SUNNY DAY by BOOMERCAT RATED FRC

A followup to A Cold Day In Hell. Virgil and Scott bond.

The day was turning out to be one of those perfect island days that made me glad to be alive. The air was rich with the scents and sounds of a house by the sea, and the breeze had just a breath of coolness to it.

I zipped up my jacket, knowing that it was really too warm to wear one, and if I had to wear it long I would become uncomfortable. Still, it held the rubber weight firmly in place in the small of my back, so I was willing to wear it for the time being.

I tripped lightly down the steps leading to the pool and gardens of my home on Tracy Island, and was grateful for the sun, and the sky, and the tranquility. Especially the tranquility. After last week's disastrous rescue attempt in the Arctic, I had been pretty much sleepless.

My brother Scott had been injured, and for the first few nights, I had stayed by his bedside. I don't know, I just had to be there. It's not like I have any real medical skills. If something had gone seriously wrong, all I could have done was holler for Brains and panic. I suppose the real reason I stayed was because I needed to reassure myself that he was truly going to be all right.

Of course, now that he wasn't bedridden, I simply couldn't sleep because of the nightmares. As much as I love Thunderbird Two, there are times when the most I can do is just sit and wait for someone else to do the rescuing, and for me, that is hard. I've always been a hand's on kind of guy, and having to sit in my ‘bird and wait until Gordon had…

Anyway, it was all over, and I prayed the nightmares would pass. I walked out into Grandma's rose garden, and started hunting for the perfect flower. At breakfast Dad had declared today to be a holiday and I had decided to paint a still life.

"Hey, Virg! There you are!"

I turned to see Gordon trotting toward me, a notebook in his hand. I called out agreeably, "Here I am. What's up?"

"I've got this monster idea, and I wanted to ask you about it before I hit up Brains."

I raised an eyebrow. This should be good. Gordon looked around and with a jerk of his head indicated the bench in front of some tall bushes. "Come on, I wanna show you."

He started to head off, but paused when I stood my ground. "Gordon, I'm kind of busy here. Why don't you just tell me about it? We'll kill two birds with one stone."

A lightening flicker of something crossed his face, and I knew he was not going to let me get away with just hearing his idea. Sure enough, he shook his head, "Aw, come on, Virg. You can play with your posies anytime. This is important."

He was using that puppy dog look that hadn't worked on me since he was five, but knowing he would pester me to the ends of the earth, I sighed, and stepped toward him. Seeing he had gotten his way, he grinned happily and led me over to the bench.

He sat down and patted the bench next to him. I didn't feel like sitting, so I shook my head, crossed my arms and said, "Okay, so, what is this big idea?"

Again there was a flicker of something in his eyes, but he just started in, his enthusiasm bubbling like the fizz in soda. "Well, you know that Brains has that little itty-bitty engine he's designed, right? All that power for very little fuel. And there's that alloy he wants to use on the pods, right? Stronger that steel, lighter than aluminum. So I got to thinking, and I want to build a… thing."

"A thing?" I asked, hard put to keep the amusement out of my voice. Gordon wasn't really mechanically minded, but he made up for it with a wild imagination and an absolute inability to take no for an answer. I would be the first to admit on rare occasion…very rare occasion… he would come up with some weird idea that Brains and I could actually translate into a viable machine. The Mole was one design that had started with a germ of an idea from my little brother's decidedly warped mind.

"Yeah. A thing. I figure we can start with a motorcycle chassis, and what we do, see, is we put that engine in the back, and we use the alloy, and so, you're riding along on the motorcycle, and you push this button, and these little wings pop out, like they do on Thunderbird One, and suddenly you're flying! Cool, huh?"

"A flying motorcycle?"

"Well, yeah, but not just that! When the little wings pop out, the windshield kinda morphs into a, um, fuselage, and the sides come up, so that once you're airborne, you're in a cockpit, not just, you know, hanging out there in the wind."

I raised an eyebrow at the ‘morph.' I looked at his crude sketches and with a frown pointed to one that looked more like a torpedo than an airplane. "What's that?"

"Oh, that's the best part! You're flying along, right? And you come to the ocean. You push another button, and the wings retract, and stabilizers come out, and you can just dive right into the water, and it becomes a submarine."

"A flying, diving motorcycle," I deadpanned.

Gordon blinked at me. "Well, I was thinking of it more as a road-riding, flying submarine, but yeah, that's the general idea. What do you think?"

"About what?" I glanced over my shoulder at Scott coming up.

"Gordon wants to build a motorcycle that flies."

"And dives." Gordon said proudly. I noticed his eyes flickering around as if searching for something.

Scott came to stand by my side, giving me a short nod. The bruises from his accident had all but disappeared. I suppose if you met him in the street, they wouldn't even be visible, but to me, the faint shadowing stood out like a beacon. "You want to sit down?"

Predictably, Scott wrinkled his nose in annoyance. "No," he said firmly, then turned to our brother who was more or less trapped on the bench between us. "Actually, I have a question for you, Gordon."

"Yeah? What's up?"

Scott reached a hand into his jacket and pulled out a red balloon, filled with some lumpy substance. "Recognize this?"

I had to hand it to Gordon, he managed to keep the shock off of his face. He was all casual when he replied, "Gee, Scott, offhand, I'd say it's a balloon. Maybe somebody's having a party."

I reached behind my own back and pulled out the balloon that had been resting there. "Must be. Here's another one. What do you suppose is in it?"

Okay, that got him. He looked around, realizing he was trapped, and with a sigh of resignation, asked, "What did you two do with Alan?"

"Oh, he's tied up at the moment," Scott said with deadly sweetness.

"What's in the balloons, Gordon?" I made my tone match Scott's.

One thing I will say about my little brother, Gordon. He has this remarkable ability to appreciate situations. When tricks are pulled on him, he's as likely to be delighted as upset. And when one of his own pranks backfires, he'll take the punishment without complaint. With a sigh he shrugged. "Maybe some grape jelly and ink and oatmeal. You never know."

Scott and I looked at each other, then turned back to our captive. Gordon saw our intent, and to both of our surprise, threw himself on his knees before us, hands clasped, "Please oh please! Forgive me! I was led astray! I'll never, ever do anything like this again, Scout's honor! Please don't!"

The pitiful begging was a new tactic, and I for one was hard put not to crack up. I knew Scott was feeling the same, because he lifted his balloon high, and slammed it down on our brother's bowed head. I was a split second behind him, knowing if I didn't do it now, I would be laughing so hard, I wouldn't be able to.

The look of shock on Gordon's face as the blue gooey mess dripped down was priceless. I couldn't help it, I started to laugh. Scott was giving me all kinds of signals to maintain, but it was just that damn funny. It took an effort, but I reined it in after a moment, knowing Scott had something else in mind.

Gordon didn't try to get up; he just used his hands to wipe the worst of the goo away. Scott stood sternly looking down at our brother, and I tried to match his pose. After a few moments, Gordon noticed we hadn't moved, and he was stuck on his knees between us and the bench. Warily he looked up at us.

Scott took a deep breath, shaking his head sadly, and reached into his jacket a second time. He pulled out a roll of duct tape. Gordon couldn't hide the instant panic, and he dove between us and, rolling to his feet, took off at high speed, trailing little gobs of blue goo.

I watched him go and with a smile glanced over at Scott. He returned the look and we both burst out laughing. It had actually been John who had duct-taped Gordon to the barn door back when we were kids, but it was still a very useful threat. It was nice to laugh again.

I noticed that Scott was looking a bit pale, so I casually said, "Let's go sit out by the pool."

Pulling off his jacket, Scott nodded. "Sounds good."

I took off my own jacket as we strolled over to the loungers. Settling back, we each pulled out a pair of sunglasses. It felt good to be in the sun.

Scott sighed, "Now, this is more like it."

"Yeah."

"Gotta tell you, Virg, there were a few moments last week when I wasn't sure I'd ever see the sun again."

I couldn't help but stiffen. I had somehow assumed that Scott had been knocked out before Thunderbird One had sunk through the Arctic ice into the cold sea. I looked over at him, but he seemed relaxed, his eyes closed. I swallowed hard. "I had that feeling myself."

"Yeah." He became quiet. I wanted to talk to him about it, but I didn't really know what to say. After a few minutes, Scott said, "You did a good job, you know."

It felt like something hard burst inside of me. My voice sounded harsh in my own ears. "I didn't do squat. It was Gordon who saved you."

Suddenly Scott swung his legs off of the lounger, and leaned forward, trying to catch my eye. I didn't want to see the look. Didn't want the pity. What I didn't expect was his agreement. "Yeah, he did a hell of a job out there. But then, so did you."

I had to look away. My heart was aching with denial. I had sat in my damn ship while two of my brothers fought for their lives. "You could have died, Scott."

"No." Scott's firm statement had me turning back to him. "Not with you and Gordon there. You wouldn't have let it happen. You didn't let it happen."

I hung my head, still feeling the shame. "Scott, I've never been so scared in my life. What if Gordon hadn't saved you? What if you died?"

"Then you would have inherited my shares in Tracy Enterprises." Scott waved his hand. It wasn't funny, and I sure as hell didn't laugh. "Seriously, Virg, you can't think like that. We both know our lives are on the line everytime we head out. If I started second guessing when I ordered you or one of the brats into the danger zone, nobody would be safe."

I shook my head. "Intellectually, I understand that, but when I looked down from Two and saw nothing but a hole in the ice where you'd been two minutes earlier… Scott, I'm just not sure I'm cut out for this any more."

There. I admitted it. Just saying it out loud felt like a betrayal of everything I stood for, but I just wasn't sure I could face that situation again. I waited for Scott to say something, anything, but I suppose he was just too shocked. He sat there looking at me.

Just when I had about decided I couldn't stand it any longer and made a move to escape, he stilled me with his voice. "Do you remember our first rescue? The Fireflash?"

I frowned. How could I possibly have forgotten that? I looked to Scott, and he nodded. "I had just resigned my commission. It all sounded so… I don't know… noble and grand. Save the world and all that crap. And there I was, totally resplendent in my shiny new uniform, watching those damn elevator cars swerving all over that damn runway. Why that plane did not go up in a ball of flame I'll never know. When the smoke cleared away, I could see the control car flipped over, and Virgil, I swear to God, my heart flat out stopped. It just stopped."

Scott paused, taking a deep breath to release the memory. "There was absolutely no doubt in my mind whatsoever that I had killed you." Scott's voice caught on the words, and he swallowed hard. "If it hadn't been for me, you would have been in Houston building bridges. Johnny and Alan would have been on the moon, and I would have made Major."

I looked at him like he was a stranger. How could he have come to a conclusion like that? "As I recall it, Scott, I made my own decision to join. I know you think you have this magic power over me, but let's face it, I'm nobody's yes man."

Scott shook his head. "Virg, Dad and I talked about International Rescue for years. From the time Mom died, he had it in his mind to create this. He and I would sit out on the porch after you guys went to bed and we'd talk about it until the middle of the night. If I'd ever said ‘that's stupid' or ‘who do you think you are,' he probably wouldn't have kept dreaming. But I was right there pushing him, agreeing with him, telling him to go forward."

This was not news to me. My bedroom was right over the porch, and there was many a summer's eve that I laid in bed listening to the grand plans that my father spun. If I were honest about it, I'd say my determination to become an engineer was spawned by my own desire to make my father's dream come true. I shrugged. "International Rescue was a good idea, Scott. Besides, I'm not all that sure you could have really derailed ‘Irresistible Force Tracy' once he got rolling."

Scott snorted a soft chuckle. "Well, the point is, when I saw that car upside down, I decided then and there that I wanted no part of International Rescue. Even after you answered when I called, I was done. I figured I could rescind my resignation and re-up with the Air Force."

"What stopped you?" I asked, curious.

"You."

"Me? Scott, I didn't even know you were having doubts."

"When I got to the car, and muscled my way in, you were hanging there, half upside down with this big shit-eating grin on your face." Scott shook his head, smiling softly. "I'd had this idea that I would quit, and International Rescue would just shut down before it ever really got off the ground. One look at you, and I knew that you'd never quit."

"Yeah, well, I'm ready to quit now," I said quietly.

Scott continued on as if I hadn't spoken. "And, of course, when I stopped for a moment to think about it, I realized John, Gordon and Alan wouldn't quit either. Then came the real epiphany." Scott paused and put on a goofy grin. "I like that word, epiphany."

I had to chuckle. "So what was the big epiphany?"

"I realized that if I left, and something were to happen to one of you guys, I wouldn't be there to help." Scott cocked an eyebrow. "You sure you want to be sitting in your nice safe office in Houston and listen to a news report about Thunderbird Two showing up at a rescue site?"

Okay, so maybe I hadn't thought it through. "Scott, I felt so damn helpless out there."

"Of course, you leave and Thunderbird Two is Gordon's."

I tried again to get him to understand. "Scott, I didn't know if you were dead or alive."

"Gordon would be primary pilot on the Mole, too. And the Firefly."

"Scott…"

"Of course, Alan would be his backup. He'd probably want to repaint Two red or something."

"Okay! Okay! Shut up!" Geez, as if I weren't having nightmares already.

Scott chuckled. "Paints a frightening picture, doesn't it? Anyway, the thing is, Virg, whether you think so or not, I am sitting here today because neither you nor Gordon were willing to quit on me. And before you start that ‘Gordon saved you' crap, keep in mind that he wouldn't have made it either if you hadn't been there."

I sat scrubbing my face with my hands. Scott was right, of course. It was a team effort. I knew I was starting to see that, but I couldn't help trying to explain just once more. "I wanted to be the one to pull you out, Scott. I wanted to be right there for you."

"I know. Honest to God, I know. But you have to look at it from my point of view too, Virg." Scott paused and I raised my eyebrow. "You saved something infinitely more important. You saved Thunderbird One."

I rolled my eyes. "Your toy rocket is not as important as you are, Scott."

"Well, let me put that in perspective for you, Virg. If One had been lost, I would have automatically become the primary pilot on Two. You would have been stuck on Five, John would have gotten seasick, and Lord help the world, Gordon would have been given Three." Scott paused to think. "I guess we would have had to get Alan's old tricycle out of the attic for him."

God, what a visual! I started to laugh. Scott really had a way. I nodded, understanding that whatever my fears, Scott would be there for me, making me laugh, helping me to understand. I could practically feel the weight lifting from my shoulders. My mind went back to his earlier comment. I smiled. "You were resplendent."

"Totally."

When I looked over at my brother, he was leaning back on the lounger, sunglasses in place, a quiet smile on his lips. Releasing a breath that seemed to release my own cares, I sank back in my lounger and closed my eyes, soaking up the warm sun. It was a perfect day on the island.