SON OF JOHN PAWS by BOOMERCAT RATED FRPT

The morning after Cloud Of Doom.

Author's Notes: This is a wrap up of Cloud Of Doom (which was nicknamed "John Paws" during the writing process) and you'll probably want to read it first. Many thanks to Sam and Lynn, as usual!

"John! Wake up, man, you gotta come see this!"

John Tracy pulled the pillow up over his head, mumbling, "g'way."

"No, seriously man, you gotta get up!"

Squeezing his eyes tightly against the morning light, John growled low in his throat. "Gordon, you are massively wrong in your assumptions. Now get the hell out of my room."

There was blessed silence for a moment then a sigh. "Okay, just don't blame me when you hear."

There was the soft sound of footsteps on plush carpeting then the click of a door closing. John rolled over and fell back into slumber.

Ninety minutes later, with a heaving sigh, John woke again. Stretching in bed, he recalled the previous night's clambake with pleasure. After a strenuous rescue, there was nothing like sitting on the beach with a plate of crab and a cold beer. As the evening had gone on, he and his four brothers had bragged and lied and argued and teased. It was good.

As he got out of his bed he marveled once again that his brothers had truly become his best friends. They'd always been close as a family, but if anyone had asked him as a kid if he'd be living with his family as an adult, he'd have laughed and said impossible. It was funny how his life had turned out, but he wouldn't change it for the world.

Finishing his shower, he stood in front of his mirror shaving, and caught a glimpse of a nearly healed yellowish bruise on his jaw. He paused recalling that the accident that had caused the bruise had been less than a week ago. He shook his head ruefully. It seemed more than just a few days. The series of space-based rescues had seemed to take an eternity, but it had in fact only lasted for 72 hours.

Pulling on clean shorts and a tee shirt, John headed for the kitchen and breakfast. He was late, so he'd have to batch together some coffee and toast, or maybe cereal, but it was worth it for the extra sleep.

Coming through the doorway, he was surprised to find he was not alone. His entire family was gathered around the kitchen table, eating. Alan was the first to see him, and grinned a welcome. "Hey, look what the cat dragged in!"

"Mornin' everyone," John said as he stopped by the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. "We havin' brunch this morning?"

Gordon made a show at looking around at the various boxes of cereal and bowls of fruit before replying, "Nope. Can't be brunch. No mimosas."

"Mimosas! Oh, I haven't had one of those in a dog's age," Ruth Tracy said wistfully, before turning to her grandson. "Sit down, John. What can I get you?"

"Don't get up on my account, Grandma. I'm just going to grab some Cheerios."

"Sorry. All out." Virgil said as he scooped up a heaping spoonful of the cereal from his bucket-sized bowl.

"Ya want corn flakes?" Gordon held out his box.

With a sigh, John took the box and poured a healthy portion into his bowl. He sat staring at the bowl for a while. Ruth finished her bowl and got up. "I'll be in my sewing room if anybody needs anything."

Amid various acknowledgements, John sat quietly, still contemplating his breakfast. He watched the elderly lady surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. As soon as she was gone, his hand shot out and snagged the Coco Puffs sitting in front of Alan who sniggered as he ate.

Scott, seeing what was happening, shoved the Fruit Loops across the table. "You are so weird."

John took the box and poured a judicious amount in with the corn flakes and Coco Puffs. With a frown he scanned the table. "Where's the Lucky Charms?"

All eyes went to the head of the table where Jeff sat, a proprietary hand on the colorful cereal box, a challenge in his eyes. John eyed his parent and with a sigh, said in a tone of sweet reason, "Give it up, Dad. Without Cheerios, I need the Lucky Charms to balance it out."

"Yeah, Dad, you wouldn't want Johnny to be unbalanced, would you?" Alan asked, smirking.

Scott piped up, "Personally, I've always doubted his balance."

Virgil shook his head. "You're confusing balance and sanity again, Scott."

Scott nodded. "When you're right, you're right."

"I thought it was Trix that balanced corn flakes," Gordon commented.

"We have some?"

"No."

"Okay, then it has to be Lucky Charms. Come on, Dad, hand it over. My cereal's getting soggy."

"That would be a more effective argument if you had actually put milk on it, son." Jeff arched an eyebrow.

"All right, it's getting stale then. You know I hate stale cereal." John batted his eyes.

With a chuckle, Jeff passed the cereal to his middle son. Pouring a generous portion, John said, "That's more like it. Breakfast of champions."

Pouring the milk over the conglomeration, John asked, "So how come everyone's so late with breakfast?"

"We were watching the news. They caught the bastards responsible for that cloud of contamination."

John's eyebrows flew up. "You're kidding me."

Alan just grinned. "The WSA used your trajectory to backtrack..."

"Yeah. They found this pirate manufacturing station..." Gordon chimed in.

"Well, it can't have been all that pirate, 'cause they found out who owned it quick enough..."

"Yeah, you're never going to believe who was behind it..."

"Hey, I was telling..."

"Not very well...

"Oh, and you think you were doing better?"

"I know I was. Face it, Al, I'm just a natural communicator."

"Oh man, you are so living in a fantasy world."

"Well, duh! Take a look around! Does this seem like reality to you? A tropical island that is in truth the home to a family of superheroes?"

"Oh! Yeah! Johnny, you should hear how they were talking about our dive to capture that Smithy the other day!"

John had been munching his breakfast with growing exasperation. Ignoring his younger brothers, he turned his appeal to Virgil. "Virg?"

"It seems Earth First didn't run out of money after all. They set up the station to manufacture cheap knock off computer parts with an eye to using the profits for their so-called cause. Only the used space station they bought wasn't designed for it, and the engineers they used to refit it were either idiots or just as crooked as they were. Bottom line, the station lasted just about as long as it took to deliver the chemicals."

John felt his jaw drop at this explanation. "That can't... I mean, how could... Oh. My. God!"

"It gets better." Scott drawled. "Most of the members were actually on the station when it was destroyed by that crap. Apparently they didn't call for help because they didn't want any additional 'pollution' from rocket exhaust. They left this rambling 'manifesto' on the station. They seem to have honestly believed that they were being punished by God for breaking their own rules and polluting space."

John shook his head in disbelief. "How many people?"

"They picked up twenty-two bodies. A damn shame. At a guess I would say fewer than half were true fanatics. The rest were victims just as much as those poor Chinese folks we weren't able to save." Jeff said grimly.

John blew out a deep breath. It seemed unreal. For the past fifteen years or so a group of fanatical environmentalists called Earth First had lobbied and protested and performed acts of sabotage and terrorism in a misguided attempt to keep the human race from entering outer space. Their mantra was that man had spoiled the Earth and had no right to spoil outer space.

The last thing John would have expected was for these same people to actually use a space station for any reason. "That is just so..."

"Wrong. Yeah. But when you think of it, how is it different from those religious cults that grow marijuana and poppies to pay for their little ashrams?" Gordon said wryly.

John nodded. The world was full of contradictions. A small smile suddenly appeared on his face. "Grandma was right all along!"

Scott barked a short laugh, and Virgil smiled even as the others frowned in confusion. "What do you mean, son?" Jeff asked.

"While you were flying out to the moon, we were eating dinner, and Virg asked who would do something like release that cloud, and Grandma said Earth First would."

With a rueful smile, Jeff just shook his head. "Eighty years old and still smarter than the rest of us put together." The Tracy patriarch paused then looked out over his gathered sons. "Boys, take the morning off. We've all had a tough few days, and with the Mole back in business and the parts for Thunderbird Three on order, there's nothing pressing. Go enjoy yourselves."

John smiled. His brothers all made appreciative noises with the exception of Scott who turned a blank expression to Virgil. "You repaired it without me?"

Virgil covered a look of dismay and said defensively. "I had to. Gordon insisted."

Gordon for his part, smiled innocently and wiggled his fingers in a wave at his big brother. Scott's eyes narrowed. "I'm surprised you found the time after mixing up that purple paint."

Gordon's smile froze as his father and both blond brothers turned accusing eyes his way. John spoke first. "I believe you and I have a fencing date this morning."

Visibly swallowing, Gordon put a brave face on it, smiling, "Okay Johnny, sure."

"Wait a minute, I thought your fencing date was with me," Scott objected.

John cocked his head. "Well, I don't actually mean to fence with Gordon so much as run him through."

"Oh, I want a piece of that action," Alan smiled grimly.

"Hey! Whose side are you on?" Gordon cried indignantly.

"Ya know, that was exactly what I was thinking when I saw that purple paint." Alan stared down his brother.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe Virgil did it?"

"NO!" The response came in unison from all four brothers and their father.

Gordon hid a flinch and looked down his nose at his family. "Well, I promised to play with Johnny, but I never said anything about the rest of you slobs."

John shook his head. Gordon had a habit of digging any hole he fell into deeper and deeper. With a tight smile he said, "Well, I'd ask Scott for your stuff when you're dead, except you don't have anything anybody would want."

"Oh, now that hurt!" Gordon grabbed at his heart dramatically. "Ya got me!"

"You have no idea how badly I've gotten you, kiddo. Let's go down to the gym and I'll show you."

"Um, I'll meet you there. There's something I gotta do first." Gordon got up with feigned casualness from the table, and putting his dishes in the sink, made his escape.

In the silence that followed, John finished off the last of his cereal. He remarked casually, "He's gonna run."

"Like a river in flood," Scott responded.

"Like undercooked eggs," Virgil nodded.

"Like cheap stockings," Alan added sagely, garnering stares from around the table. "What?"

John shook his head. "Well, if Alan, Scott and I are going to fence, we need a fourth. Dad, what do you say?"

Jeff looked up with surprise. "What?"

"Would you care to join us in the gym?" John clarified.

"Fencing?" Jeff looked bemused.

"Yeah, Dad! John found a picture of you in full gear. We were talking about it, and we'd like to work out with you." Alan sounded casual, but the eagerness in his eye belied the tone.

"You can fence, Dad?" Virgil asked, his smile showing his delight.

"It's been a long time. A very long time," Jeff said quietly, but then a smile formed. "But you know, I think I'll just take you up on your offer there, son."

"Outstanding!" Scott grinned, then frowned momentarily. "But what about you, Virg? I don't like the idea of you being left out."

Virgil slapped his brother on the back. "Don't worry about me. As soon as I've popped the corn, I'll be down to watch."

"Put your money on me, Virg. I'll be doin' some serious housecleaning," Alan smirked.

"Only if you intend to be using a mop, kid," Scott growled.

"He'll need it to wipe up the blood after I've skewered you both, John said sweetly.

Virgil just shook his head, chuckling. "God, you guys are dumb. Don't you remember the last time Dad claimed he hadn't done something in years?"

John looked up startled. He saw the same surprise in Scott and Alan's eyes. They all looked to their father who sat with an air of innocence. "Who, me?"

After a moment, the look slipped, and Jeff's competitive nature came through in a predatory smile, almost intimidating the three younger men. Almost. Then, first Scott, then John and Alan donned predatory smiles of their own. "Oh, this is gonna be fun!" Alan declared.

Speaking almost to himself, Virgil said,"Double popcorn. With butter. Yeah, that's the ticket."

"What are we waiting for?" Scott said with more enthusiasm than John had heard from him in a long time. He followed his brother to the sink to drop off his dirty dishes then headed for the gym. Jeff and Alan trailed behind.

"Hey, we need a set of whites for Dad, Alan called.

John paused. "Well, I've got a couple of extra lames, but I don't think my chest protector will fit."

"Actually, boys, I believe I have something that might fit the bill in my bedroom. I'll catch up." With that, Jeff disappeared down the hallway toward his bedroom suite.

John and Scott looked at each other. Alan cleared his throat. "Why do I get the feeling we've been had?"

Sighing, Scott replied. "Because we probably have been. Well, come on, we'll find out soon enough."

Scott led the way to the locker room. The three brothers split up and John headed to his own cubby. Pulling out the white clothes that would provide its own layer of protection, he got dressed with well-practiced speed. Donning the chest protector and then the lame, he grabbed his helmet and foil and headed out into the gym.

As he entered the large multi-purpose gymnasium, his nose was assailed with the smell of popcorn. Over on one of the long benches lining one wall, he spied not only Virgil, but also Tin-Tin and Brains, each with their own tub of the hot buttered treat.

John strolled over. Helping himself to a handful from Virgil's popcorn, he smiled. "Hey, Tin-Tin, you get over your jetlag?"

The young lady smiled up at him. "Yes, John, thank you. Brains was kind enough to give me a pill that worked very well. You look very handsome today."

"Thanks." John acknowledged the compliment. Tin-Tin was a nice girl, but too reserved for John's taste.

The line of thought was interrupted by the arrival of his brothers. "Handsome? John? Sweetie, you may want to get your eyes checked," Alan smirked.

"Oh, I think he is very handsome. All of you look very nice. When Mr. Tracy gets here, I want to have a picture of you all." Tin-Tin reached around for her camera.

"Good idea, Tin-Tin." Jeff's baritone rumbled as he moved up. John turned and stared. His father was fully outfitted in white. Although he was approaching sixty, he stood tall and straight, and John couldn't help the thrill of pride he felt.

"Oh, Mr. Tracy! You look wonderful!"

"Well, thank you, Tin-Tin. You'd better take that picture now before the boys start losing body parts."

"Yes, Tin-Tin. Take it now, before Dad is a quivering bloody heap on the floor," Scott drawled.

"In your dreams, kiddo." Jeff growled under his breath, as he put his arm around his eldest son's shoulders. Alan moved in on Jeff's other side, and John moved in next to Scott.

"Smile, everyone!" Tin-Tin pointed the camera, taking several pictures in rapid succession.

"Hey, Tin-Tin, if they come out, I want a set, okay?" John asked.

"Of course, John. I shall make you an album."

"Thanks!" John responded, smiling.

The four men moved out onto the floor and began preliminary stretching. When he felt limber John gestured to Scott. "You ready?"

"Absolutely." Both men pulled on their helmets and moved out on to the shock absorbing mats that covered the middle of the floor.

"Leave some for me, son," Jeff called as he and Alan retired to the sidelines.

"Sure, Dad." Both Scott and John answered in unison.

With a preliminary tap of the blades, the two brothers settled into en garde position. John focused intently on his brother, waiting for him to make the first move. He was therefore startled by the bloodcurdling yell from high up in the gym.

He looked up barely in time to see Gordon swinging down on a long rope. He took a step back, as his crazy younger brother swung past, dressed in something... colorful, with what looked like a scimitar clutched between his teeth.

Gordon's momentum wasn't quite enough to reach the other side, and he swung back, a slightly disgruntled look on his face. He swung back and forth in decreasing arcs for a few swings, then apparently deciding it wasn't working out, let go of the rope, and landed flat on his back at Scott and John's feet.

With a glance at each other, Scott and John moved their foils within an inch of their brother's throat. Jeff and Alan at this point stepped up and while Jeff touched his foil to his downed son's chest, in the vicinity of his heart, Alan went lower, to rest his point at another vital piece of anatomy.

Looking up, Gordon grinned disarmingly, spitting out the 'sword.' "Um, hi fellas?"

John had to work hard to keep from laughing. His brother was wearing what looked like his black competition Speedo. Above that was an open multi-colored shirt tied well above his belly button. On his head was some filmy thing. But the best part were the shiny black thigh length boots. "Where the hell did you get those boots?" Scott asked wonderingly.

John bit his lip to keep from laughing, but he sensed Alan about to lose it next to him. "Son, is that your grandmother's scarf?" Jeff moved his foil to flick the bright red filmy headgear before moving it back to rest above Gordon's heart.

Alan sniggered. John still fought not to laugh, but it was becoming harder and harder, especially with the howls and whoops coming from the bench, where Virgil, Brains and Tin-Tin were falling all over themselves with mirth.

"Um, well, yes, actually. Do you know how hard it is to find a good pirate bandanna these days?" Gordon said conversationally, which sent Alan into a spasm of laughter. "Hey! Watch it, Al! That tickles!"

Jeff was chuckling. "Well make sure you clean it before you give it back to her."

"Okay, Dad. Um, you guys going to let me up?"

"Now, why would we do that?" Scott drawled.

"Um, so you can get on with slicing each other up?"

"Hmmm. How about if we just slice you up?"

"Well, I didn't want to say this, but you're forcing me to it." Gordon stated with mock fierceness. "I have you all at a disadvantage. I have this!" He waved his scimitar. "Now let me up, or I shall be forced to use it!"

Jeff casually moved his foot to trap his son's arm on the ground. Peering closely at the blade, he asked, "Are those tooth marks?"

John looked over at the 'scimitar' and realized his father was right. Where Gordon had held the sword in his mouth were definite depressions. Leaving Scott to hold his brother down, John moved around and picked up the weapon. With a frown he sniffed, then licked. "Licorice."

All four looked down at their captive. Gordon had the grace to look sheepish. "I was going to give you all such a case of sugar high."

There were more shrieks of laughter from the bench. Or more specifically from the ground in front of the bench where Virgil, Brains and Tin-Tin, lay in a debris field of popped corn. Brains was holding his sides still laughing helplessly. Tin-Tin was wiping her eyes between fits of high-pitched laughter. Virgil was waving weakly , "No more, please, no more."

John couldn't hold it in any longer, and he started to laugh, which started Alan off again. Jeff and Scott tried to maintain some decorum, but soon enough they were caught up in the infectious laughter themselves. Soon, Alan and John joined Gordon on the floor, laughing their heads off.

Jeff and Scott managed to stay upright by holding on to each other. Gordon sat cross-lagged on the floor, looking at his family around him With a sigh he reached over to his scimitar, and picking it up, bit off the end and sat thoughtfully chewing, which sent his brothers and father into fresh spasms of laughter.

With a wry smile, he stood up and said, "Well, my work here is done."

As he pranced away, gales of laughter behind him, he wiggled his butt suggestively, which sent Scott to the floor, pulling Jeff with him. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have been that funny, but already weak with laughter, John couldn't take it, and burst into fresh guffaws.

It was a good ten minutes before any of them could sit up. Lying on his back, with his knees up, Jeff said, "Ah, that was good. I haven't laughed like that in ages."

Scott got to his feet, and offered a hand to his parent. "He really knows how to get us going, doesn't he?"

"Well, I wouldn't have laughed if Virgil hadn't been shrieking over there," Alan said, still breathless.

"I heard that." Virgil called from his resting place on the floor. "I do not shriek."

"There was definite shriekage coming from you, Virg." John commented as he got to his feet.

"No, those were hearty guffaws. Manly hearty guffaws," Virgil said with dignity. Scott went over and offered a hand. "No, I think I'll just stay here. It's kind of peaceful, you know?"

Scott turned to Tin-Tin, but Alan had already insinuated himself between them, and helped the young lady up himself. He turned back to Brains, but the young scientist was already up, dusting his labcoat off with his hands, popcorn flying everywhere. He looked again at Virgil, who with a sigh, took the offered hand and climbed to his feet.

"Aw, I spilled my popcorn." Virgil complained mournfully as Scott dusted him off.

"Be thankful that's all, uh, Virgil." Brains admitted ruefully. "At one point there, I came perilously close to, uh, wetting my knickers."

The admission brought a round of sheepish nods of the head as the Tracys admitted they too had come close to that ultimate disgrace.

Scott looked at John and gestured with his foil. "Shall we?"

With a decisive nod, John replied, "We shall."

As the two brothers moved once more to the center of the room, John reflected that the laughing fit had left him loose, and mellow. He could see the feeling reflected in Scott as his older brother took up a stance opposite him. With a sly smile, when 'en garde' was called, John made a tremendous leap forward like a springing gazelle, and scored against his startled brother with his foil bent almost double against his heart.