

Another drink. I'm happy here, I can take care of myself. Make decisions about my own life.

He swallowed the last of the bottle. I don't need them.

I don't need anyone.