Chapter Text
Virgil looked over the horizon, it was a crisp cold afternoon, but the sky was blue and for once he wasn't rushing somewhere, it was all rather pleasant. He had left Scott in New York just after lunch, his own contribution to Tracy Industries done for now. Leaving Scott to pay the bill (younger sibling perk) he had hopped on a train to the aeronautical museum where their grandmother's small plane had been part of an exhibition on women in aviation. He was there to pick it up and fly it home, being one of the few machines on display that was capable of leaving under its own steam. Or so Virgil had thought, however, now the plethora of flashing warning lights across the dash were suggesting otherwise. Pulling up the flight plan, Virgil quickly requested permission to land at a small airstrip nearby. It was nothing more than a streak of tarmac and a couple of sheds, but for a man used to landing a cargo plane on the edge of an island in the middle of the ocean, it was as easy as pie.
Upon landing further investigation showed that it was a rather essential component that had died and needed a full replacement. He tried picking the brains of the mechanics in the maintenance sheds next to the airstrip, but the head scratching, tooth sucking and shakes of heads had been pretty emphatic. Their only suggestion had been to try contacting some specialist manufacturer further upstate, but even that was a long shot and it was unlikely anything would get delivered in at least 7-10 days, what with it being Christmas and all.
Christmas was always something of a moveable feast in the Tracy household. Usually the day itself crept up on them all, and more than once they had resorted to shifting celebrations to the following day. So the idea that deliveries might be affected for over a week came as a surprise. What Virgil wouldn’t give to have one of the islands fabricators right now.
John offered to send one of the other brothers out to pick him up, but Virgil was loath to bother them for something non-urgent. They could easily pick him up enroute if they needed him for a rescue. He could wait until everyone had had a chance for a reasonable sleep cycle rather than ousting anyone from their beds. Virgil told John not to worry, he would kip in the plane and speak to Brains when their time zones converged in a little more civilised manner. John agreed to the plan in principle, but offered a few amendments of his own. Firstly pinging him the details of a holiday rental apartment on the nearby small towns main street that was now booked in Virgil's name. Virgil smiled back, but John cut him off before he could advance too far down the soppy trajectory he was clearly headed. There was no need for Virgil to put his back out squashed in the back of the small plane when there were other options available. Virgil straightened up and gave John a little salute, and a “yessir” for good measure. John Stuck his tongue out, but did promise to pass on Virgil's request for technical assistance to Brains once the engineer surfaced.
Virgil grabbed his jacket, phone and wallet, everything else he had left with Scott to bring back from New York, which in hindsight hadn’t been such a great plan. He was so used to having all the essentials tucked away in the various storage compartments on ‘Two that he hadn’t given it much thought. He had ration bars and emergency foil blankets, but nothing so useful as a toothbrush. Pulling up a map on his phone he locked up the plane and headed in the direction of the town, mentally listing a few things he hoped to pick up at the nearest corner store to tide him over for his unscheduled stop.