Thought it was time to start posting another as the muse is currently playing.

Enjoy!

Scott shivered, zipping his coat further up as he stepped out of the car. The frigid temperatures slammed into him, but he tried to control his reaction.

"Friggin' hell!" Gordon didn't have the same restraint.

"What do you expect?" John joined them. "You've been in a heated car for an hour."

Gordon grumbled something under his breath, zipping his own coat, hands in his pockets, as he jumped on the spot.

John rolled his eyes, although it was barely visible with his hat tugged down and scarf pulled up. He seemed to take the cold weather in his stride. Scott wished he'd followed suit: he couldn't feel his ears.

"John?"

John looked over, and Scott nodded towards the driver. John headed over, speaking rapid French as he leant in at the window. Hiding a smirk, Scott turned to the trunk. John wanted to practice his languages, but it also meant Scott didn't have to stumble his way through the conversation.

Virgil fell into step with him. Scott offered a grateful smile, glad someone was giving him a hand. Gordon was still cursing and jumping.

He popped the lid, stepping back as Virgil dived in first.

But his brother didn't go for the top bag. Instead, he grabbed the handle of his own – from the bottom of the pile – and proceeded to try to drag it out, huffing and swearing as he did so. Scott was glad only the cab driver was around to hear them, given both Virgil and Gordon's language since arriving.

Virgil finally pulled his bag free, dropping it to the ground and looking at Scott.

"Could've helped," he panted.

Scott laughed. "Or you could've waited five seconds and helped me shift the ones on top."

Virgil stared at him. His hat was almost as low as John's, but Scott still saw the flush spreading across his cheeks.

Shaking his head, Scott hauled out the top bag and glanced around.

"Al?"

Alan was standing at the side of the road. He stared wistfully back the way they'd come, hands deep in his pockets.

"Alan!"

As his brother turned, Scott chucked the bag at him. Alan missed, the bag hitting him in the stomach. He let out an 'oof' even as it hit the ground.

"What was that for?" he demanded.

"Looking lovesick," Scott smirked.

"I'm not."

"Staring won't make the car appear any faster," Scott said. He turned back to what he was doing, seeing John straighten out of his peripheral vision.

"I just don't get why I couldn't have gone with Tin-Tin," Alan grumbled.

Gordon was listening. None of them were sympathetic when Alan moaned about not having enough time with Tin-Tin: he didn't know how lucky he was. But Gordon had been sitting with the couple on the flight. No doubt he'd already had enough. Scott didn't trust the glint in his brother's eye. It would be good to get to the chateaux before the arguments started.

"With Dad, Grandma, Brains and Kyrano," Virgil said. "Sounds romantic."

"Better than you lot," Alan grumbled. He picked up his bag and stalked a few steps down the road. But there was nowhere to go and their father had all the keys to their accommodation. Given the cold temperature, Alan wasn't the only one wishing the second car would appear.

Scott grabbed the next bag. "Gords?"

Unlike Alan, Gordon was ready. As Scott tossed the duffel, Gordon snatched it from mid-air, using the momentum to swing it over his shoulder in a casual movement. Scott grinned. Despite Gordon looking relaxed, there was something in his stance that screamed military. It wasn't as simple as leaving – or, in Gordon's case, healing – to undo hours of drills.

He pulled the last two bags out – almost dropping John's because of the surprising weight – and shut the trunk. John appeared next to him as the engine started. The driver performed a well-practiced turn and disappeared back the way they'd come, leaving five Tracy brothers standing in the freezing cold.

"Some view, huh?" John said, taking his bag. He handled it as easily as Gordon, paying no attention to the weight.

Scott nodded. An impressive mountain range rose in front of them, glistening snow against the clear blue skies. It was breathtaking. Scott looked around, then nudged John, grinning.

They weren't the only one to have noticed the view. Virgil's bag was on the ground, open, as he rummaged inside, muttering to himself. He pulled free a sketchpad and pencil, pulling off his gloves with his teeth. Ignoring his brothers, Virgil sat down on his bag, gaze fixed on the view and hand already moving.

"He realises he can't stay there until he's finished?" John asked. Virgil was sitting in the middle of the road, apparently oblivious.

Scott clapped John on the shoulder. "You can tell him."

John looked alarmed by the idea.

"Wish Dad would hurry up," Scott muttered, keeping his voice too low for Alan to hear.

But his brother wasn't paying him any attention. He had forgotten his sulk: he and Gordon were making snowballs.

Scott looked in concern at Virgil, presenting an easy target with his back to them. Now he really wanted his father to arrive. This was his vacation too, and he didn't intend to spend it keeping the peace between his siblings.

"Lady Penelope offered to send Parker in FAB1," John said. His bag was at his feet and he'd lowered his scarf enough for Scott to hear him properly. His breath steamed in the freezing air, but he looked more relaxed than Scott had seen him in months. "But no one saw the point. It'd be faster, but a long drive for him just to drop us off."

"She wants to feel useful," Scott said. Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward was their new – and only – agent for their operation, but there wasn't any agent-ing to be done yet.

"Don't we all," John muttered.

"Hence-," Scott gestured at the scenery in front of them.

They'd all pulled out from their respective careers over the last few months. Gordon was cleared, but had exercises and follow-up appointments to come. The operatives of International Rescue were ready – but their Thunderbirds were still at various points in production.

Two weeks of sitting on the island meant tempers were fraying, and it had been a welcome announcement when their dad declared they were going to test the cold weather gear in real-life cold weather.

"Listen," John said.

Scott did so. A purring engine was audible. Gordon and Alan abandoned their snowball fight, although the former's hair was dripping while Alan's back was soaked. Scott chuckled.

"Grandma won't be happy," he told them cheerfully. Their grandmother had a thing about wet clothes and cold weather.

Gordon yanked his hat back on. "Only if she finds out."

While Alan tried to see his own back to assess the damage, Scott looked at Virgil. He hadn't reacted to the car. Scott moved behind his brother, pulling out his cell and glancing down. Once he confirmed what Virgil was sketching, he lined up the shot and took a few snaps. He tried to send them on, but frowned.

"You got a signal?" he asked John.

His brother pulled out his own cell. Scott didn't understand the upgrades John had put into his phone, but if anyone was going to have a signal up here, it was John. But he, too, shook his head, looking worried.

"Don't worry," Scott said. "Brains will come up with something."

"He better."

Scott tried not to laugh. John hated being away from a signal of any sort, although he figured given his brother's upcoming role, it wouldn't happen very often from now on.

But the car came into view, then stopped, before anything more was said. Four of them hurried forward: Virgil remained sitting where he was. Scott helped his grandmother out of the back.

"Thank you, dear," she said. "These hips can't take sitting down the way they used to."

"We're here," Scott said. He pointed at the buildings a little further up the road. If he was stiff from the long journey, he couldn't imagine how uncomfortable she had been.

John approached the driver again.

"He wants to practice," Scott said in response to his grandmother's confused look. She patted his arm.

"Go help your father," she ordered. Scott knew better than to disobey.

He wasn't the only one. Gordon joined him as they unloaded. It wasn't only clothes, sketchpads and whatever John had hidden away this time. They'd all brought their own skis and – in Virgil's case – a snowboard.

It was a vacation, sure, but they also had testing to do. They couldn't risk damaging hire equipment, unwelcome questions, or any trace of what they were doing left behind.

Gordon nudged him. "You'd think he moved the mountains into position just for her," he murmured.

Scott looked around. Alan had his arm around Tin-Tin, showing her the view. Kyrano stood a few feet away, a small frown on his face, gaze on his daughter. Scott pointed it out to Gordon, and they hastily turned away to hide their grins.

John finished talking to the driver, and the car disappeared as smoothly as the previous one had.

Seven Tracys, two Kyranos, and Brains all stared for a moment at the mountain in front of them. It was silent.

"There's civilisation up here, right?" Gordon asked.

"Yes." Their father bent down to pick up a bag. "We got more space being on the outskirts, but there's a village just a short wa-," He suddenly trailed off, frowning.

"Why is Virgil sitting in the middle of the road?"

"Drawing." Scott, John and Gordon all spoke at once. Virgil hadn't looked up since the others arrived.

"Grab bags and start walking," the man instructed. He moved towards Virgil. Scott saw John breathe a sigh of relief that he was off duty of having to tell their brother to move.

It was an uneventful walk to the chateaus. They were well laden, but it was no accident that Gordon had somehow ended up with only his own bag and supporting their grandmother. She wasn't the only one struggling after the long journey.

Scott, Virgil and their dad took the heavier equipment, while the others shared out the bags. Even Alan took more than his own without protest, although that was due to Tin-Tin watching him while doing her own share without complaint.

They also avoided arguments over sleeping arrangements. The three lodges of various sizes decided for them. The Tracy brothers took one, the Kyranos another, while their dad, grandmother and Brains had the third.

Again, Alan looked prepared to sulk until Tin-Tin whispered something in his ear that made his eyes light up. Scott felt suspicious until he figured he was off big brother duty while on vacation. The others could do what they wanted.

The building was inviting. A dark cherry wood made it seem warm, good lighting welcomed them in and there was plenty of space for five brothers without tripping over each other.

Scott found his room – or, rather, one that his more boisterous brothers hadn't claimed – and dumped his bag on the bed. Sitting down, he felt lethargy wash over him and he toppled backwards, staring at the ceiling. It had been a long journey. Scott wondered if anyone would notice if he shut his eyes for a few moments…

Bang!

A door slamming further down the hallway put a stop to that. Voices were coming from somewhere. The noise wouldn't let him rest, but Scott also didn't want to miss out. He followed both the sound and his nose: the smell of coffee drew him closer and he found himself in the kitchen. Virgil had dug into the supplies already. Coffee was brewing and there was a bag of chips in front of his brother.

Scott grabbed a handful, getting an elbow to the ribs for his efforts.

"Get your own."

"Yours are closer."

Virgil glared at him. Scott pulled out his cell, opened the images he'd snapped, and slid it across. Virgil's scowl disappeared, and he pushed the bag to the centre, now prepared to share.

"I'll send them over," Scott said, not intending to leave his phone with his brother for the entire vacation. "Once I've got a signal."

John and Gordon walked in, heading for the fridge. While Gordon grabbed a sparkling water, John took a third mug down and headed for the coffeepot. Scott realised Virgil already had two lined up and shot his brother a grateful smile. Virgil winked, but didn't say anything. It was never a question if Scott wanted coffee.

"I'm glad Dad got someone to stock up before we got here," Gordon said. He snapped the lid off the bottle and took a long drink. "Imagine if we had to wait for Grandma before we could even get a snack?"

"Or having to cope with Scott's cooking?" John added.

"Hey!" As all three of his brothers shuddered, Scott laughed. "I'm not that bad."

"No," John said. "Actually, your pizzas are perfect."

"So are your fries," Gordon added.

"Work really well together as well," Virgil said through a mouthful.

"But having it Monday through Friday," John continued.

"And again at the weekend," Virgil said.

"Just get the urge for something different," Gordon finished. All three of them had identical grins on their faces.

"Fine, fine." Scott rolled his eyes as he slipped off his stool, checked the coffee, and filled the three mugs. He wondered why he made the effort to pass them to his brothers, though, after that show of support.

"Admit it," Virgil said as he reached for the milk. "Cooking isn't your strong point."

"I admit nothing," Scott said. He sat back down, cradling his mug.

"You are allowed to have something you're not perfect at," Gordon said. He'd already turned his attention to John though, and missed Scott's glare.

"Why do you have a black ski suit?"

"Why are you going through my things?"

"Why is it black?" Gordon pressed. Scott and Virgil shared a glance. They'd all seen the monstrosity of colour that Gordon had picked.

"Why shouldn't it be?" John asked, eyebrow raised as he sipped his drink.

"Cos it's black," Gordon said. He sounded offended by the very thought.

"Which makes it easier to spot against snow if you get into trouble," John said.

"Planning on getting into trouble, then?" Gordon was fishing, and they all knew it. John had been quiet about how he felt hitting the slopes since their father had announced a skiing trip.

But he didn't rise to the bait. Instead, John stood up, still holding his mug, and winked at Gordon.

"Only if I'm caught."

While Gordon's jaw dropped, John glanced out the window.

"I'm going to talk to Brains," he announced, walking away.

Scott watched him go, then burst out laughing at the look on Gordon's face. He was staring at the door, as if wondering who'd just walked out of it.

"Who is he?" Gordon asked, turning back to Scott and Virgil. "And what's he done with our brother?"

Alan's arrival prevented Scott from having to point out John wasn't always the studious good boy they took for granted.

"C'mon!" Alan exclaimed. "Let's hit the slopes."

His excitement made him look five years younger, and Scott smiled fondly. Gordon finished his drink and tossed the bottle.

"Last one to Dad is on washing up!"

They both charged out of the kitchen, acting like children, and the entire building shook as the front door slammed.

"He realises there's a dishwasher?" Virgil's amused tone made Scott glance over. His brother hadn't moved.

"Thought you'd be joining them?"

Virgil was looking forward to taking his new snowboard out – he'd been talking about it for days.

But his brother shook his head. "I'm beat," he admitted. "Think I'll crash. Can I keep this?" he motioned to Scott's cell.

"That kind of crash," Scott said with a grin. Virgil didn't intend on having a nap, not when he had a picture he wanted to finish. But he nodded his permission, and Virgil picked up his phone. He stepped towards the door, then stopped.

"Aren't you going out with them?" He asked.

Scott held up his mug in answer. Virgil grinned and disappeared. They all knew caffeine came first for him. He didn't need another excuse.

He finished, grinning as he slipped the mug into the dishwasher, half tempted to leave it out for the youngest two. He grabbed his coat and a hat before knocking lightly on Virgil's door. There was no answer, but Scott pushed it open anyway.

Virgil had his earphones in, lying on his stomach on his bed, his sketchbook open and Scott's phone propped up in front of him. Scott smiled and backed out.

He scrawled his brother a note and left it in the kitchen. This was a vacation for all of them, after all, and once they were operational, who knew when Virgil would have the chance to sit and draw?

Being braced for the cold didn't make it any more pleasant, and Scott hurried between the buildings. Stamping the snow from his shoes, he was grateful to get into the warmth. Moving through in just his socks, Scott peeled off other layers and found John deep in discussion with Brains. He was turning something over in his hands, and curious, Scott went to join them. Before he could do so, his dad appeared.

"Drink?"

There was a whisky in hand. Scott grinned and helped himself to a beer. Glancing out of the window, he was surprised to see all their skis lined up.

"I thought Gordon and Alan had gone to the slopes."

"Too late in the day." His dad had followed him through. "There's not much daylight left. Besides, it's better if we all go up together, scope out meeting places and all that."

"It's a vacation, Dad, not a mission." Scott found an armchair, sank into it and dragging a stool around so he could put his feet up.

"You want to let them up there with the excuse they don't know where to meet us?"

Scott laughed. Sometimes he forgot his dad knew his brothers just as well as he did. He didn't like to think the man knew him that well, too.

"Where are they?"

A thud rattled the closest window, giving Scott his answer.

"You'd think they'd never seen snow before." Kansas had its fair share over the years.

His dad just smirked, sitting down himself. Scott flushed, but used both the warmth and his two sips of beer as an excuse. It was better than admitting it wouldn't be long before he was joining in the snowball fight.

"Could be the last time for a while," Jeff said. "We're not going to get this type of weather."

"Until we're called into it." As always when talking about their future, Scott grinned. He couldn't wait for operations to start up! Maybe he was no better than his younger brothers, after all.

Conversation flowed easily. When Gordon and Alan were sent to change into dry clothes, Virgil returned with them. He looked relaxed, despite complaining about a crick in his neck.

It was the best evening Scott had had for a while. Their grandmother tried to stop business talk at the dinner table, but even she couldn't hide her pride as they discussed their future. Brains only attempted to escape once before he too joined in the conversation, growing more animated as they talked about his designs.

The Kyranos didn't linger after dinner and their grandmother disappeared up to bed, Brains retiring at the same time. The rest of the Tracys lingered, sprawled around the small fire in various positions, as the conversation continued.

Scott had to nudge Virgil awake, and John half-supported, half-dragged Alan back when it was time to go.

As he pulled the warm covers over himself, Scott smiled in the darkness. It was going to be a good trip. If he could keep his secret hidden.