This one should really have been called "18-B", because it's so short, but I had that one last scene in my head, before heading back to real life. Thanks for reviewing, Bow Echo and Creative Girl! =)

19

Thunderbird 3, fighting a powerful, cyclonic storm, over the northern Pacific-

Into each life, a little rescue must fall… or some crap like that. Alan Tracy had wanted to focus on Piper; only the coolest, most amazing, adorable girl in the whole frickin' world… but, y'know, work. Back to the salt mines, because his brothers kept dropping the ball.

Scott had gone for a deep-water swim, Gordon's ride was, like, trashed, John was headed west with Grabby McGrabberson, and Thunderbird 2 was all bouncing around in the storm like a nuclear yo-yo. So, yeah… time to go make some of that patented Alan T. magic. And, with Piper along, he figured on being extra heroic. Bold and manly, and junk.

Sure, fuel was a thing, but he'd been in worse trouble, before. Like, for reals, this was nothing. It was his (maybe, possibly, fingers-crossed) girlfriend that mattered. Keeping half an eye on the ocean, half an ear on the chatter, Alan switched comm settings to say,

"So, um… I'm going over to help Virge reel in that pod. Wanna come? We, uh… might need a hand. I mean, if you want to pitch in saving Scott, or something."

Piper's cute face popped up on his comm screen. Her Bird didn't have holo-tech, or any grappling arms, now. (Being designed by Langstrom Fischler and built by a frickin' toy shop, she was lucky the stupid thing had seats or an engine.)

He'd have been nervous about her answer, but then Piper smiled at him, in that way that made her whole face glow (and his, too, guessing by how warm his cheeks got). Blowing a strand of purple hair out of her eyes with one huffy breath, she said,

"I'm up for it. Lead the way, Alan of Awesomeness!"

Whoa. That was, like, a title. Like he'd scored major points on the Pip Austin leader-board. Alan grinned, wasting fuel he didn't have on a sudden, tight barrel roll.

"Follow me, Pips. The fun's over here!"

Maybe everyone else hated this rescue. Alan was having a blast, riding wind gusts and updrafts like a dang seagull; feeling rain on his hull like a sweeping caress. Only, he watched over the girl… his girl… to be sure that she managed okay, in that rattle-trap Bird of hers.

But Piper was more than okay. She arrowed her bright-orange rocket close in beside his, following Al's every move like they were two schooling fish; swooping birds; leaping dolphins. Alan laughed out loud as they darted and wove in flight. Sure, he knew there was danger, but he didn't believe in it. Not for him or Piper, here and now. Life was too good to accept any shadows. Not even the frickin' Mechanic, or Dad, with a gun.

They were almost on top of Thunderbird 2, before Alan spotted his target. And, yeah… Virgil was having real problems. The big, hollow cargo-lifter hovered nose down, having only managed to lock up her pod with three cables. The other one coiled and flapped in the wind like a torn, streaming flag, or an air-snake.

Pod 4 hung twisting and swaying below her, shaking Scott right out of his wits, if he was even still conscious. All that Alan picked up was occasional grunting. No rolling sounds, though, so at least his brother 'd gotten a chance to strap in and hold on. Those three lone cables were starting to shudder and fray, though, looking ready to snap like guitar strings.

"That's not good," said Piper, all at once deadly serious. "What's the plan, A-T?"

Good question.

"Um, okay… we gotta stabilize that thing, before it tears lose, or pulls Virgil right into the ocean."

Because Thunderbird 2 was low on fuel, and losing her battle to reel up that wind-battered pod. The system hadn't been designed to be used in conditions this whacked. But Virgil wouldn't let go, because, duh… Scott was inside.

Alan's sky-blue eyes narrowed, and his mouth hardened to a straight, rigid line. All of a sudden, he wasn't a skinny blond kid with big ears and an uncertain voice, anymore. He was a professional rescue-jock, with someone to save, and somebody else to lead and protect.

In the constant flare of wild lighting, Pod 4 gleamed as wet and green as an algae-scummed rock, swaying up there where no rock ought to be, hanging on three fraying threads. Bad situation. Alan throttled forward, murmuring,

"Follow my lead, Pip. You don't have grabbing arms, anymore, but if your force shield's got any juice left, see if you can set us up a wind-break, okay?"

Over the comm, she nodded vigorously, flopping amethyst hair back into her dark-blue eyes.

"I'm on it, A-T. Be safe, and don't do anything that'll screw up our next date."

Next date? As in, def more than one? He was getting a genuine, planned-for date? She hadn't been kidding, back on the rig? Something hot and amazing shot through Al, at those beautiful words. Could've stepped over mountains, and hefted pod 4, single-handed.

Grinning like an idiot, Alan lanced through the clouds and the rain squalls, till he reached his struggling teammate.

"Hey, Bro!" he called up to Thunderbird 2. "Need a hand?"

"Need about fifty," his older brother admitted. "She's getting away from me."

Alan nodded.

"Piper's gonna use her force shield to patch up a wind-break, Virgil. I'll ease in and grab the pod with my grappling arms..."

"And we'll get up under, like this here," came a sudden new voice. Uncle Lee's. Looking around, Alan saw Thunderbird Prototype slide from the streaming dark clouds to one side; big, flat and sliver. Saw a tiny figure wave at him through the Bird's windows. Brains, he guessed, because,

"If you c- can hold the, ah… the p- pod steady, Alan, we will approach f- from below, and push upward, while Thunderbird 3.2…"

"…And 2.2," said somebody else (that Josh guy, from Piper's crew). "We can help, too, Sir, if you'll just tell us what to do."

"He doesn't trust me," quipped Gordon, over the same comm.

"Yes, I do! It's just… they're older. No offense, but…"

"They've got PTSD and dementia," said Gordon. "Especially Scott. Still thinks he's in charge, though."

Alan chuckled, but didn't say anything, because Scott might could hear them, and would absolutely get even. By this time, the prototype had glided her way beneath that raggedly spinning and swaying green pod. Bigger than Thunderbird 2, the silver transport ship moved like a swan, nudging upward to bump, and then raise, pod 4.

Alan came close, and extended two of his Bird's long, white grappling arms, delicately stabilizing the tilted steel-alloy container. He took hold of its upper rim, just above the large, white-painted '4'.

A faint, greenish bubble had sprung up around them, cutting off wind and the worst of that rain. That was Piper, doing her thing, as Thunderbird 2 began once more hauling in cable. 2.2 stood by, magnetic grappling cannons locked on and ready, just in case.

Except that, for once, everything went right; as if the dark cloud of bad luck and gremlin-poop hanging over them had decided to go devil somebody else for a while. Alan hung on to the pod with his grappling arms, being yanked around like a thin guy with a very big and excited square-dancing partner. Biting his lip, he rose with the pod and Thunderbird P, yard by cautious yard; keeping that big, nearly empty container as still as he could.

The prototype and Thunderbird 2 did most of the real heavy lifting, but everyone worked as a team, whatever they flew, or wherever they'd started from. Seemed like forever, but really took only five minutes to get the pod up in her cradle, and finally locked down.

The loud, ringing snap of those clamps made everyone cheer, and hug whoever was next to them. (Okay, Virgil hugged Kayo, but Lee settled for high-fiving Brains, while Gordon, Caleb and Josh just fist-bumped. John wanted nothing at all from Kat but "goodbye"… and Alan had to be happy with pressing his hand to the comm screen, as Pip did the same thing, on her end. As for Scott, he managed not to throw up, again.)

All the civilians cheered and back-slapped, in both giant Birds, as did folks back home, when the news trickled in. Alan gave 3 a touch of reverse-thrust, folding her grappling arms back into place as he went.

The long red Bird slid back beside Piper's. Soon, it would be time to go home and face whatever was coming to them, for breaking arrest. But first, Alan hit his comm once more, just to get Piper onscreen.

"So…?" he asked, halfway holding his breath. "We still on for… whenever, whatever you like?"

All at once shy, again, Piper ducked behind a swaying curtain of amethyst hair. Then, in a rushed, quiet voice, she said,

"Sure, if you want to. Skate park, maybe? Or pizza at the beach… after all of the crazy wraps up."

Alan snorted.

"Yours can't be as weird as mine!" he insisted.

"Wanna bet?" she challenged. "I got Caleb on my team. He's like Gordon, plus twenty-thousand!"

"Yeah? Well, we've got John, who's, like Captain Asocial Hacker-dude. If he wasn't all the time rescuing people, he'd take over the world, with his mighty computer wife!"

Piper grinned at him.

"Obs, you've never met Cody, and… Well, you don't know that much about me," she finished, more quiet than ever before.

Alan took a deep breath, seeing nothing but Piper.

"I'd like to," he said to her, meaning it.