"Get up. Come on, Virgil, get your lazy ass out of bed!"

Virgil rolled away from where his brother was trying to drag off his blankets and pulled a pillow over his head.

"Come on, Virg. I don't want to go alone. Wake up."

Sighing, Virgil cracked open an eye. "G'way, I wanna sleep."

"Don't make me take drastic measures."

Shutting his one eye, Virgil responded. "Scott, why can't I just for once sleep? Why do you always feel obligated to torture me?"

Scott chuckled, "You really want me to answer that? Come on, give in. You know I'm just going to stay here until you get up."

With a loud dramatic sigh, Virgil rolled to look at the clock. "Aw, it's only seven o'clock! Scott, just because you don't sleep doesn't mean I don't. Come back in a couple of hours, and we'll talk."

"In a couple of hours, I'll be eating breakfast at Lenshin's. Now get up and get moving."

It took a moment for his brother's remark to sink in. "Lenshin's? You're going to Lenshin's?"

"Yes, and so are you. Now, get your butt in gear, I want to get going."

Rubbing his eyes with a weary hand, Virgil gave in and sat up. "What are we going to Lenshin's for?"

Scott sat on the bed, as much to keep his brother from lying back down as anything. "Grandma thought it would be a nice surprise for us to go and join the kids for breakfast." Scott leaned in and said conspiratorially, "Actually, I think she just wants us out from underfoot. She's doing that kitchen whirlwind thing."

"Couldn't I just stay out from underfoot in bed?" Virgil asked wistfully.

"No, you can't. Now come on, I want to be out of here in twenty minutes." Scott hauled his brother to his feet. "Go. Shower. Shave. I'll be back in ten minutes, and if you're back in bed when I get here, you will suffer the consequences."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me." Scott smiled dangerously.

"God, you're a bully." Virgil said as he headed for the bathroom, giving in to the inevitable.

Ten minutes later, Virgil was showered, shaved, and pulling on his jeans when Scott burst into the room carrying a large bucket of ice-rimed water. "Excellent! I guess I can go put this away."

Virgil glanced at the bucket resentfully and replied. "Give me a minute to put on my shoes, and we can go."

Smiling, Scott left the room taking the bucket with him. Virgil finished dressing and headed down the stairs. Almost without thinking, his steps turned toward the kitchen, where the heavenly aroma of coffee pulled him. Pushing through the door, he found his grandmother already busy at the sink. "Good morning, Grandma."

"Oh, good, you're just in time. Lift this into the oven for me, honey." Ruth gestured to a large blue enameled roasting pan.

"Sure." Virgil opened the oven door and hefted the roaster. "Wow, it's a big one this year!"

"For the price I paid, it should be! No, push it to the back. That's the way. Thank you, dear. Now, take this thermos and get going. Your brother is as antsy as a two-year-old on a sugar jag."

"You're sure you don't need me to stick around? I can help you get ready, you know."

"You're a good man, Virgil, but the best help you can give me is to get Scott out of the house. Mind you, I want all of you home by noon. That is when I'll need the fetching and carrying to start."

"Okay, Grandma. I'll see you later."

"Have a good time, dear."

Virgil took the thermos from the counter and headed out the door. Not seeing Scott anywhere in the downstairs rooms, he went out the front door, to find Scott sitting on the porch railing looking out over the bleak November landscape. "Okay, I'm all set." Virgil said, zipping his jacket against the cold.

"About time. Let's take your car."

Virgil looked over at the generic rental car that Scott had arrived in and grinned. "Good choice."

"Here, gimme the keys, I want to drive."

Cocking his head, Virgil replied, "Sure, but if you drive, then I get to fly."

Scott narrowed his eyes. "There is no way you are going to fly, Virg."

"Works for me." Virgil said smugly, trotting down the stairs to his car, getting in the driver's seat. Scott stood where he was, his face indicating he was trying to figure out where he had lost control. Finally, shaking his head in disgust, he moved to the passenger side of the car.

Getting in, he said, "So, how fast can this hunk of junk move?"

Virgil grinned and floored it, fishtailing up the gravel drive. Scott settled back with his own grin to enjoy the ride. The two brothers headed to the far side of the farm where their father had built an airstrip and hangar several years earlier. The trip took very little time considering the speed that Virgil pushed the Sportster to. Arriving, Scott nodded in satisfaction. "This is a good little car. I'm glad I talked Dad out of the SUV he wanted to get you."

Virgil, hearing for the first time that Scott had a hand in his graduation present, smiled. "You know, of course, I asked him for that SUV."

"I know. Virg, I love you like a brother, but damn, you have the taste of a soccer mom."

Virgil chuckled. "Well, I wanted the SUV for a lot of reasons, but I have to agree, I love this car."

"Of course you do," Scott snorted. "Who wouldn't? Let's take the SportJet."

Virgil grinned, knowing Scott had no intention of taking anything else than the quick little turbofan jet. "Okay."

The two brothers headed for the hangar, Virgil operating the big clamshell doors as Scott climbed aboard to start the checklist. When Virgil stuck his head in the cockpit, Scott said disgustedly, "She's low on fuel."

Virgil responded mildly, "All right." He disembarked and strode out the door and across the field. As Scott taxied out, Virgil headed to the massive fueling robot and with a few commands into the console, got it moving to the jet's fuel intake. The entire fuel loading operation took less than ten minutes.

When Virgil re-boarded, Scott was ready, firing up the engine before his brother took the co-pilot seat. As the plane taxied to the end of the strip, Virgil looked over the controls, going through his own mental checklist. Noticing, Scott remarked dryly, "If you're ready?"

Unfazed, Virgil completed his inspection and replied, "Sure. Let's go."

Scott pushed the throttle forward with more force than necessary, and the nimble little jet leapt forward, pushing both brothers deep into their seats. Virgil sucked in his breath, knowing what was coming, and sure enough, when the jet was off the ground, Scott put it into a sharp climb.

The plane hit 25,000 feet before Scott leveled her out. Virgil noticed that, as usual, his older brother was more relaxed and calm in the air than he ever was on the ground. Trying to mimic his brother's peace, Virgil pulled out the thermos. Pouring himself a cup, he drank deeply. "Ah, that's better."

Scott glanced over. "You going to share or what?"

Frowning fiercely, Virgil replied, "You get me out of bed in the middle of the night, you drag me away from my home, and you expect me to share the tiny amount of coffee I have?"

Scott eyed the half gallon-sized thermos and said casually, "How many barrel rolls do you think it would take to empty that thermos?"

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Virgil gave in. "Oh, okay, but only because you're family."

"Thank you, o munificent one."

"You're welcome." Virgil sniffed, and poured out a cup for his brother, carefully handing it to him.

Scott sipped, and nodded. "What is it about Grandma's coffee? I know she makes it just like everybody else does. Why is hers always so much better?"

"I make a point of never questioning the mysteries of the universe."

Scott chuckled, then turned his attention to the radio, reporting in to Kansas flight control, giving his flight plan and getting instructions on altitude and squawk codes. Virgil relaxed into the flight, watching the miles fly by as they sped to Kansas City. As the country gave way to more and more development, Scott got on the radio to Tracy Industries' semi-private airport at the edge of the city.

Their father had recognized the need for easy access to the city, and had for several years spearheaded redevelopment of a rundown area on the outskirts of the town. As part of the redevelopment, Tracy Airport had been built to accommodate the needs of a number of companies in the area.

The two strip airport was ringed with hangars owned by various Fortune 500 companies, but the best part, as far as the Tracys themselves were concerned was Lenshin's Restaurant, located adjacent to the Tracy Industries hangar. The restaurant, which featured oversized portions of American comfort food, was a favorite of all five of the Tracy sons.

Scott landed the jet with a feather touch, and taxied to park next to a much larger ten seat executive jet. Completing their shutdown checklist, the two young men got out and headed across the frigid tarmac for the warmth of the restaurant.

Hunching with his hands stuffed in his pockets, Scott shook his head. "And those guys spent the night outdoors? Maybe we should check the coroner's office, see if any frozen stiffs were picked up."

"Well, Alan said they had heat lamps, so they were probably okay."

"Hmm." Scott grunted, and pulled open the door to the restaurant, waving Virgil through ahead of him. Virgil entered breathing deep the scents of fresh baked breads and pastries, a smile on his face.

"Well, I haven't see you boys for a month of Sundays!" The hostess was a middle-aged woman who had been with the restaurant since opening.

Scott grinned, "Hey, Kristie! Lookin' gorgeous as usual!"

Smiling with pleasure, Kristie asked, "Is it just you two?"

"No, we're expecting the kids. Can we have that big table by the window?"

"For you boys, anything." The hostess took a couple of menus from behind the counter and led the way toward the back of the restaurant, to a table overlooking the runway. Scott and Virgil pulled out chairs as Kristie handed them the menus. "Let me just get you some coffee, then I'll send the waitress over."

"Thanks, Kristie, you're a lifesaver." Virgil said with heartfelt appreciation. He had practically lived on coffee during his college years, and never felt fully awake until he had several cups in the morning.

One of the great things about Lenshin's to the Tracy point of view was the coffee. Kristie brought over a large pot, and poured each man a mugful. Then she reached across the table to flick on a warming base, and left the pot. "Are your brothers coming soon? Shall I wait before sending the waitress?"

Scott and Virgil glanced at each other, confirming their desire, and shaking his head, Scott answered for them. "No, send her over. We're hungry, and we're not sure how long the guys will be."

Smiling, Kristie nodded and left gesturing to a young lady wearing the leather apron denoting a waitress. The girl came over, pad at the ready. "Hi, my name is Maddie, and I'll be your server today. Are you ready to order?"

Both young men sat a little straighter in the presence of the pretty young waitress, and Virgil said winningly, "What do you recommend?"

The waitress cocked her head, as openly appraising them as they were her. "How hungry are you? We've got a great sticky bun, or the chicken fried steak is really good?"

Scott's eyes lit up. "Sticky buns sound great. I'll have two and a side of bacon, please."

"Any you, sir?"

Virgil was tempted to say what he really wanted, which included the waitress, a large bed and plenty of time, but settled for "I'll have the same, but two orders of bacon, fried crispy."

Maddie reached for the menus, but Virgil pulled them away. "That's just for starters. We have more people joining us later."

The flicker of disappointment in the waitress's eyes said she assumed the additional people would be women. With her smile just a bit plastic, she nodded and said, "I'll have those buns warmed up for you."

As she walked away, both brothers leaned a bit to get a look at her backside, Scott muttering, "You just do that."

Left alone, Scott eyed his brother. "So, you have any time off next month?"

"I think I can get a four-day weekend around the fifteenth. You wanna stay in Houston, or you want me to come up here?"

Scott toyed with his coffee cup. "I think I'll come to you. Give John and Al a little quality time together."

Virgil smiled. "Uh-huh."

Scott grinned back. They both knew that if Virgil came home, they would end up doing 'family' things. Not a bad thing, but the two eldest Tracy siblings had discovered as they had gotten older that they were close friends as well as brothers, and shared similar interests and tastes. It was only natural that they would want some time together without their younger brothers with them.

Glancing out the window, Virgil gestured toward the Tracy hangar. Scott gazed out to see an SUV with a Tracy Industries logo on the side pull up next to the executive jet. As the brothers watched, a person dressed in a heavy down coat with a knit cap pulled down over his ears got out and walked to the jet, using keys to open up a hatch.

Although to some, the heavy clothing might have made the man anonymous, to the Tracy brothers, he was totally recognizable as their brother, Gordon. They watched as he started to unload various bundles and bags from the SUV, loading them into the jet. Virgil commented lazily, "Do you suppose we should go help?"

"No," Scott replied, "By the time we got out there, he'll be finished, and here come those sticky buns. I want to eat mine in peace."

Virgil glanced up to see Maddie headed their way with a large tray. She put down two plates covered with the huge, nut-crusted cinnamon buns, and a single large plate piled high with bacon. "Anything else for now?"

Scott eyed his breakfast and nodded. "Yes, we're going to need another cup, and two more buns, please. And we'd both appreciate it if you'd hurry with the buns."

Virgil nodded fervently, not wanting to lose any of his breakfast to his younger brother, who had never seemed to learn the difference between 'mine' and 'someone else's'. With a slightly mystified smile, Maddie nodded, and left.

Virgil and Scott returned to their observation of their brother. Gordon continued to load the jet. After several minutes, Virgil frowned. "How much junk did he buy?"

Scott shook his head. "My question is where are they going to put anything John or Alan got?"

Virgil nodded, mesmerized as Gordon seemingly loaded more bags than the SUV could have possibly carried. "I vote we get him a clown car for Christmas."

Finally, several minutes after Maddie had brought the cup and extra buns, Gordon closed and locked both the hatch of the jet and the doors of the SUV. He was noticeably dragging as he headed for the restaurant.

Scott and Virgil watched as he came in, and was greeted by one of the waitresses, Kristie apparently having gone on a break. After a moment's conversation, the waitress grabbed several menus and led Gordon to his own table, across the aisle from his brothers.

The two elder Tracys watched as the young man sat down, ordered coffee, and then just seemed to stare off into space. Virgil and Scott looked at each other, then Virgil said in a pitying tone, "Pathetic. One measly all-nighter and he's useless."

Scott nodded. "It's that Navy training. It dumbs them right down."

They watched as the comments finally registered on the young man, and he slowly turned his head. He stared at them for a moment, blinking, then a slow smile started. "Hi guys!"

"Hi yourself. Get over here, squirt!" Scott smiled. Gordon's smile turned into a huge grin as he got up from his table and moved over, sitting next to his oldest brother.

"Gimme a hug!" Gordon reached and grabbed his brother in a bearhug.

Disconcerted, Scott hugged back for a moment, then pushed his brother away. "No kissing."

Gordon's smile turned devilish, and he immediately made smacking noises. Scott rolled his eyes, and shoved the third plate of rolls in front of his brother. "God."

"For me? Great! Push that bacon over here, too."

Virgil snorted, "That's MY bacon. Order your own."

"Okay." Gordon replied calmly, as he reached past Scott to snag a couple of pieces, shoving them into his mouth to Virgil's sharp but futile protest.

"So, where are the others?" Scott asked.

"John's on his way. Allie's got hung up at Zottner's. Those shirts are gonna land up costing you a fortune, bro."

"What shirts?" Scott asked.

"Virg asked Alan to stop at Zottner's and pick him up a couple of ties and some shirts. Tragically, our dear brother has discovered that all the crazy grandmas shop there. Last I heard, he was fighting for his life in the underwear department." Gordon stated casually. "So, Scotty, I thought you couldn't get leave. What happened?"

"I'm shipping out to Izmir on December 29th, so they gave me five weeks."

Gordon stopped in mid-bite of his roll and looked seriously at his brother. "Hell of a way to spend New Years."

"Well, you can only handle that giant ball so many times." Scott said referencing the ball that dropped in Times Square to mark the New Year.

Gordon grinned. "True."

"What about you? Now that you've graduated basic training, where are you going to be posted?"

"I report to Groton on December fifth."

"Groton? Where's that? For that matter, what's that?" Virgil asked.

"It's the Navy's submarine school. It's at Groton Connecticut."

"Submarines? You're going into submarines?" Scott asked shifting uneasily.

"Yes and no. I report for an intensive three month course, then I serve for one four month tour, and then I report for duty at Seadeep base."

Scott and Virgil both looked at their brother stunned. Virgil finally cleared his throat. "I thought you wanted to sail the seven seas, not be crushed by them."

Gordon grinned. "You have to serve at one of the deep domes to qualify for WASP. I was lucky to get a billet in this program. By the time I'm twenty-five, I'll be commanding my own stingray class sub."

Virgil just shook his head. "Okay, John is officially right."

"Huh?" Gordon looked confused.

"John contends that when you were a baby, aliens came down and exchanged you for the real Gordon Tracy. He says they got the better end of the deal."

Never without a comeback, Gordon replied, "Well, I guess that explains why I'm so much better looking than the rest of you."

Scott punched his brother's shoulder, and Virgil threw a piece of bacon at the younger man. Grinning happily, Gordon glanced out of the window, then did a doubletake. "Well, what do you know."