Chapter Five: Letting Go
Scott sat up, flinging Lana - who'd fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder - clear off the bed. Needless to say, she woke up too.
"Scott!" his wife yelled, rather annoyed, "What the heck are you thinking! I'm not exactly supposed to be thrown around in-"
He looked around, disoriented, his hair in every direction. She'd stopped yelling only because Jeff had started again. "What's his problem?" Scott mumbled, getting up out of the bed.
"His problem?" Lana yelled, standing up. "You're the one I'd be worrying about right around now."
Scott stood up from where he'd bent over to grab a shirt. "I'm sorry, Lana," he said genuinely, taking her hands in his, "You know I didn't wake up like that on purpose. And you know I know you're not supposed to be tossed around-"
"Yer darned right!" she yelled, her accent coming through thickly. She shuddered in anger, withdrawing her hands and crossing her arms. A couple of deep breaths later, though, she calmed down enough to forgive him. The same could not be said for Jeff.
As the couple made their way down the hall, the cussing grew louder. They rounded the corner to find their father all but jumping up and down with anger. His face was as red as either of them had ever seen it and his arms were flailing as if he did not know what to do.
Gordon soon appeared, followed closely by Tin-Tin's parents. Scott was the first to brave talking. "Dad . . ," he began slowly, looking to his wife for inspiration, "are you okay?"
Jeff abruptly stopped and stared at his son. Scott almost shook with fear. "No," Jeff managed to say through gritted teeth, a vein in his neck pulsing. "I most certainly am not okay, Scott."
He turned away and walked behind his desk. He ripped the cordless phone off the charger and rapidly dialled a number. He collapsed into his leather chair, staring at his eldest son.
Lana looked around her, having noticed one of her brothers was now missing. "Scott," she whispered, trying to be discrete, "where's your brother?"
Scott looked around, then looked at his dad. A sick feeling swept through his stomach. "Dad? This wouldn't have anything to do with Virgil not being here, would it?"
He took his father's loud, incomprehensible yell as a yes.
–
As Tessa woke up, she looked around in wonder at the room she was in. It was the same feeling drunks get when they wake up in somewhere that they've never been. Soon, though, the feeling wore off and the events of last night came back to her. She leaned back against her pillow with a secret smile on her face.
There was a small groan from beside her, she turned over to see that Virgil was waking up. She placed her hand delicately on the side of his face as his eyes flitted open. It took him a moment to figure out what was going on, but he caught on quicker than Tessa. And unlike her smile, he groaned in an embarrassed way.
"I fell asleep, didn't I?" he asked, only one eye open as he said it.
She laughed, removing her hand from his face.
He cringed with laughter, and wiped the side of his face as if he could make his embarrassment go away. "Oh, man . . . I'm sorry, Tess. I had no intentions of falling asleep what-so-ever."
She leaned on her fist. "I gathered that." She began to blush.
Virgil turned towards her, taking her free hand in his. "Darling . . . sweetheart, I promise I will make it up to you."
Tessa smirked, dropping her fist. In truth, she had been this close to falling asleep herself. She let go of his hand and rolled over so that her back was to him. "You had your chance." A smile was on her face the entire time.
Virgil was about to protest when -
Knock, knock.
They both sat up, as the person behind the door brought them back into reality. Parker, Tessa mouthed in Virgil's direction.
Knock, knock, the person on the other side of the door persisted.
"Alright, alright, Parker!" Tessa said, slipping out of bed and putting on her slippers. "I'm coming!"
"This is not Parker!" a very annoyed upper-class British accent called out.
Virgil shot Tessa a look of pure fear. "Penny!" he whispered. He quickly hopped out of bed, but not before Lady Penelope had the door open . . .
. . . and almost fell over from the sight of Virgil and Tessa just getting out of bed. After all, Tess was wearing the night gown Virgil himself had described, upon giving it to her for her birthday, as 'Not doing the greatest job of keeping Victoria's Secret'. "Oh, mmm . . ," Penny looked to the ceiling, her voice exasperated. "just what I need." She rolled her eyes. Tessa walked over to her.
"Penny, it's not what it looks like," she persisted, eyes wide.
She just shook her head, and lifted the cell phone - she'd kept it hidden behind her back - to her ear. "I stand corrected. Virgil is indeed here . . . yes, of course," she said, every word spoken with a bit more annoyance than the last. She handed the phone to Tessa and Virgil (who had just made it to the front of the room). "It's for you."
Virgil took the phone in two fingers, making a face as if it were the most terrifying thing he'd ever held. "Dad?" he asked cautiously, trying to smile.
He quickly held the phone at arm's length, and could still hear every single word being shouted at him. When his father paused for breath, he took it as an opportunity to explain himself. "Dad - I just thought-"
"Oh, you thought? Is that what you did? Because it certainly doesn't seem like it to me!" Jeff yelled back at him. Virgil could hear the vein in his father's neck pulsing.
"Since I'm here, maybe we could -"
"Could what? Rescue some people while wearing jeans? Take Thunderbird One out for another joyride? DESTROY THE CITY? Tell me, Virgil, what have you planned for this craft? Does your fiancée know about your little adventure last night? Or do I have to tell her?"
Virgil gulped. His words tumbled out rather quickly. "T-T-T-Tess had nothing to do with this, Dad. Well, besides me meeting her, I mean. But it was all my idea. Don't bring her into this. I mean it. Let's just keep this between me and you."
"Put Tessa on the phone, Virgil," Jeff said in an overly calm voice.
"Now, Dad, be reasonab-"
"Put . . . Tessa . . . on . . . the . . . phone."
Virgil winced and handed the phone to a frightened Tessa. "He wants to talk to you."
Tessa took the phone. "Hi?"
She waited patiently while her soon-to-be-father-in-law explained the situation. It took about two minutes, and all she said was "mmhmm", "oh", "huh" and "I see". Virgil was getting nervous.
Finally the conversation came to an end. "Alright," she said in a perky voice. She was even smiling. Smiling. "Yes, Jeff. Could you give me a moment?" she asked politely, still smiling. She handed the phone to Penny, then turned to Virgil.
"VIRGIL - WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? You stole a Thunderbird! My Thunderbird, to be exact! So, I repeat, what were you thinking?" Tessa exploded at him.
Yeah, this definitely wasn't going Virgil's way. "I . . . needed to see you. You know that."
"That is what jets are for!" Tess yelled back.
Great, thought Virgil, now the vein in her neck is pulsing.
He could see there was no way he was getting out of this alive. He winced, hoping Tessa would go easy on him. After all, the wedding was only two months off.
Penny lifted the phone to her ear. "I'll talk with them . . . yes . . . I'll phone you back later. Goodbye, Jeff." She snapped the phone shut.
"I - I needed to get here fast," Virgil stammered, sounding as if he were making it up as he went alone . . . not to say that wasn't exactly what he was doing. "You were in need of comforting-"
Penelope gave him the strangest look. I didn't think her face could do that . . , Virgil thought.
"I mean . . . arr . . . you needed to talk to me . . . because I'm the only one who knows about the . . . uh . . . night terrors." Yes, Virgil, his inner voice comforted him, Night terrors. Nice excuse. Now please, do shut up before you get yourself in even deeper sh-
"Night terrors?" Penelope questioned, turning then to Tessa, who had somehow managed to find her silk robe.
Tess looked down at the floor. Virgil knew she'd be mad at him later for telling . . . again. "Yes . . . I didn't want you to worry. Virgil is the only one who seems to be able to calm me down after one, so I called him."
"It was my idea to come. Not Tessa's," Virgil put in.
Lady Penelope paused for a moment. "And . . ," yet another pause ensued as she thought how to phrase her words, "what . . ? Did anything . . ?" She could not bring herself to say these things. A lady of her stature did not usually have to talk about this sort of thing.
Virgil and Tessa both shook their heads, looking as if they were scared. "Absolutely nothing happened," Tess insisted, resisting the urge to add because he fell asleep.
There was a moment of silence. Penelope was thinking, and the pair seemed to understand that they were not to speak again.
Finally, Penny looked back up at them. "Alright . . . well, Tessa, I think you and I both know that we couldn't really get done what we needed to by the end of tomorrow anyway . . . but we'll have to send back Tin-Tin and John in a couple days so that International Rescue isn't short-staffed. We could probably have them fly home in Thunderbird One."
Virgil looked at Tess. Was she saying what he thought she was saying . . . ?
"So," Penelope finished, "I guess you two could stay an extra week or so and finish all this wedding stuff. But on the condition that you sleep in separate rooms this time."
Please. If it didn't happen at home on the island, they certainly weren't going to sleep in separate rooms here. Still, they had to agree, wedding plans were looming . . .
"Alright," Tess finally stated. "It's a deal."
–
MuffinTree37: So . . . did you figure it out yet?
HoboJoe214: Figure out . . . what, exactly?
MuffinTree37: rolleyes You know. The whole "I know who you are" thing.
HoboJoe214: Oh! That!
Pause
MuffinTree37: )- I'll take that as a 'no'.
HoboJoe214: You'd be right if you did. :P
MuffinTree37: Any guesses?
HoboJoe214: Okay! I confess! I'm not who you think I am! I am an international spy who's soul mission is to make sure the world's supply of jelly donuts never dives too low.
MuffinTree37: rolleyes That was so funny, I forgot to laugh.
HoboJoe214: Could you give me a hint? Even a little one?
MuffinTree37: How about I just tell you?
HoboJoe214: Would you? Please?
MuffinTree37: . . . Promise not to crack a joke or dump me?
HoboJoe214: Why would I dump you for something I am . . . ?
MuffinTree37: Do you promise?
HoboJoe214: Okay, I promise I will not dump you for whatever it is you are planning on saying next.
MuffinTree37: And . . . ?
HoboJoe214: And I promise not to make a joke or flip out.
pause
MuffinTree37 nervously: Gordon, you're the first guy I've ever really been in love with.
Long pause
MuffinTree37: Well . . . ?
HoboJoe214: I . . . don't know what to say.
MuffinTree37: I knew you'd freak out.
HoboJoe214: Mim, wait -
MuffinTree37 HAS LOGGED OFF
–
John had enough for one morning. The sight of his brother at breakfast had been shocking enough. Then finding out he'd spent the night with Tessa (though was completely denying anything at all happened) was almost too much. Something about the humour in Tessa's face told him that nothing happened at all but, still, even the idea of something happening between his brother and his best friend was revolting.
So, he'd decided to take a guy's day and stroll around London. Of course, when he announced his intentions to Lady Penelope, she'd insisted Parker go with him. John reluctantly agreed, but managed to "lose" Parker somewhere in the mall.
So now John was left alone to entertain himself - which suited him just fine. Why on Earth anyone would want to be escorted everywhere like the royal family was beyond him.
He rounded the next corner and his eyes fell upon a faded old sign above a bakery. John looked at his watch, realizing it was lunchtime, almost exactly. I wonder if they sell sandwiches.
As he walked into the shop, a little bell tinkled above his head. Cute, he thought, just like the rest of this place. A quick look around had revealed a small shop, where most of the tables were round and made of wood. There was a counter, and a glass display showing off beautiful cakes and wonderfully decorated cupcakes. He saw just a little bit down from this case was another counter, this one looking as if it were meant to be a deli. And, just before the area opened up into the dining section, a staircase grew from the floor to the next level.
"I'll be right there!" A Scottish accent called from the top of these stairs, apparently hearing the bell.
"Take your time," John called back, still observing this place. It was unusually quiet for being lunchtime. But then, he supposed, it was just after one. The rush was probably over.
Footsteps pounded the stairs. John half-expected a large person to be the cause of them by the noise. But, instead, a slender girl appeared at the stairs. She wore an old apron that was covered in flour and bits of dough. Her sleeves were rolled up past her elbows, revealing hands that had been hastily washed. On her face were several smudges of flour and her dirty-blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail.
"May I help ya?" she asked with her accent, a smile on her face.
To a lot of people, she would have seemed a mess . . . but John saw her as beautiful.
"Yes," he answered too quickly, "- Or, at least, I hope so."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Ya hope so?"
Stupid! he silently scolded himself. "I mean, can you make a sandwich with - er, for, me?"
He could tell she was stifling a laugh. "Considering this is a sandwich shop and bakery, I think I can." She giggled as she moved toward the deli. He followed her. "So what do ya want?"
He looked confused. "A sandwich."
She closed her eyes and just laughed. "I meant who do ya want on it?"
"Who? I, uh, thought you were going to make it." This girl was terribly confusing John.
She blushed. "I meant 'what'. . . what do you want on it?"
"Sure you did," he reassured her with a grin. In a sexy voice, he asked, "Can I get a BLT on rye?"
She smiled and nodded, which seemed like the smart thing to do considering her inarticulateness today. She took out some fresh bread and began to put toppings on it. "Would you like mayonnaiseon top?" she said carefully, not wanting to embarrass herself again.
He laughed. "Sure."
She squeezed the mayo onto the pile of toppings and handed it to him. "That will be £1.50."
He handed her the money, and took the sandwich. "Thank you - would you like to have lunch with me?" He couldn't believe he'd had the nerve to ask her. Oh, she was going to turn him down so quick his head was going to spin, he just knew it.
"I'm sorry," she said, an apologetic look on her face.
He grinned. "That's okay; thanks for the sandwich." John turned towards the door to leave.
"But I'm free for dinner!" the blonde called after John. He paused and looked at her. She smiled at him. "There's a diner just around the corner from here. I'll be waiting there at six. And, by the way, the name's Shauna."
–
Jeff hung up the phone. "That was Penny."
Scott stood up from where he sat on the couch with a tired Lana. He was fully dressed now, as was she, but they looked like they should still be in bed. His eyes were dark from apparent lack of sleep. "What's going on?" he asked.
Jeff stood up and walked to his son. "The plan is that since Virgil is there anyway, they might as well stay and get some wedding plans done. The two of them are planning to stay another week, give or take a few days."
"But that leaves us short-handed! We only have two people - well, plus Brains," Scott protested.
Jeff was a bit annoyed at his son's interruption, but he let it slide. "As I was saying, those two are going to stay there, but John and Tin-Tin will be coming home in a couple of days, and will fly the Thunderbird home then. They just need to have a final fitting. And -" he began again, anticipating his son's next interruption, "- in the meantime, we also have Lana who can go out, giving us a solid four. And we can always ask them to take the Thunderbird to a scene."
Scott sat beside his wife. He wasn't sure that he wanted her going on a mission right now. Lana had been sick now for awhile. His dad insisted that she just wasn't used to the heat, but Scott worried about her.
–
"Oh, Tin-Tin!" Tessa gushed, rising to greet her cousin, who'd just stepped out of the dressing room in the newly finished dress. "That just looks beautiful!"
". . . for a bride's maid dress," Tin-Tin mumbled.
Tessa thought the dress looked pretty good. She wanted her wedding to be the way she and Virgil wanted it. That was why she'd designed the clothing herself. She didn't want one of those Chanel or Gucci weddings all of Virgil's private school classmates would be having. Her and Virgil's wedding was going to be the way they wanted it, down to the outfits.
Penny had already gone, as did John. John hated anything having to do with the seamstress, but this time it had been more bearable. That might have been because there were no longer pins anywhere. Virgil and Tessa were the only ones left to go.
The seamstress was fawning over Tin-Tin now, making sure everything unsightly was hidden, all her good features framed, etc. Finally, after a few minutes of this, the seamstress let her change back to her jeans and a tee shirt.
"Virgil, your turn," the seamstress announced. Virgil was sitting with Tessa, his arm wrapped around her. He took his arm from around his fiancée. Virgil walked up to the lady, grabbed the tux Tessa had designed for him and went into a room.
Tessa sat anxiously. She really hoped it looked alright. It was one thing for her bride's maids or dude-of-honour to look stupid, but if her husband did, she would have been mortified. She sat there patiently.
Finally, he appeared. Tessa only half let out the breath she was holding. It fit, but did he like it?
Virgil examined himself in the mirror. His tuxedo was formal, but it was light enough that he wouldn't sweat through it on the island. It had a wonderfully cut jacket, and a silver vest and matching bow-tie (one that wasn't too cheesy). He was so happy with it and especially the fact she hadn't made any of it pink.
He turned around and looked directly at Tessa as he spoke to the seamstress. "It looks and fits great."
Tess beamed. "Good," the seamstress said. "Now take it off quickly and then leave the room. We need to fit Tessa now, and you cannot see."
Tess laughed. He turned around and went back into the dressing room. Virgil came out less than a minute later and handed the outfit to the seamstress. He stopped only briefly on his way out to help Tessa up. She stood, and he kissed her. "Don't be to long," he whispered playfully in her ear. With that, he went outside to wait.
Tess was very nervous. Last time they'd changed so many things. She took the bag from the lady and walked into the change room. As she began to put it on, she hoped it would look alright. She straightened the necklace she had on and stood in her room for a little bit, feeling too nervous to walk out.
But she managed. When she walked out, no one said anything. She walked over to the mirror to see what was wrong. Nothing was.
She was beautiful.
–
HoboJoe214: Mimosa, I know you're there. Please say something.
HoboJoe214: Mim, I swear I'm not angry. And I'm not going to brake up with you. I . . . I really like you.
MuffinTree37: But you think this is going too fast?
HoboJoe214: Yes . . . I mean, no. I don't know. I really don't.
MuffinTree37: I don't either. I really like what we have . . . I guess I made that obvious. What should we do?
HoboJoe214: Well . . . I don't know. Maybe we should slow things down.
MuffinTree37: Gordon, if you hadn't noticed, we're in an internet relationship. Things can't get much slower.
HoboJoe214: I suppose you're right. Maybe we should just let things take their course. Move on.
MuffinTree37: Okay. : ) Anything new on your end?
HoboJoe214: My brother is going to come home soon. He'll be here for a couple weeks, then he's going away again.
–
John laughed at Shauna, who had sauce on her chin. He took a napkin and dabbed it away. This was their third time out in two days. He was leaving late that night.
"Do you really have to go?" Shauna pouted. "It's been so much fun having you here these past few days."
He smiled - though it wasn't as if he hadn't been already. Shauna brought out the best in him. "I'm so sorry, but I really have to go. I was just up here for the wedding preparations."
"Well, you have to call me. And email me. Every chance you get . . . promise?" she asked, a sweet grin coming across her face. She tossed her layered, shoulder-length blonde hair over one shoulder.
He laughed, and took her hand, which was sitting on the table. "Promise."
–
Tessa was helping John to pack. "So, where have you been these past couple of days?" she asked in an innocent voice, as if she had no idea.
"Around," John replied playfully.
Tessa made a face at him. "Don't you lie to me, John Tracy. I know very well there's a girl involved. The look on your face is a dead giveaway."
He paused. Then grinned like an idiot. "Her name is Shauna."
Tessa nodded, smiling, as she folded a pair of pants and placed them into a suitcase. "Uh-huh, and what does she do?"
He shrugged, putting a few pairs of boxers into his suitcase. "She works at this cute little bakery and deli in London. I met her while . . ."
Tessa stopped paying attention momentarily, and paused in folding the shirt in her arms. Bells were going off in her head. It couldn't be . . . could it? "Where did you say she worked?"
"At a bakery on Jackson street. Why?" he asked, paying little attention to Tessa.
Tess put the shirt down and whirled around to look at him. "You're not talking about Shauna O'Dell are you? Blonde girl with a Scottish accent?"
John stood up and looked at Tessa. He smiled. "Yeah . . . ?"
"John, I worked at that bakery. And I knew Shauna."
John stopped packing. "No way."
"Yeah." Tessa nodded.
He paused for a moment. "Does she know that you're supposedly dead?"
Tess looked at him like he was an idiot (which he was sometimes). "Yes, because I talk to her everyday - how should I know? I haven't seen or heard from her since I left. Though I do know she's a bit young for you. As I recall, she was a few years younger than me. Wouldn't surprise me if she's just twenty now."
"I'm not that old," John threw back at her playfully, resuming packing.
She rolled her eyes. "You're twenty-seven, and she's twenty-nothing. Do the math," she laughed.
He threw a shirt at her. She laughed and tossed it in the suitcase. "You're okay with this, right?" he asked her.
She nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. As long as you never take me to that bakery," Tess finished seriously. Being in this situation any other time would have driven her insane. But having her fiancé around put Tess in a good mood.
"Deal," John announced, snapping the full suitcase shut.
–
John and Tin-Tin had left more than an hour or so ago. They were more than likely home by now. It was 11 p.m. Everyone was in bed.
Everyone except Tessa.
Armed with only slippers and a small flashlight that wasn't even on, she roamed the halls. Her mission was clear: sneak into Virgil's room without Penny or Parker noticing.
She desperately tried to remember the route to his room. All the doors seemed the same in this ridiculously huge mansion.
She reached the door she hoped was Virgil's. If it ended up being Penny's . . . well, she could always lie and say she got lost on her way to the bathroom. She creaked open the door . . .
. . . and was thankful to see Virgil sleeping in his bed. She grinned, and closed the door behind her. She walked up to his sleeping form and bent over to kiss him softly on the cheek. He stirred, but did not wake.
"Virgil . . ," she called softly. Nothing. "Virgil!" she whispered in a firmer voice.
That got him. When he saw her standing there, he sat up. "Tess? What's going on?" He thought for a moment. "Did you have that dream again?"
She shook her head. "No. I thought I'd prevent it instead of reacting to it." She leaned forward to kiss him, which he eagerly accepted. He got out of bed and stood up, letting the kiss deepen. When he finally pulled away, he smiled at her. With that, he ushered her into his bed.
He knew that if she slept in his bed, she wouldn't have those dreams. And she needed her sleep. The next few days would begin new nightmares for her.
–
"Welcome home, son!" Jeff called to his second-eldest as he entered the living room with Tin-Tin, having put away Thunderbird One. It was late in the evening and the family had settled down to spend it together, awaiting the arrival of Tin-Tin and John.
"It's good to be back where things are less pink," John joked.
Jeff rose to greet Tin-Tin. As he did so, John went over to the other side of the room where Scott stood with Lana. "Hey," he said, giving him a brotherly hug. Scott returned it and broke away. John hoped that things between them would start to be like they once were - friendly. Scott was his best friend, and he wanted someone to share his news of female companionship with.
But as he pulled away, John couldn't help but notice the tired look in Scott's eyes. Maybe the feeling was mutual.
–
Today was the day. Virgil looked lovingly at Tessa. She returned the look as they entered Maxwell Jewellers. Today was the day they intended to pick out their wedding rings. The previous day (their first day without John or Tin-Tin), they had picked out flowers and other various items. They'd also managed to find a minister, which was an enormous relief.
Maxwell's was a well-respected Jeweller in this particular area. The inside was decorated with wooden panelling, and many glass cases showed off various stones and pieces. Everyone in the store wore the same professional - but somehow elegant - vest and shirt combo. They had their hair all neatly done, as if this job paid the best they ever got. The owner himself greeted them. He liked to actually work at his business as opposed to sitting in the back doing paperwork. "Good morning," he greeted the couple with a genuine smile, "may I help you with anything today?"
Virgil grinned. "Yes, actually. We're here to pick out our wedding rings."
His smile broadened. "Oh, how lovely. Our display is over here." He escorted them to a gleaming glass case near the back.
Virgil and Tessa scanned the case. Before they got much of a chance to look at anything, the man had pulled out three pairs of rings and was asking them more questions. "Were you thinking of a silver band or a gold one?"
"Silver," Tessa replied. Two more pairs came out, and two went away.
"Were you thinking of a stone?"
Virgil fielded that one. "Yes." More rings came out, and a few went away.
"How about a setting? What were you thinking of?" "How about size?" "When's the wedding?" "May I see the engagement ring?" "Would you like the rings to match it?" "Have you thought about an engraving?" The questions flew out of the salesman's mouth almost faster than Virgil or Tessa could answer them.
Finally, they were left with a few choices on the counter. Virgil looked them over. None of them really suited his fancy. Some had incredibly small stones. Others looked . . . less than perfect. He looked over at Tessa. The owner was talking still, trying to point out many features of each ring. Tessa returned Virgil's gaze. The look in her eye told him that none of these suited her either.
The owner picked up on their silent discussion. He finished talking and looked up at them, as if to ask, "Well . . ?"
Virgil turned to his wife. "What do you think, Tess? See anything you like?" Tess knew he was just forcing her to give the man the bad news: they weren't going to purchase any of these and, no, they wouldn't be back when he had new ones in.
Tess decided to put her best acting into work. She sighed. "It's a really big decision . . . I'd much rather have some time to think it over before we get something that we're not going to be happy with."
"I agree," Virgil said, grinning at his wife, then the salesman. "We'll think it over."
"Alright," the man said, grinning at them.
They waved goodbye and left the store. And soon as the door closed behind them they burst into laughter.
"That guy was insane!"
"I think he takes the phrase 'customer service' a bit too seriously."
"Let's never go there again."
"No, let's not. Unless we're really bored."
They headed for the next store, a ways down the street. This one was more quiet, with an older sign posted above reading "London Jewellery." A bell tinkled above their heads as they entered the store, arms around each other's waist.
The place had a vintage feel. The wooden panelling was older, but still elegant. There was a woman in her late twenties or early thirties behind the counter. "Hello," she said simply, in a detached voice.
"Good morning," Tessa replied, looking around. Many of the pieces seemed to be one-of-a-kind. Some looked like something you would inherit when your rich grandmother died. None of this stuff looked brand new. Tessa didn't mind that as long as they weren't tarnished or anything.
"Do you sell wedding rings?" she asked the lady.
She shrugged her shoulders and threw her dyed-black hair behind her head. "'Might." She didn't even look at Virgil or Tessa.
Virgil shot Tessa a look that expressed his lack of hope for this place. He turned to the girl. "Do you know where they are usually?" She was chewing her lip, exposing the piercing in it.
She stopped chewing and stared at Virgil. "Look, we don't get wedding rings in, like, ever."
Virgil, still smiling at the girl, replied with, "Alright. Thank you anyway." He turned to his fiancé. "Let's go, honey."
She eagerly obliged. "Bye," she called to the girl, still trying to be friendly.
"What. Ever."
–
HoboJoe214: How are things in London?
MuffinTree37: Lonely. pouts I really wish you were here.
HoboJoe214: I'd love to join you, but I just can't. I'm in Scotland now. Work.
MuffinTree37: Yeah, I have to go back to work soon.
HoboJoe214: Yeah, but your work is fun.
MuffinTree37: rolleyes Everyone thinks that, but there's actually a lot of stress involved. There's a certain deadline we have to meet for each panel and if the subject isn't perfect in each one, there's hell to pay.
HoboJoe214: But you're a comic book artist! Every little kid's dream.
MuffinTree37: I know.
HoboJoe214: You get to draw superheroes all day long. And you're living your dream.
Pause
MuffinTree37: I suppose.
HoboJoe214: Is something wrong?
MuffinTree37: I love my job, really I do. But my dad really wants me to leave it so I can be with him more. 'There are comic books in London,' he says. 'I wasn't around much when you were growing up, and I want to make up for it.' I tell him that he's not even English! He was living in the States when my parents met, but somehow he doesn't understand why we should go back there.
HoboJoe214: So what are you going to do?
MuffinTree37: I don't know. I love the States . . . but I love my dad. And being in London would make me closer to you.
HoboJoe214: It wouldn't matter where you were, I'd still care about you. Don't worry about me.
–
Virgil and Tessa stood over yet another glass case. The store was a lesser-known chain, but it seemed to have some fairly good items. They were smiling and thinking that maybe this would be the place where they got the perfect rings.
A middle-aged woman with brown hair appeared behind the counter in front of them. "Welcome," she began in a friendly voice. "Is there anything in particular you're looking for today?"
Tessa beamed at the lady. "Yes, we're picking out our wedding rings."
The woman smiled. "Aww!" she cooed. "Have you found anything you like so far?"
"Not as of yet, but we're hopeful," Virgil said . . . mostly he was telling the truth. Personally, he was getting a bit discouraged.
"Well then," the woman started off her pitch, "let me help you out." She opened up the cabinet, and began to show off pieces.
The first ring had a large stone on it. "This piece is a beautiful one. The setting is in the shape of a flower, and the husband's comes with an inscription of your choice."
Tessa smiled and nodded, but in reality, she didn't want all that. She looked a Virgil and laughed slightly. "I think we were going for something a bit more modest."
The woman grinned. "I know what you mean." She winked at Tess and Virgil, as if she knew what was on their minds. Again, she went into the case. "Not many practical people go for that sort of thing. But this - this piece is probably more what you're looking for."
She placed a set on the counter next to the other one. This one, the rings were identical, but there was absolutely no stone. Wait, Virgil thought leaning in closer, there it is. He chuckled, "Maybe something with a slightly bigger stone."
The woman grinned, and pulled out one last pair. It was somewhere in-between the two. The husband's gleamed, with a perfectly matched band. The wife's had a stone on it that was almost the size they were looking for.
Tessa picked up the box they were in to look at them better. However, when she did the price tag dropped out. Virgil picked it up and happened to catch a glimpse. They want how much? The price seemed to match the first pair the best.
She also happened to catch a glimpse of the price. Virgil was rich, that was a fact. But she really didn't want to spend that much on a ring. Tess knew that if she told him she loved these he'd buy them in a heartbeat. But, to be honest, something about the ring put her off. The stone looks loose . . , she thought to herself.
Tessa gave the lady a sorrowful look. "I'm sorry. I just really don't think any of these are what we're looking for." Virgil nodded his head in agreement.
"Alright," the woman said. "We've placed a new order, so some more should come in on Tuesday."
"Oh, we'll be back," Virgil lied through his teeth. With a fake smile, he and Tessa left. If their hopes were dashed before, they were almost gone by now.
–
John couldn't sleep. His sleep patterns while in orbit differed from when he was on Earth. So now, had he been in space, he would have been up. This was why he couldn't sleep right now.
It was early in the morning - around four. He had two or three hours left until everyone else got up. Since he hated to lie in bed doing nothing, he decided to get something to drink. Maybe that would calm him down. If it didn't . . . well, he could always watch TV in his room or the living room.
As he walked down the hall, he noticed that the bathroom door was closed. Odd, he thought. Maybe someone had gotten up to use the bathroom. He nodded to himself. That was likely it. John continued on his way to the kitchen.
When he reached it, though, he found he was not alone. There was Scott, sitting in his boxers and tee. He was sitting at the table, leaning over a cup of coffee. His eyes were half shut and he looked as if he would fall into the coffee at any minute, asleep.
"Scott?" John asked. "You okay?"
Scott jolted upright. He blinked at him. His voice had that awkward pitch to it that you get when someone wakes you up abruptly. "John . . . hey. Couldn't coffee," he held up his cup, which was definitely not doing its job, "so I thought I'd get some sleep."
John grabbed a cup and poured some for himself. This could take awhile. "So, you couldn't sleep and thought you'd get some coffee?"
"Yeah," he said, waking up a bit more and taking a sip, "what did I say?"
John shook his head. "Nothing that made any sense. Not that getting a cup of coffee to help you sleep does either." He took a seat adjacent to Scott at the table.
Scott put his head - or, rather, his face - into his hand. "I know . . . but I'm not going to sleep, so I figured coffee would be good."
John sat his cup down. "What's really wrong?"
Scott groaned. "It's Lana."
"Is it . . . marital?" John asked, starting to wonder if he could even help.
"Nope," Scott said, very drowsily. "It's actually her. She's sick."
"That's not so bad," John replied optimistically, "She should get over it in like a week or so."
Scott shook his head. He sat up in his seat. "No, no, she's had this for, like, weeks. Dad thinks it's her 'adjusting to the tropical air' or something like that."
John looked at his older brother seriously. "I sense that you don't agree."
Scott leaned forward. "Can you keep a secret?"
John nodded.
Scott visibly gulped. "Lana told me what she thinks is happening to her . . . it's serious. Really serious. The worst part is, we're both pretty sure she's right . . . I mean, how could she not be? The only thing is, I've never been more scared of anything . . ."
–
This was it, they promised themselves.
This was the very last place they were going to stop to find their rings. The first guy had nothing the way they wanted, the second had nothing at all and those other places? Ugh. Take your pick of reasons.
"Maybe we're being too picky," Tessa suggested to Virgil.
Virgil shook his head. "Tess, almost all the places we've gone have either tried to sell us rings with no stone or ones that would put Paris Hilton to shame."
"Yeah, I know . . ," she replied, entering the opening in the mall, "but it feels like it shouldn't be this hard."
Virgil looked at his soon-to-be wife as they walked into the store. "I promise you: if this place has nothing we like, we go home and try again later."
She nodded, as they entered the store.
They were in there for about ten minutes. Everything was going great. The salesperson wasn't pushing them, nor were they leaving them entirely alone. They were looking over a few pieces, almost certain the perils of the day were winding to a close.
That's when Tessa just happened to look up. Oh, no . . . my luck couldn't be that bad! She elbowed Virgil to draw his attention. He too looked up and saw. Only he cursed under his breath.
There, clearly making her way towards them, was Mimosa Granger.
She grinned at Tessa and Virgil as her black heels clicked their way to where the pair were standing. "Hello, Tessa," she said in a sweet voice. She tossed her head back, sending a cascade of black wavy locks behind her head as she turned. "And you must be Virgil."
"You must be Mimosa," he said sarcastically. This was the first time Virgil got to meet the woman - and, yes, she acted like a woman as opposed to a girl - who had single-handedly destroyed the relationship Tessa had been building with her father. Mimosa was relatively short, to be honest. At her tallest, she stood maybe 5' 4", giving her sister the advantage of height. She was dressed in a cute black dress (fancy enough to wear to a club, but casual enough to stalk your sister and her fiancé in the mall), and clutched a black Chanel purse her left hand.
She drew her dark lips into a smile that matched Virgil's sarcasm. Having given him her response, she turned back to Tessa. "Daddy and I were wondering when you were going to give up this little scheme to get back at him, and come join us again." She smiled and blinked. What she lacked in size, she clearly made up for in attitude.
Tessa laughed briefly. "Well, you're rather blunt. But you're also terribly wrong. This isn't a 'scheme' to get back at your father or you. And I am not going to become involved in any sort of charade that involves The Hood. And what's this 'again' thing all about? As I recall, I only met you little over a month ago and it didn't go well."
Mimosa glanced for half a second or less at Tessa's hand, but Tessa still caught it. For a moment, she couldn't understand why she would look there. Then realization dawned on her. The Hood actually talks to her and tells her things vital to her health. Impressive.
Mimosa looked her straight in the eye. There was a dare in there, Tessa could see it. "Come on, Tessa. We both know you've just been spying on the Tracys. First you're 'shipwrecked' on their island. Next, you start dating Virgil - just as your father heads off to jail. No doubt you only did that to reassure Jeff and the rest that you were with them. Poor Virgil - you even accepted his proposal!" She paused to laugh. "Just admit you don't love Virgil Tracy and you've been playing him all along. Then things can go back to the way they once were."
Tessa stared at Mimosa for a moment, dead speechless. Part of her wanted to call her a liar and beat her face in. The other parts of her wanted to scream that she was a liar and beat her face in.
Instead, she did the one thing she knew would scare Mimosa more than anything. She gave a fierce look in her direction. Making sure Mimosa would see it, Tessa balled her right fist, though she had no intentions of hitting Mimosa. "Take that back," Tessa said darkly. Tessa could feel her eyes changing to their green slits - she could also feel her hand warming.
Mimosa's eyes darted to Tessa's hand. Clearly, even to Virgil, fear filled them. She stood up tall (well, tall for Mimosa) and looked at Tessa directly. "You have a problem with the truth?" she asked in a brave voice.
"Truth, I have no problem with," Tessa said, starting to raise her fist, "but the crap you're giving out? Yeah, I have a problem with that." She relaxed her hand, and used it to grab Virgil's arm. "Let's go, Virgil."
They turned away to leave. As they walked down the hall, they could hear Mimosa call, "Think about it."
Virgil turned to Tessa. She was so mad right then, you could almost see her shake. "Are you okay?" he asked. She shook her head, and he sat down with her on the closest bench.
She put her head in her hands. Tessa was close to tears. "Why Gordon would ever like her is beyond me . . . and if you stay with me after that little speech she gave, it'll be a miracle."
He placed his hand under her chin and lifted it up. "Look at me, Tessa," he demanded in a firm but gentle voice. "I would never believe a word that came out of that girl's mouth. Or your father's for that matter. I love you. I'm not going to leave you."
She smiled up at him and shifted closer. "I love you. I swear I would have never even agreed to see him after the kidnapping if I had known it would bring this upon us." Tess looked down again.
"It's okay," he reassured her with a smile, placing an arm around her shoulders. "I'm glad you had time to be with your father. I know he's not the greatest, but he's still family."
Tessa looked up at him, smiling. "How did I get lucky enough to have you?" she asked aloud. She didn't care who saw, then. She kissed him right there, in the middle of the mall.
When she broke away, Virgil smiled at her. "C'mon. Let's go home."
–
HoboJoe214: Hey, baby.
MuffinTree37: Oh . . . hey. I didn't see you on.
HoboJoe214: That's okay. How are you?
MuffinTree37: Let's cut the small-talk.
HoboJoe214: Uh, okay. Is something the matter?
MuffinTree37: Look, Gordon, we knew this couldn't go on forever like this, right?
HoboJoe214: What? Well, I guess.
MuffinTree37: I mean, even if you did love me back, how would this work out? You're always on some mission 'for the Queen'. Even if I happen to travel across the ocean, you can't find the time to see me.
HoboJoe214: Be fair, now. I had no idea you were coming and couldn't plan for it!
MuffinTree37: Oh, come on, you could have at least mentioned 'Hey, I'm going to Scotland!' in one of your messages!
HoboJoe214: I thought it wouldn't matter! You're in the States for crying out loud! It's not like you're going to walk over to my house one day for tea and find I'm not home and call the police!
MuffinTree37: Don't you get it? This isn't working! Our relationship is based on instant messaging, but we don't communicate! And, Gordon, I can't live off of IMs. Even if you were to tell me you loved me back, where would we live? With my messed-up family in London, where your job is? Where my messed-up life in the States is?
Long Pause
HoboJoe214: Please tell me you aren't saying what I think you are. Tell me I'm not losing you. I . . . I do love you.
MuffinTree37: I'm sorry, it's too late. Gordon, it's over. Let it go.
HoboJoe214: Please, don't -
MuffinTree37 HAS LOGGED OFF
–
"How are things coming along with the wedding?" Jeff asked Virgil, who was standing in his office area now. Jeff wanted to know all the details. He'd missed the first wedding one of his sons had - he didn't want to miss anything about the second.
It was getting late. Scott and Lana were standing on the balcony together. Scott's arm was visibly around Lana's waist. Her face was in her hands. She had been crying all night, but no one seemed to know why.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. Besides Scott, who wasn't saying anything, John (now challenging Brains to a game of chess in the corner) seemed oddly quiet. He didn't press for details like the others. And he seemed to have an odd air of empathy surrounding him. Gordon was in his room, the strum of his guitar a faint whisper from down the hall. The tune was a sad one, but for a reason he didn't seem willing to discuss. Jeff was pretty sure this was over Mimosa . . . he would have to give his son the "more fish in the sea" lecture the next time they were alone.
As for Tin-Tin and Tessa, both were in the latter's room. They were unpacking and talking about nothing of consequence.
Virgil sat in a chair nearby his father. He looked over at Jeff. "Well, we managed to get a minister and some flowers. The outfits are done, basically. So we've made pretty good progress." He gave a fake smile.
Jeff knew his sons too well for this. Something was bothering Virgil. "But . . . ?" he prompted, one of his eyebrows raised.
Virgil shrugged. "Shopping for rings was a nightmare. I know we've still got awhile but . . . it was horrible. The first place was pushy and there was nothing decent. The next place supposedly didn't even sell wedding rings . . . everything was over-priced or nothing like what we want. I don't know how much of that I could take."
Jeff nodded. He brought his hands close to his face, rubbing the fingers on his left hand with the thumb on his right. He looked directly at Virgil. "You do have lots of time, you know. You don't have to get the rings right now. You're pretty far ahead as it is with planning."
Virgil nodded. Thoughtful, he replied, "I just want to get something perfect. For Tessa."
The nod Jeff gave Virgil in response was vacant. He was staring out the window across from his desk. The sun was setting over the water, leaving a glow that was almost surreal. Jeff was lost in thought. His eyes seemed to be searching the waters for something.
He turned to his middle son and smiled at him. Jeff stood up from the desk and motioned for Virgil to do the same. "Come on, there's something I want to show you."
Virgil stood up, clueless to what his father was thinking. He followed Jeff from behind the desk. They headed down the hallway and were soon in his father's room.
It was a rarity that there was cause to go into Jeff's room. Jeff spent little time in there. Most of his time was spent tending to the Thunderbirds or sitting at his desk. Sometimes you could find him on the beach, wondering. But not often was he in his own room.
The room was dark green in colour, having been co-ordinated right down to curtains and bed sheets. Pictures hung on the walls and sat on most available surfaces. They were pictures of the boys growing up, the boys at their first jobs, wedding pictures Scott had given him, even a picture of Tessa and him that he'd received for father's day.
But a lot of the pictures were of Lucy, his diseased wife. Jeff hardly let anyone know, but he never had gotten over her. He had pictures of her around the room, with a large one beside his door. He still wore the ring she'd given him on their wedding day. Her death had haunted him for many years, driving him to create International Rescue in her honour . . . driving him to raise his children right.
Now was not the time to dwell on the past, however. Now was a time to think of the future, Jeff reminded himself.
He made his way over to the box sitting on the desk. The one Virgil had given him as a father's day present. He opened it.
–
Virgil couldn't see what his father was doing. The box he'd given him two months ago was now sitting open on the desk. He was sifting through various objects. He finally sat something down in front of the box and closed it. Virgil could not make out what it was.
Then he noticed Jeff pulling off the ring on his left hand. He placed it and the other object into his palm. With that, he turned around to face Virgil.
Jeff extended his palm to Virgil. "Are these anything like what you and Tessa were looking for?" In his hand were two wedding rings.
Virgil looked at them with a fixed stare. "Those are yours and mom's rings."
Jeff blinked. "Yes, they are. But that was not what I asked you." His tone was serious but in no way stern.
Virgil shook his head. His gaze shifted from the rings to his father and back again. "I . . . I can't accept these. I can't."
"Again," Jeff informed Virgil, "that was not the question given."
There was a pause, in which Virgil tried to fathom what was going on. "Yeah. Yeah, those . . . they're a lot like what we had in mind," he managed to stammer out.
Jeff took his son's hand, and placed them in it. "Take them." He let go of his son's hand after speaking.
Virgil stared at his father. He held up the ring with the stone in it. "This was mom's ring. She told you to take it when she died. You should be keeping it."
Jeff smiled. "She would have rather had it passed down than have me keep it forever." He pushed his son's extended hand back.
There was a long pause in which no one said anything. Finally, Virgil looked at his father. Closing his hand, he smiled, tears in his eyes . "Thanks, Dad. This means a lot to me and Tessa."
His father hugged him for a brief moment, then let him go to tell his fiancée the good news.
As Virgil left the room, he cast a final grateful and unbelieving look his father's way. He then closed the door, leaving his father alone.
Jeff sat down on the bed. He looked out the window, smiling. It was the start of a new chapter for the both of them. And it felt good.