Still don't own them...sigh...
"Good morning!"
John opened his eyes to find Christa grinning at him. "Morning. What are you so happy about? You look like the cat who ate the canary."
She laughed and ran her fingers through his hair. "With this hair, you could be considered a canary. Do you color it?"
He frowned at her. "I most certainly do not." He rolled over so his back was to her. "Do I color it…" He grumbled.
She laughed and tickled him until he rolled back to her. She played with his hair again. "It's actually kind of sexy."
John snorted. "Sexy? My brother Gordon calls me Blondie, Golden Boy, or any other number of wonderful names he can think of."
"I like it." She kissed him softly, then deepened it. "I like it alot."
He grabbed her hands as they began to wander under the blanket. "Christa wait. About last night…"
"What about it? We're both adults, and obliviously done this before." She said, kissing his shoulder.
He pushed her back. "That's just it. Before last night, it's been a long time since I did this. A very long time."
"Like how long?"
He blushed. "Over a year."
She smiled. "Guess we'll just have to make up for lost time." She whispered as she pressed her mouth to his.
The alarm klaxon startled Virgil to the point where he dropped his brush. Bright green paint splattered across his bare feet. Cursing to himself, he hastily crushed out his cigarette on an old paint palette and not bothering to clean up, hurried out the door.
He was more annoyed to discover he was the last one to arrive at the Command-Control room. Gordon looked down at his brother's green stained feet, then back up to his hair and grinned. Virgil ignored him.
"What's up Dad?" Scott asked.
"Fire outside of Los Angles. Probably sparked from the fireworks yesterday." Jeff pulled up a screen. "You can see here where it's spread. It's now moving close to the residential areas. The local authorities have called for help."
"And are we responding? I thought we were shut down." Gordon stated, folding his arms across his chest.
"That's why I called you all here." Jeff met each of his son's gazes, along with Fermat, Brains, Tin-Tin and her parents. "Do we respond?"
"Hell yes!" Gordon shouted.
Virgil nodded in agreement.
"We have to go Dad. People could die." Alan said quietly.
Scott met his father's eyes for a brief second, then looked away.
Jeff frowned for a moment at his eldest, then shook his head. "All right then, here's the plan. Fermat, Tin-Tin, I want you to stay here with Brains and man Base. With Thunderbird 5 still down, it's going to take more than one person to monitor the equipment."
"FAB!" Both responded at the same time.
Jeff turned to his sons. "Virgil, you, Gordon and Alan get to Thunderbird 2. Make sure the Firefly is loaded and ready to go."
Alan's eyes lit up. "FAB Dad." The three of them disappeared behind their portraits.
"I'll keep an eye on things here Dad." There was no mistaking the frustration in Scott's voice.
"Scott, you and I will take Thunderbird 1 and survey the fire."
Scott looked up at his father. "What?"
Jeff smiled. "I'll need someone to keep an eye on Alan and man Mobile Control. Did you really think I was going to leave my Field Commander behind?"
Scott smiled. "Thanks Dad."
"Now get moving."
"FAB." Scott too disappeared behind his portrait.
Jeff walked over to his own and smiled back at the others. "Thunderbirds are go!"
John was standing in front of the mirror shaving when Christa called out from the shower. "We don't have to go if you're not feeling up to it."
"I said I'm fine."
"Are you sure? Because they'll understand."
John rolled his eyes and filled a cup with cold water. He quietly walked over to the shower, and tossed the water over the curtain. Christa yelped. "I said I was fine." John said as he went back to his shaving.
A few minutes later, he heard the shower shut off and Christa stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel. "Have a nice shower?" John asked innocently.
Without missing a beat, she took a towel off the rack and expertly flicked him in the behind. "Brat!"
"Right back at you." John flicked a towel of his own. She yelped again and ran into the bedroom, John at her heels.
Laughing, she threw a pillow at him, which he deflected easily. "I've got four brothers babe, you're going to have to try harder than that." He advanced slowly towards her and she backed away. Just before he could reach her, she ducked under his arm and bolted across the room. John flopped down on the bed, laughing and a moment later, she joined him.
"It's good to see you smile." Christa told him.
"Feels good too." John answered. His eyes narrowed. "Roll over."
"What? Hey!" She exclaimed as John shoved her face down on the bed.
"What's this?" He asked, running his fingers along her left shoulder blade.
She peered back and grinned. "Oh you mean my fairy."
"You have a tattoo?"
"Duh, you're looking at it. I thought you went to MIT?"
John shoved her head down into the pillow. "Why do you have a tattoo?"
She rolled over and shrugged. "I like them. They're very liberating. You should get one."
John rolled his eyes and got up. "Yeah, let some big sweaty biker guy named Killer permanently mark up my body. No thanks." He said as he pulled on his pants.
"Chicken."
His head snapped up and his blue eyes flashed. "What did you call me?"
Christa met his gaze without backing down. "I called you a chicken. Perhaps you should get your hearing checked."
John scowled and pulled his shirt over his head. "Are you going to lie there all day, or are you going to get dressed so we can leave?"
Christa got up and walked over to him. "Grumpy without your coffee, aren't you dear?" She said, patting his cheek.
John made a wry face. "Coffee is for barbarians. Hot chocolate."
"First thing in the morning?" Christa shivered with disgust. "Blech."
"Don't knock it till you've tried it babe." John frowned. "What are you going to wear? Let me go look down in Alan's room. I might be able to find you something until we get to your place."
An hour later they were on the road heading south. Though the thunderstorms of the night before were over, the sky was still overcast. They talked and laughed, arguing over the radio stations. John wanted classical, and Christa kept changing it to country. They finally agreed on a classic rock station and sat back to enjoy the ride.
A little after noon, they pulled up to Christa's parents house. Considering Christa's background, John was surprised at how modest the house was.
"What were you expecting?"
John turned to her. "What?"
Christa smiled. "I asked what you were expecting. A mansion?"
John frowned. "No."
She laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "Teasing hon. Relax, there's nothing to be nervous about."
"I'm not nervous." He said quickly. A little too quickly. "OK, maybe I am a little nervous." She raised an eyebrow. "Alot nervous."
"Why? We don't bite…much." She winked.
John sighed and rested his head on the steering wheel. "Remember what we discussed earlier? Well, that wasn't the only thing I haven't done in a long time."
She rubbed his neck affectionately. "You really should ask for a day off once in a while. What, your father keep you locked away somewhere?" She teased. John instantly tensed. "John? What is it?"
He sat up and tried to smile. "Come on, they're probably wondering what we're doing out here in the driveway."
Hand in hand they walked up to the door. Christa knocked once then opened it and stepped inside. "Mom? Dad? We're here!"
"Auntie Cwista! Auntie Cwista!" A tiny red headed whirlwind came down the hall and crashed into Christa.
"Whoa! Easy Susie!" Christa gathered the little girl up in her arms and hugged her tight.
"Gwampa said we can't go in the pool. It's going to wain." She pouted.
Christa laughed. "We'll just have to play inside."
Susie thought about that for a moment, then smiled. Her attention turned to John. "Who are you? You have pwetty hair."
John blushed and took her hand, kissing the back of it. "My name is John."
"I'm Susie. Fwetcher says I'm a bwat." She pouted again.
John laughed. "All big brothers say that. At least mine does anyway."
Her blue eyes opened wide. "You haf a big bwother?"
John nodded. "What's worse, I have three younger brothers too." He said seriously.
Her eyes grew wide. "Wow…That's alot of bwothers."
John and Christa burst out laughing. Christa put Susie down and she ran yelling down the hall, calling for her parents. Christa took John's hand again and led him down the hallway. They entered a large kitchen, which seemed full of people.
"Christa sweetie!" A tall man with a head full of steel grey hair enveloped Christa in his arms.
"Hi Daddy." She hugged him tightly and then turned to John. "Daddy I'd like you to meet John. John, my father Jack."
John held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you Mr. Lynch."
"Call me Jack. Come on in, can I get you something to drink?" Jack asked.
John shook his head. "No thank-you sir."
"Christa! We thought you'd never get here." A petite woman, barely taller than Christa, walked over and hugged Christa.
"We got a late start Mom." Christa said, winking at John.
John blushed and both women laughed. "Hello, I'm Meg."
"John Tracy ma'am."
Meg raised an eyebrow. "Any relation to Jeff Tracy, the astronaut?"
John nodded. "My father ma'am."
Meg smiled. "Well, well, isn't that something."
Christa rolled her eyes and took John's hand. "Mom, please. C'mon John you can meet the rest of this group." She led him over to a woman who looked strikingly like her, only with auburn hair and a taller, serious looking man. "John, my sister Sally and my brother-in-law Rick."
"Nice to meet you John." Sally smiled.
"Where's Jeff?" Christa asked, looking around.
Rick moaned and Sally rolled her eyes. "Three guesses."
Christa nodded in understanding. "The garage. I see. Think we'll stay here for a bit."
John raised an eyebrow. "He's practicing with the band?"
They all laughed. "That's using the term 'band' loosely." Rick said.
"Very loosely." Sally added.
Christa looked around again. "Where's Fletcher?"
"You'll never guess." Sally sighed.
Christa shook her head. "Not in the garage?"
Sally nodded. "Jeff let him play on the drums."
"We're doomed." Rick added morosely.
They all laughed again. Over the next few hours, John was able to let his guard down and actually relax for the first time in a long time. At one point, Christa's brother started a game of touch football and invited John to join them. He was halfway out the door, when a sharp look from Christa stopped him.
"What?" John asked.
"You're not playing football." She told him firmly.
John frowned. "Why not?"
"Two words. Plane crash."
John scowled. "Thanks for reminding me."
Christa's nephew walked into the room, a sad look on his face. "What's wrong honey?" Christa knelt down and asked him.
"My plane won't fly." He held out a roughly made paper airplane.
"Here, let me see that." John took the paper and smoothed it out, then began folding it again. "Try this." He said handing it back to the boy.
Fletcher threw the plane and it soared across the room. "Wow! Thanks Mr. Tracy!"
"John. My father is Mr. Tracy." John smiled as he watched Fletcher run after the plane.
Christa snuggled up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "You're a pushover, know that?"
John smiled and kissed the top of her head. "I like kids. I mean, with three younger brothers, I don't really have a choice."
Across the room, Meg Lynch nudged her husband. "Look at that." She said softly.
"What?" Jack asked.
"Your daughter. She's in love." Meg told him.
Jack followed her gaze. "How do you know?"
"Just look at her."
"They've only known each other for a few weeks." Jack shook his head. "You're imagining things."
"And we were the same way." She winked at her husband. "He loves her too. He just hasn't figured it out yet." She turned back to the sink.
Before Jack could reply, Jeff burst into the room. "The Thunderbirds are on TV!"
John started, almost dropping his glass of wine, but no one seemed to notice as they rushed into the living room. Christa paused in the doorway when she noticed John wasn't following. "John? You coming?"
John nodded. "Sure." He downed his wine in one swallow and pouring himself another, followed her into the other room.
"They're battling a fire outside of LA." Jeff told them.
"Thunderbirds!" Fletcher yelled, sending his plane soaring again.
John turned his attention to the screen. He couldn't see much behind the reporter, mostly smoke and a large green shape that he knew was Thunderbird 2. Virgil's probably got the Firefly unloaded. Scott can't fly, so he either stayed home or is working Mobile Control. I hope Dad left Alan at home.
"Turn it up! We can't hear." Meg told her son.
"…believed to be started by yesterday's fireworks. The fire spread quickly in this drought infested area, and is now creeping towards the residential areas. Local fire crews have been unable to control the blaze. International Rescue was called, and they were able to respond. As you all know, IR has been temporarily shut down since their help in apprehending the international terrorist known as the Hood in Malaysia last month."
"Guy's a madman. Wish England had capital punishment." Jack muttered. Meg swatted her husband's arm.
I agree, John thought to himself before turning his attention back to the set.
"What's that big green thing?" Sally asked pointing to the TV.
"Thunderbird 2." John replied automatically.
Christa shot him a puzzled look. "How do you know that?"
Shit… "I…um…I mean this isn't the first time they've been on TV." John said quickly.
"Shhhh!" Jeff hissed.
They all turned back to the set. "It looks like something is happening folks! The IR team seems agitated over something. There's two of them running into a burning building and…oh my God! The building! It down, it's down!"
Everyone stared at the television screen, even the children sensed now was not the time to talk. C'mon, where the hell are you. John felt his heart hammering against his chest.
"Wait! I see something! It looks like…yes it's a group of firemen. But there is no sign of the International Rescue operatives at this time. Let's pray that they'll be all right."
John's hand clenched uncontrollably, almost shattering his wine glass. Shaking, he put it down and hurried out of the room. He automatically went for his wrist, belatedly remembering he no longer had his communicator. A wave of nausea washed over him and he fled into the bathroom where he was instantly sick.
There was a knock on the door. "John? Are you alright?"
"C-Christa…yeah…I'm OK. Just give me a minute." He leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He could feel a headache building, and clenched his eyes shut against it. Finally, when he got his trembling under control, he plastered a smile on his face and opened the door.
"John?" Christa's indigo eyes were filled with concern.
"I'm OK. Must be coming down with something." He told her.
She felt his forehead. "You're a little warm. Want to leave?"
John shook his head. "No, but I will take some aspirin if you've got any."
She slipped into the bathroom and returned a moment later, handing him two white pills and a glass of water. She watched as he swallowed them. "Are you sure you want to stay?"
He nodded. "Yeah, don't make a fuss. I'll be fine." He kissed her on the forehead as she wrapped her arms around him. "So, what happened with the Thunderbirds?" He asked a few minutes later.
Christa took his hand and they started back towards the living room. "They're not saying much. Just confirmed that two members of International Rescue were in the building when it came down. I think they got them out because that big green ship took off towards the UCLA Trauma center."
John shuddered. "Hope they're OK."
"Me too." She smiled up at him. "Go sit down. I'll go find you something to drink."
"Thanks babe." He kissed her tenderly and walked over to the couch. Susie promptly rushed over to him and soon they were both engrossed in a coloring book.
Christa walked back to the kitchen, her forehead furrowed in thought. "Something wrong dear?"
Christa looked up at her mother and shrugged. "John's not feeling well."
"You don't have to stay honey." Meg told her.
"I know, but he wants to." Christa got a glass down from the cupboard and filled it with water
Meg smiled. "What does he do? Where does he work?"
Christa turned back to her mother. "He works for his family. Tracy Enterprises. But he used to work for NASA as an astrophysicist. He said he's been on the ISS."
Now it was Meg's turn to frown. "Really. I thought I knew everyone who had been upstairs. By name anyway. Hmmmm…" She smiled at her daughter. "You're in love with him."
She looked up, her indigo eyes wide. "I am not."
Meg patted her daughter's hand. "Yes, you are."
Christa's eyes got a faraway look. "I've never met anyone like him Mom. He's sweet and shy, and so smart. He knows everything about everything. He almost caused a riot at the Museum of Science last week." She laughed remembering. "The lecturer was talking about planetary gasses or something and John kept muttering 'He's wrong. He has no clue what he's talking about.' I finally told him to say something if it was bothering him so much, and he stood up and confronted the man. You should have seen his face when John told him who he was." She laughed again. "Turns out, John was right and he even got the man to admit he was wrong." She got up and stood in the doorway. "Look at him Mom. What kind of guy would patiently sit with his girlfriend's four-year old niece, coloring?"
"If you knew Jeff Tracy, you'd expect nothing less."
"Did you ever meet him? Jeff Tracy?" Christa asked.
Meg shook her head. "I saw him a few times when I was working at Cape Canaveral, but I never got the chance to meet him. Why?"
Christa sat down at the table, her mother sat down next to her. "If someone like Jeff Tracy's son got into a near fatal plane crash, don't you think it would have made the news?"
"Is that what happened to John? I thought he looked thin, but figured he was just a workaholic like his father." Meg frowned in thought. "I suppose if you had as much money as Jeff Tracy, you could pay to keep the whole thing covered up."
Christa sighed. "You're probably right. I never thought of that."
"Honey relax." She ran her hand through her daughter's dark hair. "Take him home. But make sure you both come back and visit again soon."
Christa smiled as she hugged her mother tight. "Thanks Mom."
A short time later, John and Christa were on the road heading back to Boston. She watched John out of the corner of her eye, noting how quiet he was and that he kept rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Want me to drive?" She asked.
"No thanks." He turned and smiled at her, but she could read the pain in his eyes. "I had a good time. Your niece is a doll."
"Try seeing her when she doesn't get her way. She doesn't have that red hair for nothing."
John chuckled. "My brother Gordon is a red-head. Or he used to be when he was younger. It's darkened to auburn now. He's the prankster of the family. No one and I mean no one is safe. And when he and Alan get together, let's just say I'm glad I'm up on—" He caught himself just in time. "On the mainland most of the time."
"What exactly do you do for Tracy Enterprises?"
John shrugged. "A little of everything. Communications mostly, some research and development. I spend alot of time in the lab."
"I'd guessed that. For a guy who lives on a tropical island, you don't have much of a tan." She teased.
John merely nodded and turned his concentration back to driving. His headache was getting worse and he knew if he didn't get home soon, he'd have to pull over. Waves of nausea threatened to overwhelm him, and he struggled against it. Finally they arrived in front of Christa's apartment. He opened the door for her and walked her upstairs. She ran a hand along his cheek. "You've got a fever. Sure you don't want to stay?"
John shook his head. "I'm going home and head straight for bed." He told her. He pulled her into his arms and she could feel him trembling. "I'll call you tomorrow."
"Good night John."
He kissed her softly. "Good night."
Christa watched in concern as he walked down the stairs and faded into the night.