Chapter Text
Chapter One – Interruption.
Anne Ashton hit send on the last document of the day and determinedly shut down her work station with a wave of her hand. The holograms vanished, leaving her desk pleasingly clear. Getting to her feet, she stretched, her spine clicking in a satisfying way, and left the small room that was her office.
“Night, Jeff,” she called, passing the open door to her boss’s office.
Jeff Tracy glanced up with a smile. “Night, Anne. See you tomorrow.”
Over the last year and a half since his return to Earth, Jeff had slowly integrated himself back into Tracy Enterprises, although he’d been adamant about maintaining Anne and her colleague Tim as joint CEOs of his company. He’d even gone as far as to officially drop the ‘Acting’ from their titles. He himself bore the title of Founder, and he was quite happy with that. Rather than attempt to take work from Tim and Anne, he was instead fulfilling a more active role in planning out new space ventures, even if he hadn’t quite mustered up the courage to go on one himself.
Jeff’s eight years alone in the Oort Cloud had had a profound effect on him, and he was still working on recovering his confidence. Understandably, space had been the last place he’d wanted to go upon his return, but everyone on Tracy Island knew that it was temporary. Jeff Tracy was an astronaut through and through, even if he was suffering a minor hiccup. He had only been back a mere two months before he’d started announcing his plans to beat his nervousness and travel out to the black once again.
As soon as he’d gotten back to good physical shape, he’d tested himself by taking a trip up in the space elevator to Thunderbird 5, where he spent an hour with John before venturing back down. The next time, Alan had given him a quick trip in Thunderbird 3. Recently, he’d flown to the moon and back, Alan reluctantly giving up the controls of his beloved rocket in the name of Jeff’s recovery. Anne had no doubt that any day now, Jeff was going to announce his intention to travel to Mars to visit his old friend, Captain Lee Taylor. After that, who knew. Jeff’s limitations would be gone once more.
Anne smiled to herself as she walked the familiar path through the Tracy villa, waving to Grandma Tracy who was busy in the kitchen. Jeff’s return to health had been a gradual process, but everyone on the island had been pleased to see it. Sometimes he would cover John on communications from his desk in the lounge, but largely he kept out of International Rescue other than offering advice over the comm as his mother did. Anne suspected it was hard for him to do so, but the Tracy brothers had adapted while he’d been away, and International Rescue was theirs. Jeff didn’t want to disturb the balance of how they worked, even though they’d all have welcomed him. And he seemed to enjoy having a chance to work on space projects again.
In an unassuming corner of the house, Anne stepped onto the circle cut into the floor and let the scanner on the wall approve her palm print. The circle descended, taking her down into the tunnels beneath the island. The transport pod was just arriving as she reached the bottom, and she took a seat. Its protective bubble-like hull enclosed around her, and then it was racing along the tunnel on its own magnetic field, coming to a stop a mere few blurry seconds later. It enabled Scott to have the shortest commute time possible whenever there was an emergency, but even after months of usage, it still made Anne feel slightly queasy.
Another palm scanner called another small elevator down to her, and then she was rising, coming to a stop in her own, sunset-bathed living room. Anne never got tired of the sunsets, or the scenery in general from the wall of windows that gave them a panoramic view of the ocean. She knew she was damned lucky to live where she did, and that wasn’t even taking into account who she lived with.
Scott shot her a smile of greeting from where he was chopping up carrots in the kitchen that took up one end of the open-plan room.
“Hi,” he said, deftly wielding the knife without even looking at it, which made Anne almost cringe. “How was your day?”
Anne stepped off the elevator and dropped her tablet onto an armchair. “It was good. I had a productive conference call with Tim and the heads of R&D. Yours?”
“Fifty-eight hours without a rescue so far,” he reported. “Every time that happens I’m reminded that I don’t have any hobbies.”
She smiled at his tone. “Sure you do. What about guitar?”
“It depresses me,” he fired back lightly, sweeping the carrots into a pan of bubbling water.
Anne laughed, approaching him and rising up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “The guitar depresses you?”
He turned his head to peck her on the lips instead. “No, my ability on the guitar depresses me.”
“All the more reason to practice, love.”
“Can’t, I’m busy making you dinner,” he retorted smoothly.
Anne shook her head, smiling. “Well since it was my turn yesterday and it’ll be my turn again tomorrow, that seems fair to me.” She moved away from him to grab a glass, filling it with water and taking a sip.
“What are the others doing with the downtime?” Scott asked her. “I went for a run with Virgil this morning, but I haven’t heard from them otherwise.”
“Gordon was actually working on some modifications with Brains,” Anne reported. “Something to do with wanting his suit to protect him at greater depths. Alan had a heap of college work to do, so I didn’t see him much. I didn’t see Virgil much either, although I’m pretty sure he was talking to Cathy at one point. It sounded like they were rehearsing.”
Scott smiled knowingly. “Wow, at this rate Christmas is gonna be a musical extravaganza and not much else.”
“Just as well we’re having a quiet Thanksgiving, I guess,” Anne said with a shrug. “One can have too much of a good thing. Like my mother’s company.”
He chuckled, then looked a little guilty. “She’s your mom, she should come here for Christmas. Besides, we can’t invite Cathy and not her, that would be weird.”
“I know,” Anne relented with a huff. “I love her, but she’s hard work, that’s all. Hopefully it will just be like last year, and she’ll drink a whole bunch of sherry with Grandma T and fall asleep on the couch.” Looking at the various pots Scott had on the go, she changed the subject. “Can I help with anything?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“You can get out of the way.”
He said it cheekily with a wink. She tried hard to look annoyed, but couldn’t help but laugh. She did as he asked, retreating to one of the stools that lined the breakfast bar so they could continue their conversation.
They’d lived together for a year and a half now. Although it had technically been a bit of a gamble, as they hadn’t been able to spend much time together beforehand, it had felt like an easy decision to make. Barring a few small minor arguments over things that didn’t ultimately matter, every day had proved it to be a good decision. Anne still felt tense every time Scott was out on a rescue, but she was used to it by now. Sometimes, if her work allowed, she would venture out to the Tracys’ lounge to listen in on the comm chatter with whoever was left behind, breathing easier when Scott was on his way back.
Anne largely enjoyed the set-up she had with Tracy Enterprises, which allowed her to do the majority of her work from the office she’d been given in the main house. It involved multiple conference calls a day, plus regular visits in person, but in terms of how much work she got done, nothing much had changed. Since she was now capable of flying herself, she quite enjoyed the commute to L.A., which often gave her the opportunity to drop in on her sister, Cathy, who lived in her old apartment.
When dinner was nearly ready, Anne paid a visit to the bathroom, immediately catching sight of the candle in the middle of their little table when she returned to the lounge.
“What’s the occasion?” she asked, smiling at the picture it made.
Scott shrugged. “I found it in a drawer.”
“Oh. Well, it’s nice anyway.”
“I thought so.”
As they ate, they traded theories about the plot of a TV series they were currently watching, and the conversation spiralled into light-hearted but vehement disagreement about the main character’s ultimate fate. Anne was convinced he was going dark, whereas Scott was standing up for redemption. They even made a wager on the eventual outcome, agreeing on a full week of dinner-making duty for the loser. They clinked their glasses to seal the deal, each taking a sip from their grape juice as they smirked at each other. The Tracy boys all avoided alcohol unless shore leave rules applied, and Anne had taken to doing the same.
After they were done, they cleared the table and Anne made coffee, brewing a decaf for herself. Caffeine seemed to have no negative effects on Scott, a trait that she envied. She took hers over to the window, gazing out at the clear night. With practically no light pollution, she could enjoy the view of thousands of stars untainted by the side-effects of humanity.
Scott stepped up to her side, sliding a hand down her arm and gently taking her coffee cup from her. Placing it on the table, he said softly, “Can I, uh…can I talk to you for a second?”
Attention piqued, hoping she didn’t need to be concerned about anything, she nodded. “Sure.”
“I love you,” he began, looking earnestly into her eyes. “I love the life we have here, and I hope that you love it too.”
“Scott, you know I do,” she told him reassuringly.
“Good. I’m glad. That’s…really good,” he said articulately. “I wouldn’t change anything about our life…except maybe one thing. You fit in here, everyone loves you. You’re part of this family in every way that matters, but…I’d really like to make it official.” He drew a small box from his pocket and sank to one knee, opening the lid.
Anne’s mouth fell open in surprise, and she found her eye inevitably drawn to the ring on the black velvet cushion. It was white gold, featuring a blue topaz flanked by small, tasteful diamonds. She couldn’t help smiling. The shade of blue would have reminded her of him regardless of what the ring represented. She lifted her gaze to meet his vivid eyes, almost the same colour, feeling a lump form in her throat at the expression in them.
“Anne, will you marry me?”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth, when the emergency signal began to beep.
Scott let out a frustrated growl. “Oh, come on!”
Anne laughed, shaking her head. How could it have possibly happened any differently?
“This is yours,” Scott said hurriedly, pressing the box into her hands before scrambling to his feet and running for the elevator.
“Wait, don’t you want my answer?” she called after him.
He flashed her a grin. “Tell me when I get back.” He scanned his palm with one hand, activating his comm with the other. “John, what’s the situation?”
“It’s the earthquake site in New Zealand,” John reported, his voice floating up to Anne as Scott began to sink out of sight. “The authorities are requesting help with the relief work.”
The temporary floor panel that covered the gap when the lift was down cut off any further information John might have had. Left alone, Anne sighed heavily, but remained by the window. She could see her own wide smile reflected in it, and she cradled the box carefully in both hands. Was it bad etiquette to put the ring on before answering the question? She wasn’t sure. It felt strange, though, so she determinedly closed the lid, avoiding the temptation until he returned. She doubted there would be much suspense about her answer.
Slipping the box into her cardigan pocket, she stayed put until the ships had launched. She could always hear them, even if she didn’t always see them. That evening, however, she was rewarded with the sight of two sets of lights zipping away, one a fraction faster than the other. Thunderbirds 1 and 2, on their way to save lives.
She debated travelling over to the main island to sit with Jeff and Grandma, but decided to wait. Relief work could take all night. She’d continue with her evening and venture over if she felt anxious.
She tried watching a movie but felt too distracted to concentrate on it. It was just providing background noise. Sighing, she switched it off, checking the time. Too early for sleep. Reaching for her tablet, she pulled up the novel she was reading and attempted to settle into it.
It must have worked, as the next thing she knew, she was being woken by the beeping of her comm. A little disoriented from sleeping on the sofa, she sat up and activated it.
“Yes?”
“Sorry to wake you,” said Jeff, his hologram looking apologetic. “Can you come over to the house?”
Anne pushed her hair out of her face. “Sure. On my way.”
He vanished, and she got to her feet, yawning. Outside, first light had turned the sky a cold shade of blue, and she jolted to full alertness as she realised how much time had passed. Why was she being summoned to the house? Did she have grounds to be worried?
Regardless of whether she had grounds, she was worried. She shoved her feet into her shoes and dashed over to the elevator, scanning her palm and descending. Once she’d hurtled through the tunnels and emerged back up on the other side, her heart was thumping hard in her chest. Jeff, Brains and Grandma Tracy turned to look at her as she all but ran into the lounge. Their expressions were grim, which did nothing for her nerves.
“What is it?” she said breathlessly, skidding to a halt.
Jeff approached her, placing a hand on her arm. “Anne, there’s been an accident,” he said. His tone was largely calm, although there was a faint worried tremble underlying every word. “Scott and Alan were pulling survivors from a ruined building. Part of it collapsed. Scott was unable to get out in time. The others have taken him to the hospital but he’s unconscious. We’re flying over there in the civilian jets. We’re just waiting for John. He’ll meet us in the hangar, so let’s get moving.”
Struggling to take all the information in while panic tried to get in the way, Anne let herself be steered by Jeff.
“I’ll k-keep an eye on things,” Brains called after them.
“When you say ‘unconscious’…” Anne started to say, unhappy with the vagueness of the report. Unconscious for now but likely to wake soon? Unconscious and never going to wake again? Unconscious and…
“We don’t know,” Jeff said, and he sounded just as disgruntled as she felt.
Anne swallowed hard, focusing on the goal of reaching the hospital. She couldn’t allow herself to think about anything else.
In the hangar, the two civilian jets were in place, one the red-painted model that Scott had used to fly to Tracy Enterprises back before the secret was out, the other the black one she usually flew herself.
Jeff turned to her as they headed across the floor. “Do you want to come with me?”
Anne shook her head. “No, it’s fine, take Grandma T on ahead. John won’t be long, right?”
“By my calculations the space elevator should be docking any minute,” Jeff told her, glancing at his watch.
“Then we’ll be right behind you,” she said with a firm nod, trying to sound braver than she felt.
Jeff returned her nod, hurrying over to Grandma, who was standing impatiently by the red plane. There was a brief argument over who was going to fly, which Jeff promptly won, and then they were both in and taxiing out onto Thunderbird 2’s runway. Anne took a deep steadying breath, working on calming her taut nerves. She scrambled up into the black plane’s cockpit, powering up.
Less than two minutes later, a thud of footsteps heralded John’s arrival, and he leapt up into the plane with far more grace than she had.
“You okay to fly?” he asked her, not even out of breath.
“Yes, I’d rather be doing something,” she assured him, closing the canopy.
“Okay. I’m sending the coordinates to the computer,” he said, tapping some buttons on the wrist comm that went with his civilian clothes.
Anne received them, punching them into navigation and guiding the plane out of the hangar. She poured all her concentration into flying, still not a hugely confident pilot, although she was an adequately capable one. John didn’t speak much, which suited her just fine.
When they approached the hospital in Christchurch, Anne spotted Jeff’s plane parked up near Thunderbird 2, and she brought hers down vertically beside it. She and John hurried across the parking lot, weaving through cars, finally bursting into reception.
Anne was confronted with inevitable flashbacks of a similar dash two years ago, where she’d been blocked by an annoyingly-competent receptionist. That occasion had turned out pretty well eventually. She could only hope that it would be the same case again.
“We’re here to see Scott Tracy,” John said.
“Names?” the receptionist asked, glancing at a document on her tablet.
“John Tracy and Anne Ashton.”
“You’re expected. Follow the signs to…”
“It’s okay,” came Virgil’s voice as he appeared at their side. “I’ll take them.”
Busy, the receptionist nodded to him and looked to the next visitor.
Virgil was attracting a lot of attention, seeing as he was not only still in uniform, but covered in masonry dust, grime, and blood that didn’t seem to be his own.
“How is he?” Anne asked as they began to follow Virgil’s lead along the corridors.
“He took a nasty bump to the head. They had to relieve some pressure on his brain, but he stabilised pretty fast after that,” Virgil reported.
Anne exhaled in relief. Stable was good. Stable was progress in the right direction.
“Is he awake?” John put in.
Virgil didn’t answer right away, halting them in a small waiting area, and turning to face them wearing an expression that Anne really didn’t like.
“He’s awake,” he began.
Anne stared up into his face, her stomach tying itself in knots. It was the face of someone figuring out how to break bad news.
“But?” she prompted him.
Virgil sighed heavily, resting a hand on her arm much the same way his father had back at the island. “But,” he went on, “he’s suffered some memory loss. He doesn’t seem to remember anything from the last few years.”
Anne simply stared at him, her mind buzzing as she grasped what he was saying.
“But…” John’s voice held a frown. “That would mean that he doesn’t remember…”
The blood rushed in Anne’s ears, and her own voice sounded far away.
“Me.”