Chapter 12

I stand in front of Mr. Tracy's desk. I'm nervous to say the least. "Mr. Tracy, may I go with Scott?"

Mr. Tracy raises his eyebrows. "What for, Tin-Tin?"

"Well, I just thought it would be nice to get out. I mean, I haven't seen Lady Penelope for a while, and I promised I'd lend her some books, and it would be nice to say hello, and Scott said he doesn't mind."

"What if there's an emergency en-route? Scott would need to divert."

I've thought of this already. "I am a member of International Rescue too, Mr. Tracy. I have my own uniform and everything. If Scott needed to divert I would assume my role as a fully fledged member of the team."

"I see," Mr. Tracy muses thoughtfully. "Well, I certainly can't argue with that. All right Tin-Tin, you can go. With Thunderbird 1's top speed you'll be back before long anyway. Just be mindful of Scott- if anything does happen, you do what he tells you to. Okay?"

Oh, I intend to Mr. Tracy, I intend to. I thank him profusely and run to my room to pack a bag.

I'm waiting in the kitchen with my bag packed when Alan comes in for some freshly squeezed lemonade. "I hear you're going with Scott," he says.

"Yes," I reply. "I thought it would be nice to go along for the ride."

"Scott doesn't normally take passengers."

"Well, today he's going to have two- me and Lady Penelope."

Alan shakes his blond head ruefully. "And it's not even his birthday."

Gordon is close behind Alan. "What's with the bag, Tin-Tin?"

"It's for her trip with Scott," says Alan.

"Scott won't let you take that."

"It's just a few things for Lady Penelope. I promised I'd lend her some books. And there's my uniform, in case an emergency happens en-route and Scott needs to divert."

Gordon doesn't look convinced. "What do you want to go for anyway? You won't see much, he's just going straight there and back. He won't want you tagging along."

"I'm not tagging along. He said I could go!"

Scott comes into the kitchen. "What's all the fuss?"

"I was just asking Tin-Tin why she wanted to go with you. All that way there and back, and you're not even stopping. What's the point?"

Scott goes to the fridge. He roots around inside and pulls out a box of chocolate éclairs. "Why shouldn't she go?" he shrugs, taking out one of the pastries. "She just wants to get out of the house." He puts the box back in the fridge, takes a huge bite of the éclair. Sometimes I wonder if he even tastes half the food he eats.

"But you're just going straight there and back."

"You've said that three times," I say crossly.

"Okay, fine," says Gordon. "I'm sorry."

Scott finishes his éclair and looks at his watch. "Eleven o'clock," he muses. "Come on, Tin-Tin. It's time you and I got moving."

With my cheeks burning I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder. I'm glad to get out of the kitchen. I hurry after Scott through the lounge to the wall panel with the two light fixtures attached. "Okay, dad. We're ready."

"All right, Scott. I'll tell Penny you're both on your way."

Scott places his back against the wall. He holds out his hand for me to join him. I stand with my back to him, clutching my bag tightly against my chest. He reaches for the light fixtures and activates the wall panel switch. The panel swivels, taking us around to the other side into Thunderbird 1's hangar, where the moving gantry that carries Scott to the cockpit is waiting.

"You okay?" he asks, placing his hand on my shoulder. I nod silently. "Wait here just a moment then. I need to get changed. You know, put my uniform on."

Am I making a big mistake? I'm a bundle of nerves as I stand there waiting. Alan must suspect something.

In moments Scott is at the hatch, calling me over. He has changed into his uniform, minus the hat, which he says he won't wear until he needs to because it makes his head itch. I clamber into the cockpit. "Put your bag in the locker," he instructs. "I don't want stuff flying around." He climbs up into the pilot's seat while I make sure my bag is secure and shut the locker tightly.

The so-called passenger seats in Thunderbird 1 are small and basic. I climb onto one and buckle myself in. Scott leans over and looks down at me. "All set?"

"All set, Scott," I confirm.

He begins flicking switches on his console. The great rocket shudders awake and begins rolling down towards her launch pad beneath the swimming pool. I am scared and excited all at once. There are a million butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I can't go back now.

We come to an eventual stop. Mr. Tracy comes through on the intercom. "You're cleared for takeoff, Scott."

"F.A.B, dad."

For once I am not watching longingly out of the window as Thunderbird 1 launches. Her massive engines roar into life beneath us, her boosters whining. Such is her design that it feels almost as if we are not moving at all, but I can feel the power of her as we lift through the pool and into the sky. When I look up at the screen in front of Scott I can see that Tracy Island is already dwindling fast below us, a small green speck in a vast sparkling sea. In another few moments we begin levelling out, and soon we are on a horizontal trajectory and speeding on our way.

I sit quietly. I daren't move or do a thing until Scott tells me to. He's checking his instruments, adjusting dials, scrutinizing the altometer. I sit and wait for him to make his move. Finally he leans over and looks down.

"Asleep yet?"

"I thought you'd forgotten about me," I say nervously.

"I'm afraid there's not much in the way of in-flight entertainment," he smiles. "Unless you want to come up here and sit with the pilot." He extends his hand towards me.

My fingers are shaking as I unbuckle my safety belt. I climb out of my seat, take hold of his hand and climb up to his. He is breathtakingly handsome sitting there in his uniform- the blue of it brings out the colour of his eyes. He takes me in his arms and settles me facing forward on his lap. He tells me to slide my hands under his on each of the control sticks attached to the armrests. His face is next to mine, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Ready?" he murmurs.

"For what?" I whisper.

He pulls back on the controls and sends Thunderbird 1 screaming skywards. The force of the lift presses me back against him. Dials spin and lights start flashing. I can hear someone screaming in unison with the magnificent machine, and then realise it's me. I watch the Earth dropping away beneath us, and see the dark, forbidding stratosphere looming above. We fly on this trajectory for a few more moments and then Scott eases the controls forward and levels us off. The curvature of the Earth is on the screen in front of us. Sunlight gleams on distant oceans.

"I never get tired of looking at it," he says softly.

"It is beautiful," I agree.

He nuzzles the side of my neck. "We're three miles high," he informs me. "We could join the Three Mile High Club."

I sigh with pleasure. "And this club would consist of you and how many other members?"

He laughs against my skin. "What exactly do you think I get up to in this thing?" He removes one of his hands from mine, strokes my forearm. He instructs me to keep my hands steady on the controls.

"I can't, Scott," I protest. "I don't know how to fly this thing."

"Just keep hold of those," he says. "You're doing fine." He takes his other hand away. I grip the controls for dear life. Thunderbird 1 shudders.

"Scott!"

"Relax. She's tougher than you think."

I bite my lip. I can hardly breathe. I haven't blinked for about five minutes. "Am I really flying this?" My voice is trembling.

"Yes you are."

"Oh my God. Oh! My! God! I'm flying Thunderbird 1!" I let out a whoop of delight. "I'm flying Thunderbird 1! Tin-Tin Kyrano is flying Thunderbird 1!"

"And doing a pretty good job of it, too."

"Oh, Scott, this is wonderful! I'm actually flying Thunderbird 1!"

"Okay, honey..don't get overexcited, just keep her steady. That's it."

I'm concentrating so hard it takes a moment for me to realise what he's doing. He has slipped his hands under my blouse.

"Scott!" I'm scared to take my eyes off the screen in front of me. "What are you...?"

"Sssh, Tin-Tin, it's okay. You're doing fine." His hands are warm on my stomach. I gasp with a mixture of pleasure and sheer fright. He moves my hair aside and pulls the neck of my blouse away from my shoulder. He kisses me there. My hands are shaking on the controls. He brushes the swell of my breast. My pulse is racing. My breath comes out in sharp, shallow gasps. How can I keep this 'bird steady when he's doing what he's doing to me?

He kisses me just below the ear, then takes my earlobe gently between his teeth. He runs his hand along my denim-clad thigh. "Let go," he whispers.

Of what? Thunderbird 1? Or of myself?

He prises my fingers off the controls.

"Scott! Stop! What are you doing? We'll crash!"

"We won't crash," he laughs gently. "I put her on cruise control."

"What?" I'm flabbergasted. "When? You mean, I wasn't really flying us after all?"

"Relax," he smiles. "Up until a few moments ago you really were flying."

I want to hit him. "You had me believing that if I let go, we'd..Oh!" I puff indignantly. I punch him in the chest. "Scott Tracy, you really are the limit!" I glare at him, but it's hard to stay cross when I'm sitting in his lap and he's flashing those gorgeous dimples. To be honest, if we'd plummeted to earth and exploded in the biggest fireball it wouldn't have mattered so long as I was with him.

I relent. It wasn't difficult. I wriggle sideways in his lap, hanging my legs over the armrest. "You're lucky that I'm such a forgiving person," I tell him.

"And you're lucky that I didn't open that hatch and put you outside."

His tone sends a shiver of delight down my spine. "You wouldn't dare," I cajole. I run my fingers through his hair, trace his jaw line, run my fingertip over his chin. I pull him close and kiss him. He laughs deep down in his throat. I swear I start purring like a kitten. "This all feels so unreal," I say when at last our lips part.

"Funny you should say that. I was about to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming."

"I wouldn't have had you down as a dreamer," I tease him gently, although he is looking quite dreamy at the moment.

"Everybody's got at least one secret," he replies, lowering his eyelashes.

"Well, in that case," I press closer, "you must be mine."

He begins nuzzling me, finding places on my face and neck that I never knew existed. Who would have thought there would be a million nerve endings in the tip of my left ear alone! I tilt my head back and sigh as he trails a series of small kisses down my throat. I bury my lips in his hair, breathing in his warm, masculine scent. He bites my neck gently. He strokes my stomach, which contracts at his touch. He whispers my name in my ear. He calls me honey, and sweetheart, and angel. He whispers that I'm beautiful. He murmurs words that I can't make out. He sends me dizzy with longing.

Dear God, there ought to be a law against men like him!

He pulls me close and I curl up against him. I can feel his heart beating in his chest. I hold him and stroke his hair. His hot breath scorches my neck. "So what happens now?" I ask quietly.

His lips brush my cheek. "That's a good question."

I kiss him deeply. His hand moves over my hip and his fingers slip into the back pocket of my jeans.

"I just want to be with you," I murmur.

He looks at me with his steady blue eyes. I am sure he can see straight down into my heart.

"You're with me now, aren't you?"

"I mean..." I look away. "You know what I mean."

He moves the hair out of my eyes, turns my face back towards him. This time his kiss is gentle, soothing. "Don't worry Tin-Tin," he smiles. "We'll work something out. Trust me."

Trust me. They are easy words to say, but they are not easy to mean. Trusting the wrong people can be fatal. Trusting the right ones can be our salvation.

Trusting Scott Tracy could turn out to be a little bit of both.

He holds me tight. I close my eyes and bury my face in his hair. We sit like that for a while in silence in the pilot's seat of Thunderbird 1 as she races through the sky at 15000 mph, holding onto us both.