Right. New Story. This one is about when the boys first move to Tracy Island and discover what it is that their father is planning for them. This is based in the same AU as Forever Mine.

The K+ rating is based on the inclusion of some mild coarse language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds (they belong to someone who is not me, I don't actually know who it is now) and I am not making any money from this story. None of the characters are intended to portray any living or dead person and any similarities are entirely coincidental. Nor I would like to add do I own any part of the company Virgin…just in case.

OK, some edits made thanks to a fair few pointers from cathrl. By no means are the chapters up here perfect… I may well have missed some hulking great mistake of mine that should be obvious after the all the help given. So sorry for any existing mistakes… I'm trying my best, and hey, we can all hope my writing may get a little better.

1. Secrets and Holidays

"I call shot gun."

"What no fair! I wanted to ride shot gun."

"You're idiots. You know that? Neither of you can ride shot gun, you're not old enough."

"Said who? You're only a year and a half older than me. You rode shot gun with Dad when you were thirteen."

"I say, and that's final. If I'm piloting, I am not having either of the terrible two anywhere near the cockpit. I want to get there in one piece, not end up at the bottom of the ocean somewhere."

"I like the sea."

"Grandma says you shouldn't call us that, Scott. It's demeaning and disrespectful. We're just very badly behaved at times, that's all."

"Badly behaved? That doesn't even begin to cover it."

"Shut up, John."

"Yeah, that's not fair, John, they're too young to understand that they're annoying, irritating, infuriating…"

"Don't forget extremely trying, Virge…"

"Thanks, Johnny. I nearly did."

"We're not going to get to ride shot gun are we, Gordo?"


The five Tracy boys had all been squashed in the black SUV for the past four and a half hours. It had blacked out windows, with the intention of it's occupants not attracting any kind of unwanted media attention, with Tracy Aerospace Corporation's current state of affairs about equal to the world-conquering status of Virgin, a decade after the turn of the century. It had been 'borrowed' from their father's multi-national company and furthermore despite being the largest car that their father could have lent his sons without giving them a mini-bus, they were still finding the lack of space uncomfortable and the thirteen-year-old-antics of the red headed youngster had become tiresome after the first twenty minutes of what was scheduled to be a five and a half hour journey. All of his older brothers had contemplated throttling the prankster at least once since the journey began, and now even his younger (hero-worshipping) sibling was thinking of opening the door and throwing him out.

Currently the seventh grader was throwing a ball against the cream leather headrest of his next eldest brother who was sitting in front of him.

"Cut it out, Gordon."

"What, Virge?"

"You know what." Gordon stopped for a moment and made an animated act of looking around his person as though the answer would suddenly appear beside him in a flourish of elucidation.

"Sorry, Virge. I really don't."

Suddenly Virgil swung round in his seat, nearly elbowing the quietly observing John in the face as he did so.

"Gordon, you know exactly what you're doing and I swear if you don't stop throwing that ball against my chair I will punch you." He ground out.

"Oh that. Sorry, didn't realise you meant that." Gordon held the small red and blue ball in his hand as Virgil turned back round to face the front of the car muttering something about them not being related.

"Alan!" The twelve year old turned to face his older brother to be met by the ball squarely connecting with his nose. If he hadn't of nearly broken the younger boys nose, the shot would have been worthy of congratulatory applause but as it was the excellent throw received a much more crude acknowledgement.

"What the fuck was that for, Gordon?" He shouted cupping his hands around the sore area of his face that had just discovered what the impact of a small but hard ball felt like.

"Alan, watch your language!" Scott shouted back from the driver's seat, allowing his eyes to momentarily glance backwards via the rear view mirror situated on the windscreen in front of him. He could see Gordon staring at Alan for a moment and wondered what was about to occur in the back of the vehicle they were currently travelling in.

"Shit, sorry dude. I thought you'd catch it." Scott had expected a shrug and for the young swimmer to move on to what took his fancy next as usual, but this simply offered him up a chance to shout and assert his authority a little more.

"Gordon, you to. Grandma would have had a bar of soap in your mouths." Scott replied to Gordon's comment. Having had enough of the ball zooming around their heads and not wishing to fall foul of the same fate that had just befallen his youngest sibling, John turned around to speak to his terror of a younger brother.

"Gords, listen. Please give me the ball; I really don't want to have to clean up when Virge kills you." The red head looked at his brother for a moment and sighed.

"Whatever, Johnny. Take all my fun. I'll just sit here and die of boredom instead." The few sentences were clearly overdramatic and he held out the small ball, face turned away in mock anguish. His older brother gladly took it from him. Feeling pity for the hyperactive child however he rummaged in the bag at his feet.

"Here, take this instead." He held out his PDA. It was a sleek silver machine, given to him on his fourteenth birthday by a regularly absent father, which had been fairly obviously 'upgraded'. Noting the confused look on the thirteen year olds face he added, "It's got games."

Suddenly much happier with the prospect of being allow to use the older boys pride and joy, Gordon exclaimed, "Cool! Thanks, Johnny." The young boy animatedly began playing the game with the volume turned up loudly. After a few carefully chosen comments from the driver and other passengers, he eventually pushed a headphone jack into the socket on the side of the machine, and placed the earphones in, well, his ears.

Slowly the youngest Tracy sidled over to his closest brother and began to watch over his shoulder. Oblivious to his surroundings Gordon let Alan continue to do this, but had he of been paying attention he soon would have shoved his only younger brother away. Just ten minutes of peace prevailed before another drama began to unfold.


"What?" His older brother exasperated.

"Can we stop?" Alan asked meekly. The eldest Tracy looked back towards the brother second in age to himself, raising his eyebrows. John took the hint; evidently Scott had had enough.

"Al, we stopped half an hour ago. You can't need the toilet again?"

"Well not exactly…" Before he could finish that thought a dry heave ripped through his body setting off a chain of reaction instantaneously. Suddenly the passenger next to him was fully aware of his presence, and Scott immediately pulled off the road. Virgil bolted out of the car, closely followed by John, allowing the youngest to scamper from the vehicle to the grass verge, where he immediately emptied the contents of his stomach.



"Grow up you two." Scott shot the middle two brothers a sharp look, and went over to Alan, where he gently rubbed his back, trying to relieve the sick feeling that had been building up in his youngest brother. After a few more dry heaves Alan nodded and accepted the bottle of water offered to him. Scott turned on the young prankster watching from a safe distance.

"Presuming you had something to do with this?"

"Huh?" Gordon was genuinely confused at the eldest Tracy heir's revelation. After all he had been sitting quietly in the back of the SUV minding his own business since his ball was confiscated.

"You're the one with the PDA. You know, Alan gets travel sick when he watches computer games."

"I wasn't sharing with him. I forgot he was even there to be honest, Scotty."

"Well you should have paid more attention, Gordon. Pushed him away. You normally have no trouble noticing an opportunity to wind someone up." He paused and realised the rest of his family was listening and staring. The pause was enough for him to realise it wasn't really the thirteen year olds fault. He pinched the bridge of his nose, creating an uncanny impression of his father. "Sorry. You're right; you weren't to know. Alan should have known better. Look, Alan can move up in the SUV and, Virge can move to the back."

Seeing he was about to get the short straw the third Tracy stepped in. "No you don't, Scotty. I am not going in the back with him." He nodded towards the next youngest boy. "Why can't, Alan just move up to the front with you?"

"Grow up, Virge. He can't go in the front because there's your art stuff all over the seat. Just get in the back. He'll ignore you; he was ignoring Alan after all. That's what caused this mess in the first place."

"I am here, Scott." Gordon idly threw in. He wasn't the kind of person to neither hold grudges nor get angry easily, but the whole conversation was starting to bore him and he really just wanted to get to the airport. The comment wasn't said with venom or bitterness, it was just Gordon's way of reminding his older brothers that he did in fact (although sometimes it seemed contrary to popular belief) have ears.

"Then you go back there." Apparently both Virgil and Scott had decided that they were going to ignore Gordon and continue their fairly pointless argument.

"I'm driving, Virgil. I can't." His reasoning was sound and the mechanically minded younger of the two saw this, and realised he had been backed into a corner. He seemingly had no option to go in the back now but there would be hell to pay later for implying that he didn't particularly relish the idea of a further sixty minutes sat next to his red head brother.

The eldest blond sighed. "I'll go. Gordon can't be that bad. Can you?" He had been listening to his brother letting them all know he was still there and remembered this by addressing his brother directly. Gordon shook his head. "Sorted, Gords and me are in the back and Alan can go with Virge."

"Not sure that's any better…" Virgil mumbled, but seeing his brother had saved him, he relented and stretched an arm towards the car. He might pay for his comments later in a series of annoying pranks, but for now he was safe. "Lead the way." He said, in a voice much more cheerful than he actually felt.

Finally all the Tracy boys were back in the car, and the journey began again. Another sixty minutes and they'd reach the airport, and start the long flight to the mysterious island to which their powerful father had summoned them. There they would all find out what this whole secret was about, why they had all been dragged away from carefully planned holidays. Scott had been relishing the idea of his long break from high school – his Junior year had been a tough one; juggling towers of school work, the seemingly endless needs of his family, the strenuous requirements of sport, constant snide remarks about his father's business and a girlfriend - he had been planning on spending some of his father's new found wealth and his time with his two youngest siblings, surfing in Hawaii, and he damn well deserved it in his opinion. It had been Gordon's idea, his love for water probably the culprit. John and Virgil had been planning a relaxing holiday with friends back in Kansas, after all it was a while since the days had been long enough to spend out in the fields playing together – but it was starting to look like those plans were going to be put on hold for a while. Still it couldn't be that hard to last just an hour together.




All bar two of the car's occupants (the one driving and the one causing the nuisance) turned to look at the young redhead.

"Gordon, I might have said it would be Virge who killed you, but it might be 'cause of death: John' soon on your death certificate." He stared frustrated at the boy for a moment before realising he couldn't hear due to the sound effects thundering in his ears. About to hit him to gain his attention, the thirteen year old suddenly felt the presence of six eyes on his person and looked up, pulling a single earphone from his ear; he turned to the others in the car.

"What's wrong? Alan sick again?" Oblivious to the annoyance he was causing. A flash in the corner of his mouth caught John's eye. A wad of pale green Tickling-Taste Buds bubblegum.