Local fire tenders and rescue personnel got us off Fireflash rather quickly. They herded us into the London Airport Fireflash terminal, into a conference room designed for fifty people. We were hundreds. I found myself, as one of the first into the room, squashed in the furthest corner from the door behind a pregnant mother with her three-year old son, who couldn't stop crying, and her husband, who was more than just a little irritated. And sweaty.

A hush fell over us as a voice came from the loudspeaker, explaining that we would all need to be carefully screened by medical professionals to ensure our health and safety before being released to wherever it was we were going to go. With what I knew of the Fireflash and its radiation shields, I knew the truth of the matter was they wanted to make certain we hadn't been exposed to radiation poisoning. The thought made me shudder. I was only twenty-two. What if the shields hadn't completely held? What if I, along with all of these people, was going to die of radiation sickness? Even if we lived, there was nothing to say parts of us couldn't have been damaged. It made me angry.

Of course, at the time I had no idea who was behind the bomb. It wasn't until years later when, after undergoing extensive self-hypnosis and meditation, my father realized he had been the means by which my uncle had discovered International Rescue was ready to begin operations. And it had been my uncle who had very nearly taken my life and the lives of all these innocent people. The discovery only fueled my disgust for sharing even a small portion of the blood that ran through his veins. I have never been happier as I was the moment my father told me Mr. Tracy had killed Belah Gaat. Our troubles, it seemed, were over.

At any rate, they were taking those who hadn't fit into the conference room first. An hour passed. Two hours. Exhausted, I'd wound up curling into something like a sitting-up ball in my corner and wondered how much longer I was going to have to wait. Thankfully, it turned out to be only ten minutes.

I heard another hush descend over the tired and angry crowd, but the voice I heard next wasn't coming from a loudspeaker. "Tin-Tin!" I heard. "Tin-Tin Kyrano!" I struggled to my feet, but at only five feet, four inches tall, I couldn't possibly see over the people in front of me. That's when I heard the whispers.

"Who are these guys?"

"Look, they're coming this way!"

And then the voice again. Clipped. Professional. "Tin-Tin Kyrano!"

"Here!" I called out, raising my hand. "I'm over here!"

The sea of people parted in a fashion that would have made the biblical Moses proud. And from that throng emerged two huge men wearing blue flight suits and matching hats. I saw at once the logo of the white hand on their chests and grinned.

"There you are," the dark-haired one said, his face breaking into a wide grin. "I'm Scott."

The second one stepped out from behind him, broader in chest but an inch shorter. "And I'm Virgil."

They each shook my hand in succession. "Come on, we're getting you out of here," Scott said. I nodded my head as he turned and led the way, with Virgil falling into step behind me. Here I was sandwiched between the two most perfect men I had ever laid eyes on. And I was going to live with them! I couldn't believe it. I had seen photographs of them, of course, but nothing compares with seeing the real flesh-and-blood men of International Rescue in person. I was completely smitten.

And though I found Scott attractive, it was Virgil who captured me so completely that I found myself slipping back into the shy girl of only five years before. He kept up a lively conversation as we rode to Tracy Island in Thunderbird Two. I was fascinated by the aircraft and asked incessant questions, which he, as a fellow engineer, was more than happy to answer. I don't think either of us stopped talking the entire ride.

But it wasn't just our mutual backgrounds in education. It was his voice. His eyes. I came to think of him as a gentle giant, and by the time we returned to Tracy Island, I was practically clinging to him. I remember wishing the ride hadn't ended so soon. We disembarked and Virgil rode up the elevator with me to Tracy Villa. My father was waiting there for me. What a joyous reunion! I could tell he was full of relief at my safety. He thanked Scott and Virgil profusely for what they had done on their first rescue mission.

I then spoke with Mr. Tracy, from whom I also received a relieved and welcoming hug. John was on Thunderbird Five, so I didn't meet him until much later, but I also met Gordon that night, as well as Brains. Mrs. Tracy had not yet moved to the island. They allowed me that week to get settled in, learn my way around the island and get to know them a little better before I really dug into working with Brains. Alan? Oh, Alan was around, but strangely enough I never met him. He'd been spending most of his time in the hangar working on his racing car, and left the very next morning after my arrival.

I remember the next events clearly. Because of what had happened aboard Fireflash, Mr. Tracy insisted I had to submit to a barrage of tests and a thorough examination by their resident medical expert, Brains. I'd had no idea prior to that next morning after my arrival that Brains held a medical degree in addition to his other five degrees. It unnerved me, I suppose, that he was so young - the same age as I. It wasn't that I didn't believe he was capable, it was only that I was new to this place, to this island and this family, and here was someone I'd never met who was suddenly going to get very personal with me.

And I mean very personal.

At first they were easy things like drawing blood, taking cell samples from my mouth, skin and hair and doing thorough examinations of both eyes. But then, as I sat in the sick room waiting for Brains to return from collecting my urine sample, I suddenly realized that he'd have to do at least one other thing in order to make certain I hadn't been harmed by radiation. Reproduction. There was every possibility that my reproductive organs had been damaged, and though no reports of medical problems with any of the other passengers had been made, the fact remained that I had to be checked.

There is a huge difference between spreading your legs for a lover and spreading them for the man with the highest IQ in the world so he can take samples from you.

To his credit, Brains never once appeared nervous. He never once acted unprofessionally and indeed was quite quick at what he did. I, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck. And that was the day, three days after my arrival, that I got a glimpse of the man beneath the thick blue glasses and stammering voice. Because after he was finished, he helped me sit up, took my hand and asked me if I was okay. His smile was small, his eyes were soft and his touch was gentle.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you. When do you think you'll have the results?"

"Ah, well, with my accelerated testing equipment, i-it shouldn't be more than eighteen hours, ah, Tin-Tin."

I was still uncomfortable. I hadn't yet actually worked with Brains, and to have to expose myself before we even had a professional relationship affected me deeply, for a reason I wasn't able to fathom. He backed away from me a little and removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, I couldn't help but stare. His eyes were beautiful. They were large and round and surrounded by thick black lashes, giving him an almost boyish look. It hadn't been apparent with the glasses on, and I was taken aback.

"Your eyes," I said, "are beautiful, Brains."

He blushed - actually blushed - and suddenly I felt at ease. I hopped off the bed and went to change back into my clothes. And never once have I been able to stop admiring his eyes when I'm near him. There's simply something about them. Windows into the soul, my father has always said, and it's so true. I find the eyes are what attracts me first to a man. If I see something in his eyes, theright something, the rest is simply gravy, as Gordon might say.

After the examinations, I was pronounced unaffected by radiation and in perfect health. I was so relieved, and spent the remainder of that first week flirting mercilessly with Virgil. I simply shake my head now as I look back on it. I was a terrible tease, but Virgil is nothing if not a saint, and never brings up the past. Thank heavens for that. I don't think anyone knows that for a short time, we were quite the hot and heavy couple. Not even Alan knows that.

Alan. What can I say about the youngest member of the Tracy family? When he came home from racing he was on Cloud 9 because he'd taken the entire thing, winning every one of the three he'd run. His family planned a celebration dinner, and it was at that dinner that I first saw him in person. He was seated on the opposite side of the table, at the end next to Mrs. Tracy's chair. I knew immediately that he had an interest in me, mainly because he stared at me the whole night. But rather than it making me uncomfortable, it excited me to no end.

Now I had two of them to flirt with! Make no mistake, each and every one of the Tracys have faces I never tire of looking at. Beautiful eyes, beautiful bodies - everything simply gorgeous. Any woman would kill to live as I do, among these men. But from the get-go, Scott, John and Gordon always treated me like a sister. They'd never had a sister, of course, and so I think I filled that gap for them quite nicely. Though I hadn't yet gotten over being smitten with Virgil, I couldn't help but flirt with Alan. In my defense, I must say he started the whole thing. But I admit that I encouraged it.

Those were the days. At last Virgil and I came together, but though it was fun and I enjoyed every moment we spent together, it became clear fairly quickly that we weren't meant to be more than brother and sister to one another. I don't know that either of us would be able to pinpoint it, but I think perhaps I took my cues from Virgil as to the direction our relationship was headed. And so we mutually decided that it was best to stop what we'd started and instead became friends. Of course, that doesn't keep me from sometimes falling into old habits with him, but what's a girl to do when confronted by a man such as Virgil Tracy? I doubt any of you women out there would fare so well against the Tracy charm!

That's when I realized I was free to really lay it on thick with Alan. He was by far the most approachable now in that respect, and it was simply fun. He ate up every word I said, every move I made. What girl isn't going to fall for that? Yet as time wore on, I started getting frustrated. Frustrated by his inability to take it beyond kissing or hand-holding. He was only four years younger than I, but it was like trying to get a child to understand a foreign language. He simply did not get it.

For the first year, I kept trying to take the relationship to the next level. I was certain I was madly in love with Alan, and wanted there to be more than just necking going on between us. But the closer I got, the further he seemed to retreat. It upset me, especially when he would then become so jealous when I went out with anyone else, like Eddie Houseman. The trick Mrs. Tracy played to make me think Alan was sick was quite ingenious of her, I must say. Talk about a smart cookie - Ruth Tracy makes it pretty clear where Jeff and his sons got their brains.

The second year of my time on Tracy Island found me heavily involved with Brains in several experiments, including one that led to the invention of a magnetic healing device which we co-own the patent on through Tracy Corporation. The hours I spent in the lab or somewhere on the island with Brains involved in maintenance, upgrades, experiments...once we even spent two weeks on Thunderbird Five with John working out some glitches in the mainframe for Mandarin translation. Being fluent in the language, it was wonderful for me to feel so important in solving the issue at hand.

We've been through so much together, Brains and I. Though I'm not a woman who babbles endlessly by any means, I do tend to talk a lot more than any of the men I live with. Most of my chit-chat is with Penny, of course, but sometimes I just had too much work to do, and it was during my times of frustration over Alan that I turned to Brains. It wasn't intentional, really, it was simply that I was down or upset, and he would notice and ask me what was wrong. It would come spilling out as bitten-off words of anger or sorrowful words of regret or any other number of emotions that Alan Tracy evokes in me.

Make no mistake, Alan and I always do end up having a good time. Sometimes we're inseparable to the point where he'll hang around the lab with me while I'm working, whenever he's not involved in some sort of maintenance or other work of his own. But it wasn't until my third year on Tracy Island that I finally got Alan Tracy into bed. I shan't reveal too much, as Alan may get testy. But I will tell you that having already rounded that corner with older brother Virgil, it seems that all Tracys are...how shall I put this gently...well-endowed. And full of energy.

I would say that probably for about three months we were stupidly giddy and ecstatic...basically, we were in love. But then Skyship One happened. And that was the trip upon which I discovered that perhaps my feelings for Alan, though deep, were not going to lead down the path I'd been hoping for.