Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Conrad Barnes had been delighted and astonished to make it through the rigorous selection process to join the team operating the space hub, his family not so much though, their concern being that he was a long way from home if ever anything should go wrong. The shift pattern was manageable, on average two to three weeks or so up on the hub, situated in geostationary position near the Moon, the remaining weeks at the shuttle terminal in Luton, a former commercial airport which now managed solely galactic cargo traffic from the UK, Nordic and Western European countries, less than an hour on the high speed monorail from his home in Slough.

He had made it a point to set up a regular video call with his family on the weekends he was in space, just to keep in touch. He was the youngest of four siblings and his brothers and sister often had shifts which conflicted with his time at home so he didn’t always see them much in person despite them living in the same town, if not the same house.

“Are you absolutely sure it’s safe up there?” asked his sister Ianthe doubtfully, twirling a long lock of her jet black hair around her left index finger, concern in her brown eyes. She and Conrad were the youngest – only two years separated them and, while she had been happy for her brother’s career success, she nonetheless lived in anxiety at the possibility of him being in danger and beyond her reach.

“Safe as houses, it’s no more dangerous than working at the hub terminal on Earth.” he replied.

“Except,” said Rowan, the oldest of the three sons, “If there’s a hole in the wall in the Luton terminal, the worst you get is a draught and maybe water when it rains. Up in space, when there’s a hole in the wall you get sucked out into a vacuum and die, Con!”

“We have loads of failsafes in place and regular drills, it’s fine. Now, what’s new with you guys?”

“Uh, actually, I have something to tell you. I guess it could wait until you’re back in a couple of weeks but...” smiled Ianthe. “Tom and I are getting married!”

“Oh, wow!” cried Jasper as Rowan and Conrad cheered and their parents, also on the video call, clapped happily, Ianthe having told them of the engagement a few hours earlier.

“Congratulations.” grinned Conrad, as Rowan asked “Are his kids okay with it?”

“Well, Archie’s seven and Isabella’s five so there’s a limit to what they really understand but we’ve talked to them about it a lot over the past six months since we started discussing it, him and me, and they seem to be happy with it, as does the rest of the family.”

“That’s awesome. Do you have a date in mind, given our totally incompatible diaries?” asked Jasper.

“We have a few, Tom’s mum works in events planning so has a list of venues she can contact once we’ve narrowed it down. It might have to be during the week, rather than a weekend but if everyone’s okay with that, it could be within the next few months! I’ll send you a poll so we can work it out.”

“Mid-week is good for me.” said Conrad, loving the excited twinkle in his sister’s eyes. “I haven’t requested any time off just yet and I’ve covered a couple of guys extra shift days recently so I’ve got leverage for holiday.”

They all continued chatting, Conrad noticing that Rowan was hesitant to talk about his work. With a little prodding, Rowan reluctantly mentioned that his station had been involved in a fire fight earlier in the week, rescuing a group of terrified school children stranded behind a wall of flame with their teacher.

Conrad smiled, managing to stifle the jealous thought of being, again, the insignificant and less successful child. Rowan could sense the resentment, having no annoyance in response because he could see how Conrad struggled against his feelings. He didn’t want to feel inferior to his siblings and they did everything in their power to make sure there was no comparison between them. They none of them bragged about their achievements and there was no false modesty but the undeniable truth was that, of the four of them, three of them regularly saved lives.

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The residential staff quarters for the twenty operating personnel on the Space Hub were not unlike a corporate apartment hotel with one room studios decorated and furnished in a neutral colour palette. Everyone had their own corner kitchen with a bar table and two low backed tall stools, a small combi fridge-freezer, microwave grill oven, a two ring halogen hot plate, sink, dishwasher and standard supplies of kitchen and dining wares. There was a staff laundromat as well as a private fitness suite. The only thing really missing was the view since the staff rooms were on the side of the Hub which faced the Moon so that was all anyone would see if they opened their shutters. Rather than hang bland prints on the walls or miscellaneous black and white photographs from some city or other unknown, the designers had installed digital frames so the room’s occupant could choose from a wide selection of high definition stock images or upload some of their own photos. The Hub ran to the standard 24 hour Coordinated Universal Time and designers had done what they could to generate a passable version of daylight for those staying for extended periods, and the medical team prescribed vitamin supplements to the controllers to make up for the days of lost fresh air and sunshine.

There was a single cushioned armchair and the bed was a pullout sofa which, unlike some of Conrad’s colleagues, he would usually fold away each morning, moving the small coffee table to the middle of the room to leave it looking tidy in case of visitors. Onboard, there was a foodhall run by a team of five chefs and open to the public, both staff and cargo crews passing through, with different counters serving a variety of foods, Italian, Lebanese, what one chef would insist on calling French haute cuisine but was a limited range of disappointing ham and cheese toasted sandwiches and some rather dry chicken stew and so on. Conrad had had a long conversation with Aubrey, the manager of the Asian counter, discussing the food he served and in particular the rather odd combinations and flavours, some considerably more authentic than others. Aubrey was initially inclined to ignore Conrad’s helpful comments, assuming he was some back seat expert whose knowledge of Asian food was limited to the Golden Lotus Chinese takeaway. It had come as some surprise when Conrad mentioned his grandfather was a Malaysian who had emigrated to Britain in his twenties so he did know a little of what he was talking about.

It had been a long and tiring week, but Conrad was looking forward to a couple of days off and a week at home. About to zip up his kit bag and head to the shuttle launch to return to Earth, he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Answering it, he greeted his superior, a tall, broad Scotsman called Charles with an impressive handlebar moustache.

“I come bearing bad news, I’m afraid.”

“Oh?”

“Harvey called in sick. He won’t be here for shift change. Julia will be able to cover for him but can’t be here before tomorrow’s shuttle run. Would you mind hanging on another day? We can adjust your holiday dates to start a day later?”

“Yeah, no problem. Do you need me down in the bays or up in the control booth?”

“Bays this morning as we have a lot of outgoing traffic and control this afternoon, if that’s alright?”

“Sure, I’ll grab some coffee and be there in ten minutes.”

“Great, you’re a star. Thanks!”

Conrad closed his door and sighed. He had really been looking forward to getting home and resting, but never mind, it was only putting it off by 24 hours. Stopping off at one of the coffee stands, he bought a medium milky coffee, paying with his employee card. All staff members had one, charged up at the beginning of each month with a certain number of credits which could be used for food and drink, the laundromat or the onboard shop. There were no duty free outlets, nor were there passport controls or customs, those checks were carried out on Earth at the exit and entrance terminals, but the shop sold things the average traveller might have forgotten to pack such as books, snacks for the journey, charge cables and so on. The head of purchasing, who had never set foot on the Hub, had suggested adding certain touristy items such as fridge magnets, tea towels and clothes but the CEO had shot down the idea, it was a work platform, not a stop on the way to some sunkissed holiday destination. And anyway, who would want to spend money on a “Dad went to the Space Hub and all he bought me was this lousy (fill in the blank)” t-shirt, mug or magnet?

Collecting the tablet from central control along with a wireless headset, Conrad headed to the docks to manage the first group of departures, no commercial passenger flights, all either cargo ships, transports taking workers to Moon bases, Mars colonies or mining units on Mercury or debris collectors responsible for gathering up the vast amounts of abandoned space junk which had been sorted at remote sites and taking it back to Earth if it could be repurposed.

He checked the radio frequencies for each of the ships due for takeoff and unmuted his microphone, calling the first on his list. “Sierra-Four-Five, cargo supply ship, this is Controller Barnes. You’re up for takeoff from bay Delta Three-Three. Direction Moonbase Alpha? Confirmed?”

“Controller Barnes, this is Sierra-Four-Five. Confirmation of direction and bay Delta-Three-Three.” replied the pilot, waving from his cockpit.

“Connect to comms channel six for exit guidance system. ARM?”

“ARM. Connecting to channel.”

At a nod from Conrad, the bright orange revolving lights flashed, the launch warning bell sounded and the ground controller driving a tug truck began to push the cargo ship into position, unhitching the truck and securing it in place at the rear of the launch bay once the ship was facing the inner exit door. Each bay had an outer and inner door large enough for ships to enter and dock, one opening out onto space and one onto the bay. A further pair of secure airlock doors for crews led from the bay to the Hub. The safety protocols, which could not be overriden, dictated that ships be manoeuvered into launch position while both inner and outer bay doors were closed. As soon as ships were in position, all personnel evacuated the bay, closing and locking the airlock security doors. As soon as the doors were sealed, the inner exit door opened, ships would proceed to the launch platform and, once in position, the inner door would slide shut and the outer door would open and the ship could safely launch without endangering the ground crew and controllers.

Sierra-Four-Five being safely away, Conrad repeated the same procedure for November-Victor-Nine-Six, direction Mercury mining unit and the five other ships on the departure manifest for the morning. Shortly before lunch, he oversaw the arrival and landing of three container ships, one of which required a more robust, armoured launch bay because of the nature of its cargo. On his way up to the control centre, he stopped off to buy something to eat, not feeling particularly hungry but knowing that he would need some sustenance for the rest of the day. Nothing really jumped out at him so he picked what he often chose, a chicken caesar salad wrap, sea salt and cider vinegar crisps and a skyr and granola dessert.

The afternoon was going as usual for the three men in the control room, Conrad, Charles and Mike, no incidents and nothing of note to report.

“This is Echo-One-Nine, requesting docking.”

“Echo-One-Nine, proceed to Dock Seven. Engage guidance system.” replied Conrad, watching as the ship moved into the correct trajectory for landing, when suddenly the controllers received a distress call.

“Emergency! This is Transport Alpha-Nine-Nine!”

“I read you, Nine-Nine, what’s the problem?”

“Our engine controls are failing, request immediate clearance to dock.”

“Copy that. Bay Two-One is nearest. I’ll clear you a path. Attention all space traffic, all ships divert from Bay Two-One and await further instructions.”

He watched as the ships approaching followed instructions and moved away. Nodding, Conrad murmured, “Good.”

Next moment, however, alarm signals sounded and screens indicated an incoming ship. “Bravo-Two-Four, I gave an order to divert!”

“Sorry Control, missed that. We’re getting a lot of interference.”

“You have to change course. Divert to Bay Two-Two. Two-Four, do you copy?”

“Copy that, but it’s gonna be tight!”

Conrad, Charles and Mike stared at the screens, hoping that Bravo-Two-Four would be able to land safely.

“No! No, no, no, no, no!” cried Conrad as a sudden vibration shook the Hub.

“Control? We made it but we hit something. How bad is it?”

Conrad looked at the screens and readouts, “Core is breached, coolant system is offline. We’re going into meltdown.”

Charles and Mike hurried from the control room to head to the muster stations and prepare the evac chutes and shuttles.

“Space Hub One? Come in! This is International Rescue. I’ve been monitoring your transmissions, do you need assistance?” John called over to Conrad.

“This is Controller Conrad. Our core is ruptured, the coolant unit is leaking and we’re going into meltdown. Apart from that, everything is fine.” he replied.

“You have an evac in progress.”

“Yeah, I’m driving the power controls to buy time until everyone’s out, but I’m only delaying the meltdown. I can’t stop it.”

John scrambled Alan who launched Thunderbird Three in record time, arriving at the Hub and carrying out his preliminary report, indicating that Conrad’s escape exit was compromised and that he couldn’t find another route in.

While he was unable to open the doors, Alan did manage to rig a connection to Thunderbird Three’s life support so at least Conrad wouldn’t asphyxiate while Brains, Scott and Virgil came up with a solution for the rescue.

“I’d invite you in but the place is a bit of a mess.” joked Conrad, once Alan had managed to activate a comms unit.

According to Brains, there was only one option to avoiding the meltdown - delivering a replacement coolant unit. However, Thunderbird Three could not be recalled to Earth to collect it without disconnecting Conrad’s life support. Therefore, the proposal was to convert Thunderbird Two from a Terrestrial to a Space craft, much to Virgil’s delight and Scott’s reluctance. The damaged unit was, luckily, exactly the same as one used on Tracy Island of which Brains had a backup so he could easily part with it temporarily, so long as they could bring back the damaged unit from the Hub for safe disposal.

Virgil and Alan managed to replace the cooling system, restoring power and stabilising the Hub’s systems, and while Alan remained behind to wait for the arrival of the repair crew, Virgil prepared to fly home with Conrad.

Re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere was more problematic than expected, Thunderbird Two’s heat shields, having already sustained damage on the outbound flight, were insufficient to protect them for the return journey. Scott urged Virgil and Conrad to eject and simply allow Thunderbird Two to burn up, it was just a machine which could easily be rebuilt.

Virgil refused, since they were carrying the old coolant unit which, if it exploded would release a devastating amount of toxic chemicals. Conrad suddenly had a brainwave, sprinting from the cockpit and down to the pod, colliding with corners and doorframes on the way. Although the unit no longer contained coolant enough for the entire Hub, it had just enough in its tank to freeze the Thunderbird’s hull, hopefully for long enough to get them through the worst of the outer atmosphere.

They splashed down, miraculously in one piece, and as Thunderbird Two rested briefly on a submerged sand bar while the boyancy balloons inflated to take them back to the surface, Virgil and Conrad laughed in relief. Gordon arrived shortly afterwards in case he was needed to tow the Thunderbird back to the Island and they checked in with Alan who let them know that the repair crew had launched from Space Hub’s New Zealand base in Wellington. Virgil ran a series of systems checks and called Brains.

“As expected, Thunderbird Two’s engines are too waterlogged to restart so we need to rig a system to get us back to the hangar.”

The cockpit was warm again after the icy chill circulated by the cooling unit so Conrad had taken off his helmet and gloves and was leaning his head back, eyes closed, running his fingers through his hair. “Stonehenge.” he said pensively.

“Stonehenge?” replied Virgil, along with Brains, Scott and Gordon who were listening in.

“Yes, moving those dolmens and menhirs around, they used tree trunks as rollers, pulling the stones along with rope, reusing the rollers, grabbing them from the back and running around, putting them at the front so if you have something lying around in your warehouse or storage that could do that. Or a boat launch, do live anywhere near water where you could get hold of one?”

“Near water? Yeah, we live on an island. That’s not public record though.” replied Virgil.

Resting his head against the seat, Conrad looked around the cockpit, languidly twirling his helmet.

“Do all these buttons actually have a function? I mean do they all do something or are they just set dressing to make it look impressive?”

“Hey!” laughed Virgil, “I thought you liked my ‘bird the best, now you’re being mean about her!”

Conrad smiled and swung his legs around in his seat so he was leaning his left side against the back rest and facing Virgil. Their eyes met and they held each other’s gaze in silence for a few seconds.

“She’s an amazing feat of engineering.” he murmured, closing his eyes. “Beautiful.”

“Conrad?” Virgil asked, concerned, “Are you okay?”

“Mm-hm. Just- just tired all of a sudden. I’ll be okay in a minute.” he replied, the blood seeming to quickly drain from his face.

Holding his lower lip between his teeth, Virgil moved towards Conrad, undecided whether or not to pull out his handheld med scanner. Placing the fingers of his left hand on Conrad’s right wrist to measure his pulse, Virgil was relieved to find it strong and steady and as Conrad stirred after a moment, Virgil sat back making a mental note to keep an eye on their guest for however long he would be with them.

Scott and Brains had set to work, with assistance from Max, using various components from Thunderbird Two’s many Pods and by the time Gordon had towed Thunderbird Two into position, there was a ramp gently sloping into the water at the end of its usual runway with an adapted submerged elevator car. It had flotation tanks attached, partly filled, to give it balance under the surface and Brains carefully navigated it under the centre of Thunderbird Two, activating the electromagnets he had installed which attached it to the cahelium hull. The trees had folded down, the hangar door was raised and long lengths of chain and wire rope were stretched along the runway, attached to a hydraulic crane in the hangar.

Virgil opened the ceiling hatch and activated the elevating platform, raising it until his head and shoulders were out of the cockpit and in the fresh air.

“How are you planning on getting us from here to there?” he yelled across to Scott, standing next to Brains at the end of the runway and pointing to where they were bobbing in the shallower water.

“Hold that thought!” Scott yelled back, as John remotely flew Thunderbird One round the island, hovering over the runway for Scott and Brains to attach the rope ends to a winch hook dangling from the fuselage. Gordon had surfaced in Thunderbird Four and had swum round from the aft hatch to sit on the roof of his floating submarine, watching the progress.

Thunderbird One rose and moved to hover over Thunderbird Two as Virgil hoisted himself out and walked back and forward across the roof, trying to decide which anchor points would be best to attach the wire ropes to, having already decided that hitching anything to the variable auxiliary intake would likely rip it to pieces, requiring a significant amount of repair. Gordon had showily swan dived off Thunderbird Four and was leisurely treading water, examining the hull.

“How’s it looking down there?” called Virgil.

“Gimme a sec!” Gordon replied, taking a deep breath and diving below the surface. Conrad had joined Virgil on the roof, wondering whether he ought really to just keep out of the way. He looked over the side and began to frown.

“Shouldn’t Gordon have resurfaced by now?”

“I’ve always suspected he’s part dolphin, the amount of time he can stay under for.”

“Don’t dolphins need air to breathe though? They don’t have gills.”

Before the pair could get distracted by the fish versus water mammal debate, Gordon splashed to the surface.

“I assume we’re hitching to Thunderbird Two rather than the elevator car? If we can detach the heat shield, you can probably hook up around the forward VTOL thrusters and onto the chassis, unless Brains reckons the shield’s bolted on tight enough to put up with towing. We can hitch up around the aft primary thrust nozzles if you want four separate points of connection or do we cross cables underneath for a more supported lift?”

Discussions batted back and forward until they decided that they would hook onto the heatshield and the thrust nozzles. John lowered the winch and Gordon grabbed the rope ends, diving down to attach them as agreed, resurfacing and giving a thumbs up. Virgil and Conrad dropped back down into the cockpit, closing the hatch and strapping in as Gordon fired up his engines and moved back out of the tow zone.

The crane was a bit squeaky but nonetheless slowly and easily dragged Thunderbird Two up the ramp and onto dry land where Brains was able to fire the elevator car engine and remotely drive the stricken cargo ship into its hangar. He brought it to a stop over the turntable and called to Virgil to engage manual controls and deploy the hydraulic legs to get the Thunderbird standing up. Once it was in a stable position, Brains removed the elevator car, which would need a thorough drying out and probably new suspension, so that Virgil could drop the Pod and open all hatches to let the water run out of his engines and storage compartments. Given that most of the sensors and electrodes were damp, they weren’t necessarily the most reliable so Virgil decided to just switch everything off and come back another time.

On the ground, Brains had already opened up the Pod and was scanning the coolant unit to see what, if any, of it could be reused or if he would have to meticulously dispose of the whole thing. Virgil and Conrad stopped to chat, Virgil staring at the the unit and wondering how Conrad had managed to hook the pipes up to the Thunderbird’s cooling system.

“Those things are super heavy! How did you even manage to lift them?” he asked in awe.

“They’re not that heavy, are they? Just bulky really. Hooking them up while we were being so shaken by the turbulence was the bigger challenge.”

“I’m impressed you were able to make it work – that was some seriously quick thinking.”

Conrad smiled, embarrassed by the compliment, and followed Virgil as he led the way up to the villa.

“Are you hungry?” he called over his shoulder, turning a corner into the sunny kitchen. “Take a seat and I’ll get some coffee on.”

He waved at the table and searched one of the cupboards for his jar of coffee grounds.

Scott joined them, “Or, Virgil, how about I make the coffee and you go get changed out of your flight suit?”

Patting his brother’s shoulder as he passed, Virgil headed in the direction of the bedrooms, walking slowly and looking forward to a hot shower and solitude to think. With such a large, active family and a high level of busy-ness, it was often difficult to find time apart to mull and meditate. Locking his bedroom door, he unbuckled his boots and kicked them off, shrugged off his suit and stuffed it into the laundry chute then turned on the rain shower. Stepping under the water, he rotated his shoulders to ease the stiffness that had set in and leaned forward, resting first his hands then his forehead flat against the cold tile, groaning as he felt his mind running a mile a minute. Closing his eyes, fresh memories of the day flashed before him, most frequently Conrad smiling and the sound of his laughter.

It took Virgil’s breath away that he should be feeling such an instant connection and whether it was an actual attraction to Conrad, he wasn’t sure. After the painful breakup of his last and only real relationship, he had worked hard to make his heart invulnerable, never getting too close, keeping away from anyone and anything which might open him up to more pain. It wasn’t the first time he had felt that spark, but usually it faded quickly enough and with any luck Conrad would be gone within twenty four hours and that would be that.

“No Virgil”, he thought, raising his face to the shower and letting the hot water splash over him. “No letting our guard down. No getting involved. That’s what we agreed.”

He turned off the shower and half dried his hair, enough for it to maintain its pointy shape but still a little damp, then dressed quickly in his customary white t-shirt, jeans and red shirt. He jogged down towards the lounge, stopping out of sight to take a deep breath and a moment after joining them, they checked in with Alan.

“Good to see you guys, everything up here is stable. Repairs are under way.” he replied.

Conrad sighed regretfully, “If I hadn’t made that mistake, the Hub wouldn’t even need repairs. I should’ve reacted quicker.”

“Hey! Your quick thinking up there saved us, and Thunderbird Two.” said Virgil sharply, unhappy that Conrad should be blaming himself for a cargo ship malfunction which was in no way his fault.

Conrad smiled at him, holding the gaze until Scott asked what his plans were. He fully intended to go back up to the Hub, recent near death experience not withstanding, but first he would go to Slough and see his family for a while, which reminded him he ought to give them a call to let them know he was unharmed.

It was late in the afternoon, which was around breakfast time in Britain, when he started a videocall with any of them who might be available, sitting at the patio table overlooking the pool.

From her seat at the kitchen table, Ianthe leaned towards the camera and frowned. “Where are you? That doesn’t look like the Hub, unless it’s a new background in one of your frames.”

“No, uh… look” Conrad replied, slowing moving his phone to give them a panorama of the island. “Now, everything’s fine, everyone’s alive-”

“Are you on an island? Like, a real one?”

“Yes. There was a slight problem on the Hub, just teeny tiny, barely a scratch but, as I said, everyone’s okay, they’re repairing it as we speak so it’ll be good as new.” Conrad proceeded to give a brief summary of what had happened.

“Oh. My. God!” cried Rowan, “This is totally what I was saying. Safe as houses my arse!”

“It is safe!” Conrad insisted. “And the likelihood of it happening again is near zero.”

“But not zero.” said Ianthe. “Now, when are you coming home?”

“Um, tomorrow, I think. It’ll depend on when they can drop me at the mainland airport nearest here. Wellington, I guess, or Auckland.”

“We can fly you home, no problem.” said Virgil, walking from the kitchen with a large tumbler of water and a bowl of potato chips, handing Conrad the glass and leaving the bowl on the table.

“That’s kind, but I don’t want to put you to any trouble.” replied Conrad smiling up at him.

“Look, I have to go, I’ve got to be at the hospital in about half an hour but I’ll see you when you’re here.” Jasper waved and disconnected.

Virgil had returned to the villa and found sundry tasks to keep him hovering near the door until Scott gave a huffy sigh.

“Either go out there and sit down next to him and talk or stay in here and do something useful.” he hissed, waving a towel in the direction of drying dishes.

A minute or two later Conrad finished his call and came into the kitchen to refill his glass.

“I’ll get a right telling off from all of them when I get home. They’re always worried about me being on the Hub. Is there anything I can be doing to help with dinner or something, I do feel like I’m imposing.”

“It’s no imposition, Conrad, and we’re all very happy to have you here.” she said with a smile and a tighter hug than he expected. “How about you relax in the sunshine out there?” she suggested, giving him a gentle push back towards the patio, turning to Virgil and raising her eyebrows, jerking her head in Conrad’s direction. With a small smile, Virgil dutifully followed their guest.

After a dinner of fresh carbonara pasta, garlic breads and salads, the family and Conrad relaxed in the sunken lounge. Around the round coffee table there were three two-seater sofas, two pairs of armchairs and a single soft armchair matching one of the sofas, Virgil was on dishwasher duty and by the time he arrived in the lounge, where the vexed question of what movie to watch was still unanswered, there were only a couple of seats spare on the sofas which gave the best view of the screen. Sally was sitting next to Conrad who had his hands out, wrapped round with the wool that she was winding into a ball for her next crochet project, pattern as yet undecided but she had seen the chunky rainbow yarn on special offer and bought half a dozen balls in preparation.

Scott was lying on another sofa, an arm curled under his head with a book in his free hand, on the verge of dozing off. The sets of individual armchairs, one pair of which were part of the Thunderbird Three launch sequence, were comfortable enough but not really so convenient for a lazy movie night which left only one spare sofa. Virgil flopped down, glancing over at Conrad and Sally chatting.

“So have we made a decision?” asked Gordon, joining them and scanning the room for a seat.

“Not that I’m aware, and as I’m flying to New York first thing tomorrow, I think I ought to get some rest so goodnight all, see you when I get back.” said Scott, jumping to his feet and leaving for his room, patting Gordon on the stomach as he passed. The aquanaut vaulted over the back of the sofa Scott had been sprawled across and snuggled down murmuring about the niceness of pre-warmed cushions. Virgil managed not to scowl at being denied a space closer to Conrad, consoling himself that, with a shift in his posture, he could look over at him without being noticed, particularly once the lights would be dimmed for the movie. Perhaps Conrad sensed he was being watched, but he glanced around for a moment, caught Virgil’s eye and smiled which made his heart rate jump. In confusion, Virgil busied himself with his left sock which had a hole in the toe.

Gordon was the family’s champion movie picker, with an ability to almost always choose exactly what they were in the mood for so he selected an action comedy, one they had watched many times already but still made them laugh, and while he set up the holoscreen and scrolled through the previews Sally went down to the kitchen to make two huge bowls of popcorn. Virgil jogged up to his room returning a couple of minutes later having switched his contact lenses for glasses. Conrad opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it.

“What?” asked Virgil.

“No, nothing. I was about to start a very dead end conversation. You know, ‘Oh, I didn’t know you wore glasses.’ ‘Oh well, as a matter of fact, yes I do so now you know.’ End of conversation.” he said with a short laugh.

“I try watching a whole movie without lenses or glasses my eyes will be bloodshot and stinging to hell in the morning.”

A little over an hour later, Alan returned from the Hub, letting Conrad know that everything would be back to working order and operations would, normally, be able to resume in 48 hours. Tired and hungry, he went to the kitchen and helped himself to leftovers then crept softly up the stairs towards his room, waving at his family as he passed. When Gordon checked in on him no more than forty minutes later, he found him sprawled untidily on the floor and fast asleep as so often happened. Tucking a pillow under his head and pulling the duvet from the bed, he tucked it around his younger brother, tiptoeing away without waking him.

As the end credits rolled, Sally stood and stretched. Virgil had at some point during the movie shifted from sitting up to lying down and had dozed off.

“Conrad!” Gordon whispered, beckoning him over. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure, anything.”

“I put my back out a few days ago on a mission and Dr Tracy, aka Grandma, has forbidden heavy lifting. Is there a way you could help me get Virgil up to his room?”

“Okay, although wouldn’t it be easier just to wake him?” asked Conrad.

Gordon gave a soft snort of laughter in answer.

“Ah, the proverbial log sleeper, is he? Um, alright then.”

Walking over to the sofa on which Virgil slept soundly, Conrad crouched down and wrapped Virgil’s left arm around his neck to give him easier access to slide his arms under his shoulders and knees. Getting himself balanced, he stood, lifting Virgil and following Gordon – who was impressed that Conrad could lift his big brother with such apparent ease - from the lounge and up the stairs to the bedrooms. Gordon opened Virgil’s door and moved over to where the wide single bed stood, pulling the duvet down. Conrad walked around the bed and gently lowered Virgil who barely stirred when his body met the cool sheet.

Conrad looked at Gordon and whispered “Glasses?”

“Yeah, I’ll take it from here. Thanks.” he replied, waiting until Conrad had left to carefully peel Virgil’s red shirt and thick blue jeans off, covering him back up with the thin duvet and a blue and red plaid blanket. The brothers had all done this for each other at some point, even Alan had helped put Scott to bed once or twice when he had burned himself out of energy entirely and been found unconscious at the desk, so there was no embarrassment or humiliation about it. The glasses were placed on the bedside table where Gordon knew his brother would look first and he opened the sliding balcony door a couple of inches to let in the cool breeze he knew Virgil needed when sleeping.

Out on the landing, Conrad met Sally who had a small bundle of clothes tucked under her arm and invited him to follow her down to one of the guest bedrooms.

“Now, you only have what clothes you’re standing up in so I’ve trawled through my spares closet. Here are some clean pyjamas and a change of clothes for tomorrow if you want to use them. There’s a new toothbrush and what have you in the bathroom through that door. Scott and I may have left by the time you wake tomorrow so, again, thank you for keeping Virgil safe. I don’t know how we’d get by without him. Help yourself to whatever you need and I hope to see you again soon.”

Conrad smiled and thanked Sally for her warm welcome as she rose on her toes to hug him and plant a kiss on his brow. Softly closing the door, he looked around the room, noting that he had a double bed whereas Virgil seemed to sleep in a single, which struck him as odd but he supposed the family must have moved here when the brothers were much younger and the idea of wives and girlfriends was far in the future. The guest room also had a two seater sofa with a blue and turquoise throw blanket draped over the back; there was even a balcony and pulling back the curtain, he looked out and saw the waxing gibbous moon reflected on the distant rippling waves. Feeling sleepy, but not physically tired enough for bed, he wrapped himself up in the blanket and sank down onto the outdoor armchair, the night air cooling his warm face. Running his fingers through his hair, he tried to order his thoughts. Usually when his brain was this fizzy and full of activity he would go to the gym and run as many miles as it took for his hands to start shaking and then one mile more but he wasn’t aware of there being a treadmill on the island, although there must be some fitness equipment somewhere. He also had no knowledge of the island’s geography and wasn’t about to risk himself by going for a midnight jog in the dark without proper running shoes.

Shapes flitted around in the dark sky, bats more than likely, he thought to himself. The island, or at least the parts of it he had seen in the few hours he had been there, was beautiful but entirely remote and impractical. Surely they must feel quite isolated with no other land in sight. What about those days when no-one feels like cooking? No way of calling in a home delivery order. How about a social life? Certainly Scott would be travelling a lot since he was company head for Tracy Industries, but what about the others? What did they do about friends? Or lovers. The villa was spacious and open plan, probably the only rooms with doors were the bedrooms so not a huge selection of private corners for stolen moments. Did all the brothers have single beds like Virgil, Conrad wondered.

Conrad stared at the turn his mind had taken, particularly since his thoughts included images of Virgil’s sleeping face. He gripped the blanket more firmly with both hands, scolding himself for almost allowing himself to start fantasising about Virgil. No doubt all of the iR team had to deal with their rescuees getting all dewy eyed about them, he dreaded to think about the fan mail they must receive on a daily basis.

“If I don’t try going to sleep now, I never will tonight.” he said, standing and giving himself a little shake.

As he undressed and picked up the pyjamas, he wondered briefly who the original owner was, judging from the size probably not Gordon or Alan, but tiredness was finally stealing over him so he quickly finished getting changed, cleaned his teeth, washed his face and promised himself he’d try out the shower when he woke. The bed was comfortable, more so than the one he slept in on the Hub, and within minutes, he was sound asleep, his internal clock waking him just before seven the following morning. He had left the curtain pulled back and the sky outside was streaked vibrant orange. Climbing from the bed, he walked over to the balcony doors and slid them open, taking a step outside, startling an unusual looking bird who had perched on the balcony rail.

Returning inside, he tried out the shower, much superior to both the Hub and the bathroom in Slough, and rubbed his stubbly face, wondering whether a razor might be tucked in the wall cabinet. Having a successful rummage, finding the razor and a bar of soap, he shaved and combed his hair then dressed in the borrowed clothes and quietly left his room to go downstairs to the kitchen and make a brew of coffee.

A little over twenty minutes later, Virgil clumped down the stairs, still in pyjamas, his hair ruffled from sleep, eyes barely open. Usually he'd have put his contact lenses in before coming down but hunger and the need for coffee was strong so he had grabbed his glasses instead.

"Is that proper coffee?" he called from the foot of the kitchen stairs. "It smells so good I could kiss yo- oh, uh... Good morning Conrad... Uhm."

Conrad smiled across at Virgil.

"A kiss won't be necessary, just a thank you will do. I used to work at a coffee shop while doing my training for space control. Here."

He handed a steaming mug to Virgil, their fingers accidentally touching, their eyes met and both smiled awkwardly.

Turning to sit down, trying to hide the blush rushing to his cheeks and ignore his raised heart beat, Virgil sipped the coffee.

"Delicious. Thank you."

"You're welcome." replied Conrad, sneaking a look over his shoulder at the tousled first responder with those deep brown eyes. “I hope you don’t think I’m overstepping, I did ask your grandmother before she and Scott left about rummaging through your kitchen cupboards.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s today.” said Virgil.

Scott and Sally had flown to New York before dawn for one of the board meetings Scott had to attend as CEO of Tracy Industries and, in Sally’s case, a medical appointment. A recent round of standard blood and medical tests had yielded some inconclusive results. She had reassured her family that she felt absolutely fine, but to her grandsons, having experienced so much loss in their lives, even the slightest possibility that her health might be affected in any way made them all anxious and none of them would rest easy until she had seen a specialist.

Alan was still asleep after his late night, Gordon was at home, the standby pilot for Thunderbird One if John had too much to handle to remotely pilot it. Scott wasn’t too keen on the idea but they were all fully trained to operate every Thunderbird and the contents of each Pod, so whenever any of the brothers was incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, they had enough skill bases covered to handle any rescue. It wouldn’t be ideal perhaps, and sometimes it was preferable to simply come offline and hand over to the GDF and local units rather than be understaffed and underequipped.

“I’m sorry we’re so short staffed we can’t fly you home until later.” Virgil continued. “I think it’s just you, me, Brains and Gordon here, Kayo was at a friend’s bachelorette party in London these past two days and is staying over with Lady Penelope. Will you be okay to wait until tomorrow? I mean… not that you have a huge choice, but-”

“How far is the mainland, a swimmable distance?” he asked innocently.

“Are you kidding me? Can you see the main- oh, you are kidding me.” Virgil grinned.

“It’s fine, really. I’ll just need to borrow a bit of desk space to fill in my reports and my boss wants to have a videocall to discuss the situation.” replied Conrad. “I’m making some eggy bread for breakfast, would you like some?”

“Some what?” asked Virgil.

“I think he means French toast.” replied Gordon, joining them in the kitchen having finished his early morning workout routine.

“French toast?” laughed Conrad. “I have cousins living in Brittany so I spent a lot of summers there growing up and not once did I ever see this on a French menu!”

Gordon brewed some green tea and assembled a cocktail of fresh berries with a sprinkle of cinnamon for his toast while Virgil and Conrad went for a second round of coffee and a stack of grilled bacon. Minutes after finishing their meal, John called to request Virgil’s assistance with a rescue on a rickety oil rig.

“Kayo and Lady Penelope are already onsite.”

“What? I thought they were in London!” cried Gordon in alarm.

“Hey, don’t panic. They’re more than able to take care of themselves. They must have Shadow and Parker’s with them so they have all the FAB1 tech as well.” Virgil reassured him, “I’m on my way John!”

Despite Virgil’s optimism, Gordon nonetheless looked concerned, wandering from the kitchen to the steps down to the pool to watch Thunderbird Two launch, only returning to the house once it was out of sight.

“Is it always like this?” asked Conrad. “Worrying about them as long as they’re away?”

“Always. We don’t take unnecessary risks – or at least we try not to – but there are rescues where we come a lot closer to serious trouble than we’d like. Then again, just crossing the road is fraught with danger.”

“Well, that’s true.”

Gordon looked up at Conrad and cocked his head to one side, he knew that his older brother was both very invested in his work for the family organizations and at the same time desperately lonely. Now, in the middle of their home, stood a tall, dark and handsome stranger rescued from space that Virgil couldn’t keep his eyes off and while Gordon enjoyed pranks, he knew how to read a room. If indeed his brother was beginning to relax his vigilance, not before time either, then any potential blossoming of a friendship should be encouraged.

“Where are we?” asked Conrad, changing the subject and looking out over the island to the azure ocean beyond.

“Our nearest neighbors are the Kermadec Islands.”

“Oh, good. That clears that up. Thank you.” replied Conrad brightly.

Gordon laughed, “You have no idea where the Kermadecs are, do you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Think New Zealand and… Actually, do you wanna see the islands more closely?”

“Sure, but don’t you have to stay here until the rescue’s over, in case they need your help?”

“They have Thunderbird Two and Shadow, along with FAB1 and John can remotely pilot Thunderbird One if they really need it. So… guided tour of the islands?”

“Ready when you are!”

Gordon led the way back into the villa and down flights of stairs to a dock where a small submersible was floating at the end of a metal walkway.

“Four isn’t really built for taking people visiting, there’s only one seat in the main compartment, but I had this designed as a civilian project. It was basically just to test various materials and mechanical processes but it works well as a sunlight zone submersible. The shell could probably hold up to twilight zone pressure but I wouldn’t want to test it much deeper.”

He led the way through the open top hatch and down a short ladder into the main control cabin which could seat four people and had panoramic windows. What followed was a three hour cruise during which Gordon was delighted to show off the area, introducing Conrad to the different marine species they sailed past. He was also able to answer the mystery of the bird on the balcony.

“Oh, that’s a tūī bird. They’re rare, and special. According to legend, the god Tanemahuta asked all the birds for a volunteer to go to live on the forest floor to eat up all, like, insects and stuff but any bird that volunteered to do so would lose their pretty feathers and the ability to fly. The tūī birds who didn’t volunteer were gifted the little white throat feathers by the gods as a mark of their pride and cowardice.”

“And the bird that volunteered to live on the forest floor became the kiwi?” Conrad guessed.

“Yeah, I love local legends!” grinned Gordon.

Checking the time, he called John and was pleased to hear that the rescue was complete and Virgil and Kayo both on their way home.

“They’re likely gonna be hungry so let’s get cooking!” Gordon suggested as they returned to the island.

As it was a warm January day, they prepared the ingredients for various different bruschetta toppings along with large bowls of fresh green mixed salad and dressings, the actually cooking wouldn’t take long once the rescuers had returned and changed into casual gear. Scott had informed John and Gordon that he and Grandma were on their way home, meetings complete and with a clean bill of health, but would not likely be there in time to eat with everyone else.

---

One of the downsides of his family living in Slough, Conrad recalled, was usually it was a serious pain in the arse to get there from any of the local airports. London Heathrow was the closest and there were no direct trains from there. For some stupid reason, he would either have to take the Heathrow shuttle to Paddington station and then grab a train out from there, or try to avoid London entirely by getting off at Hayes & Harlington station for a connecting train. It was the 2060s, he thought incredulously, why was it so complicated? That was until Scott had a brainwave. There was a meeting coming up with one of their global manufacturing partners in the UK and since the purpose of the meeting was more in line with Virgil’s engineering experience, why not?

“Conrad’s wanting to head home and the office is in Reading so just down the road. You could drop him off on your way? Take the Microjet?”

Virgil thought for a moment. “Ok, sure, you good to go after breakfast tomorrow?”

Conrad nodded, hoping to get home as soon as possible, if for no other reason than he had no spare clothes and he quickly fired a text to his mother to let her know when to expect him. He usually spent most of his working time up on the space hub, only returning to Earth a few days each month to his parents’ home in the Salt Hill district while he saved up for a downpayment on his own flat. He paid them a small amount each month as contribution to rent, utilities and food, as did Ianthe who lived there full time. His brothers, Rowan and Jasper, shared a flat in Langley, about ten minutes drive from the family home. There was still plenty of space for all of them in the three storey house with its original six bedrooms, but the eldest boys had both felt more relaxed with a place of their own just as long as they could drop in on Mum and Dad for Sunday lunch – work schedules permitting.

The detached three storey house was large, with a kitchen-dining room, large living room and a small study on the ground floor. On the first floor were four bedrooms and a bathroom and the second floor had two large rooms, each stretching the width of the house, and a small shower room and separate toilet. Originally, they had been Rowan and Jasper’s rooms but when they had moved out, and Ianthe had requested to stay on, they all agreed that she should move to the top floor and turn one of the bedrooms into her own lounge space.

It took less than five hours aboard the microjet to make the journey from Tracy Island to the private jet terminal at Heathrow, landing early in the evening, and if either Virgil or Conrad had been concerned about an awkward atmosphere alone together, those concerns were unfounded. There were no long, uncomfortable silences, no having to explain punchlines of jokes. Their conversations, such as they were, were not deep and philosophical and it wasn’t as though they were making an effort to get to know each other, both assuming that when they said goodbye, that would be it. Virgil had arranged for a hire car from the airport and was happy to drop Conrad at home before driving on to Reading and the hotel the local office administrator had booked.

Virgil stopped the car outside Conrad’s house with some difficulty given the unusually high number of cars parked on both sides of the road. It was December which meant his parents had decorated their front garden with their usual Christmas ornaments, each several feet high, illuminated and frankly gaudy but the neighbours loved them and frequently stopped by to take selfies.

“Thank you again, for everything.” he smiled.

Virgil gave a self deprecating shrug, “That’s what we’re here for. Take care of yourself. Have a great Christmas and New Years?”

“Will do. You too!”

They paused, shook hands – the car was a compact mini cooper so not much room for hugging, and with a wave over his shoulder, Conrad walked away up the path to his front door. Virgil watched for a second until he was sure Conrad was out of sight, then with a sigh of relief, he rested his head on the steering wheel for a moment, sat up, started the engine and drove away.

Conrad automatically patted his pockets before realising he’d left his keys, along with his phone, up on the space hub. His press on the doorbell was answered within seconds by his mother Joanne who flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Conrad could hear music and voices from the lounge and assumed his parents were throwing a Christmas party for the neighbours.

“Hi guys. Oh! Sorry, don’t mean to intrude, I’ll just head up to my room.” smiled Conrad, moving towards the staircase.

“No Conrad, this party is for you.” called Ianthe from the lounge doorway, hurrying to him.

“Me? Why?” he replied, dropping his bag by the door and walking to the lounge, stopping abruptly when he saw that not only his parents and siblings were there, but also those of his grandparents, aunts and uncles who lived nearby.

“Coz you’re fucking legend. That’s why.” replied Rowan, the firefighter, who at 6’6” stood four inches taller than Conrad and considerably broader across the shoulders. He pulled Conrad into a warm hug and softly clapped him on the shoulder.

“Yeah,” added Jasper, the paramedic brother, “Gaily sacrificing yourself so your colleagues would be able to get out safely and make it back to Earth in one piece? That’s, like, superheroic stuff, bro.”

“Oh, that. Right.” replied Conrad awkwardly, turning to his sister. “Is Tom coming so I can congratulate both of you on the engagement?”

“Nope, told him to piss off.”

“What?”

“Not permanently, just tonight. I know he’s technically on his way to becoming family but I wanted it to be just us tonight. Also, it’s Thursday so his kids have school tomorrow and Archie has cub camp this weekend.”

Excusing himself for a few minutes, Conrad retrieved his bag from the hall and jogged up to his room to change out of his space suit – he had returned the borrowed clothes with thanks before leaving Tracy Island. Thinking for a moment that the bed in his room was larger than Virgil’s, he stopped, ran his fingers through his hair and tried some meditative deep breathing. So, yes, he met a really charming, funny and good looking guy but said guy rescued people every day and there was nothing special about him, Conrad, to mark him out from the hundreds of other people who crossed iR’s path on a daily basis. It was nice while it lasted but he had to face reality, and that reality was that – short of drilling a hole in one of the Space Hub’s outer walls - there was no scenario where he would meet Virgil again, lightning never really strikes twice.

While he felt a little embarrassed about being the centre of attention at the family party, it was nevertheless an enjoyable evening since he never spent as much time with them as he really wanted, despite them living so near to one another and soon Ianthe would be preparing to move away from Slough entirely, to go down to Cambridgeshire once she married.

---

Jasper was first up the next morning and was already preparing breakfast in the kitchen with music playing from his bluetooth speaker. Given their day jobs, healthy eating and plenty of exercise were usually the order of the day. The only exception, though, was that day in a blue moon when Jasper felt like cooking up a full English breakfast. Today was that day. He padded around the kitchen, wearing pyjama trousers and an old tshirt from one of his many fundraising running races, fetching sausages and bacon from the fridge, a loaf of sliced bread and tins of baked beans from one of the cupboards. He turned to look over his shoulder when he heard footsteps, and grinned at Conrad who had slept like a log and was now in search of a drink, tea or coffee, whichever was quicker.

“Coffee’s made, no guarantee of quality but there’s lots of it, I prioritised quantity.”

Conrad smiled back, poured himself a large mugful and took a sip.

“So?” asked Jasper.

“Honest truth?”

“Maybe?”

“Nice.”

“That bad, eh? You hungry?”

“Starving. Um. Just, er, question. What you said last night?”

Jasper looked at him, perplexed, not sure what of the many things he’d said the previous evening Conrad was referring to.

“You said… gaily. It’s just… Did you mean gaily? Because, look, the thing is…. I’m…” Conrad took a deep, shaky breath and lowered his voice a little. “Jas, I’m gay.”

“Yeah, we know.” his brother replied nonchalantly, tearing open a pack of sausages.

“‘We’?” Conrad asked in surprise.

“Uh huh.” said Rowan, entering the kitchen, also wearing pyjamas, hair sticking up in all directions, rubbing his eyes.

“You think we didn’t know?” asked Ianthe with a gentle smile, having crept down the stairs after Rowan.

Conrad laughed in relief, “You all know I’m gay!”

“As a fucking picnic basket, mate!” chuckled Jasper, handing the coffee pot and a mug to Ianthe.

“I can’t believe you guys never said anything.”

“Babe, are you kidding?” asked Ianthe, sitting down at the kitchen table, trying to rub a few last traces of mascara from her eyelashes. “In all your 24 years, you’ve never talked about girls, shown any interest in girls whatever.”

“Yeah, and the posters that you plastered around your bedroom growing up? We’ve all known since you were, like, twelve. So although we knew, it wasn’t kind or fair of us to force you to say anything if you didn’t know or weren’t ready so we just decided to give you time.” said Rowan, slotting bread into the toaster and pressing the on switch.

“I’m sorry I never told you earlier.”

“Was it us? Me and Mum?” asked Graham from the kitchen doorway where he was leaning against the frame. “I’m so sorry if it was, that we said or did something to make you think you couldn’t come out and, well, come out.”

“No, Dad, it’s not you. It’s… I can’t explain it.”

Graham walked across and laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. “No explanation needed. You’re loved by this family more than we can say.”

“So…” began Ianthe with a mischievous twinkle. “You have your eye on someone?”

“Ianthe!” yelped the three brothers in unison.

“He hasn’t said no.” she grinned.

“If the conversation is going in that direction, I’ll retire.” said Graham, bending down to kiss Conrad’s head and leaving the kitchen carrying two steaming coffee mugs.

“Do you though?” asked Rowan, wiggling his eyebrows and sitting down opposite Conrad.

“You two are incorrigible.” said Jasper sternly, gently thwacking Rowan’s arm with the plastic spatula he was holding.

“I-” said Conrad, pausing to think and sigh a little. “I’m not… in love or whatever… with… him. I barely know him.”

“Oh, but there is total crushing going on though, yeah? Whoever he is you fancy him?” his sister said with glee.

“Alright, yes, miss nosey, if you must know. Yes, I’m attracted to him, but I don’t imagine that I’ll ever bump into him again and I didn’t catch gay vibes from him. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.”

“Wait, what mistake?” asked Rowan, draining his coffee cup and standing to refill the kettle for another brew.

“I didn’t know you’d had a boyfriend.” said Ianthe.

“Obviously I don’t tell you everything. And it doesn’t count. Not really.” Conrad sighed and looked at his siblings, for some reason, since telling them what they already knew about his sexuality, he was seeing them in a new light. Their expressions were looks of concern for whatever had happened to their little brother.

“You don’t have to tell us.” said Jasper, handing him a plate with two slices of toast and a tub of margarine with a butter knife sticking in the top.

Conrad thought for a few seconds, this was something he had kept to himself and told no-one about, a pain he had carried for years and never shared so speaking about it now was, he expected, going to hurt.

“It was a couple of years ago, during basic training for the Hub. Matthew had been flirting with me, I thought, for weeks and I had been clumsily flirting back. I thought I knew how he felt so I told him I was falling in love with him and he…. Laughed. It was all part of some bet he had with his buddies. And he said some really horrific things.”

“What did he say?” asked Ianthe.

The exact words and slurs Matthew had flung at him were etched on his memory and he was able to recite them exactly as they had been said.

“The homophobic fucker!” yelled Ianthe, as her brothers stared at her, wide eyed in shock as she never usually resorted to such language.

Jasper had taken the frying pan off the gas while Conrad was talking so he could sit on the chair next to him and not be distracted by possibly burning breakfast. Resting a hand on Conrad’s shoulder, he smiled gently.

“You’re in a uniquely privileged position, you know?”

Conrad frowned, uncomprehending.

“You see, Ianthe has access to databases. She could find this arsehole in a second.”

“Ooh, yeah.” she replied, “Then Jasper can kill him and make it look like natural causes, Rowan can burn all the evidence without it looking like arson-”

“And Ianthe can hide the body where the police will never look. Go team!” laughed Rowan, high fiving his siblings, making Conrad laugh.

Jasper, who already had an arm around Conrad’s shoulder, shifted his chair back so Rowan could scoot around the table and Ianthe joined them in a tight group hug from which they all retreated with tears in their eyes.

“I’ve gotta take you to Glam with me tonight.” said Ianthe, wiping her eyes and fetching knives and forks as Jasper continued cooking the sausages and bacon, opening and emptying the baked beans into a small saucepan.

“No, Ianthe.” he said reprovingly, “You can’t take your cute gay brother clubbing just to try and blag free drinks from the barman. Aren’t you getting married?”

“Hey! I’m no cheater, but if I can get a free drink, why not?” she replied, sticking out her tongue.

“Anyway,” said Rowan, “I’ve got a gig at the White Harte tonight if you’re interested? Starts at 8?”

The four of them piled their plates high and sat around the kitchen table chatting, Conrad feeling whole and included for the first time. It’s not that his siblings had ever excluded him, on the contrary, but as he had held himself so much in reserve, he had maintained a detachment which he had regretted for a long time. All that was at an end now and their closeness had a warm reassurance to it.

Mid-morning, Rowan left to go home as he had cleaning and laundry to do as well as a rehearsal with his six piece jazz band in the afternoon before the evening at the pub. Ianthe, Jasper and Conrad dug through the huge board games cupboard in the spare room and carried half a dozen boxes down to the dining room and began to play. Graham could hear the howls of laughter from the study where he was listening to a Gilbert & Sullivan operetta through his wireless headphones. Joanne dashed home for a quick lunch with the family in between her morning of music therapy classes at the seniors residential home and her afternoon of teaching at the local community music school.

J asper, Conrad and Ianthe agreed to head to the pub for dinner, and Joanne peered from behind the net curtains as her three children walked down the path to the waiting cab. Even the way her youngest son walked had changed in the past few hours, there was no longer the tentative tread of someone trying not to intrude , he moved more easily and held his head higher.

The White Harte dinner menu was standard pub grub, something Conrad missed when onboard the Space Hub. He ordered a club sandwich with chips, Ianthe and Jasper both opting for different burgers along with just salad for her and both chips and salad for him. On a raised dais, the band had already set up and they were by the bar, munching on a few light snacks and drinking soft drinks.

“Um. I’d offer to buy a round, but I didn’t stop to grab my wallet before evac’ing the Hub.”

“Lame excuse bro, but ok.” grinned Jasper, paying for the drinks the three had ordered and carrying them to the table near the stage area that Ianthe had snagged. The food arrived quickly and Ianthe began to regret her healthy choice. She looked first at Jasper’s plate but he, guessing her thoughts, slowly pulled it out of her reach, shaking his head.

“Awww.” said Conrad in a voice of mock disappointment. “Poor Ianthe. Did you want some chips?”

“Yeah?”

“You can have as many of my chips as you like.” he replied.

“Yay! Really?”

“No, shove off, you can have two.” Conrad laughed, scooping a few onto her plate and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

The live music was excellent, Rowan being a talented guitarist and singer. The band consisted of him as lead guitar, a bassist, drummer, pianist, trumpeter and saxophonist. Halfway through the evening’s set, he adjusted his microphone stand nervously and spoke to everyone assembled.

“Hi, this next number is a bit of a departure from what we usually play, but it’s important to me at least.”

Checking the tuning on his guitar, he continued.

“It’s for this guy over here,” he said, pointing at Conrad. “Most of you have no idea how heroic my little brother who works up on the Space Hub is and just a few days ago, there was a critical malfunction which put everyone’s life in danger. Conrad here held the fort, made sure all his colleagues escaped safely and stayed behind, prepared to give his life up to save the rest of the crew.”

Whatever Rowan had been planning to say next was drowned out by the rousing applause and whistles resounding round the pub and Conrad was pushed to his feet by Ianthe and Jasper. He waved awkwardly then sat back down, his sister putting an arm around his neck and leaning against his shoulder.

Smiling down at Conrad, Rowan began to play, took a breath and sang.

“It must have been cold there in my shadow
To never have sunlight on your face
You were content to let me shine
You always walked a step behind

So I was the one with all the glory
While you were the one with all the strain
Only a face without a name
I never once heard you complain

Did you ever know that you're my hero
And everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle
For you are the wind beneath my wings

It might have appeared to go unnoticed
But I've got it all here in my heart
I want you to know I know the truth
I would be nothing without you

Did you ever know that you're my hero?
You're everything I wish I could be
I could fly higher than an eagle
For you are the wind beneath my wings

Fly, fly, fly away, you let me fly so high
Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings
Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings
Fly, fly, fly high against the sky
So high I almost touch the sky
Thank you, thank you
Thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings

Ianthe and Jasper were both in tears, Rowan barely holding on while he sang, and the entire pub applauded again as the song ended.

Chapter Text

One of the tasks Virgil had happily given over to EOS was assembling a weekly selection of press clippings referring to Tracy Industries or International Rescue from media sources worldwide, along with translations into English for any sources in a language none of the family was familiar with. He felt it was important to know what public opinion on their work was, whether good or bad. In amongst the week’s clippings, EOS had added an article published in early January in a local UK newspaper.

Slough Space Controller A “Superhero” as Space Hub Nears Meltdown
Salt Hill local , Conrad Barnes, 24, currently a Traffic Controller onboard the Space Hub, recently risked his life to ensure his colleagues’ safety during a critical malfunction .
At around 8am Universal Space Time on 17 December, an inbound space freighter collided with the Space Hub, sending its core into critical meltdown and requiring immediate evacuation of all personnel. According to Space Hub Corp. CEO, Erin Cowell, had it not been for Barnes’ quick thinking, a number of the crew may well have found themselves trapped with no means of escape.
“Conrad has always been an exemplary team member, going above and beyond the call of duty.”
Team Lead Charles T MacMannus spoke highly of his junior colleague, “He’ s one of the hardest working guys on the Hub, really knows his stuff and is a great team player.”

Virgil smiled as he read the article which went on to quote Conrad’s secondary school headmaster, speaking highly of his former pupil.

“I also found this video” called EOS, noticing that Virgil was reading the article about Conrad.

Onto the holoscreen, EOS projected a four year old video of the biathlon final from the last Winter Olympics.

Gordon flopped down onto the sofa next to Virgil and frowned.

“Why are we watching the final of ‘Who Wants To Be The Next Bond Villain’? Wait! Is that- That’s Conrad?”

“What?” Virgil asked in surprise, leaning forward.

For the following hour, they sat and anxiously watched the Men’s 12.5km Pursuit, other family members drifting in and joining them, each asking “What are you watching?” before being hushed and informed that it was Conrad competing in the Olympics four years ago. Eventually everyone who was home was on the edge of various sofas and chairs, bouncing up and down in just as much excitement as the commentator.

“And we’re coming into the final stages, out in first, as expected, is Yanis Olachov, the Slovak. He’s had an amazing season, and now on the verge of retaining his biathlon gold which he won in such style in Chamonix four years ago. Behind him, it’s Daneel Aaberg of Norway who recently broke the record at the European Championship in Finland. As you can see, the weather has really deteriorated, it’s now minus 14 degrees and the wind has picked up which has made the shooting much more of a challenge. In third position but closing the gap, the surprise no-one was expecting, competing for Malaysia, 20 year old Conrad Tan-Barnes. Historically, not the fastest skiier but this evening he has been the most consistent over the shooting rounds and has skiied a much more compact line, adapting to the powdery conditions and wind much better than many other competitors.”

Despite the competition being years old – and they could just as easily have looked up the result on the internet – Virgil, Gordon and Scott were on their feet jumping up and down and yelling encouragements at the holoscreen.

“Incredible! Tan-Barnes really digging deep here, drawing level with Aaberg who’s falling back just a little. Is Tan-Barnes going to try and edge Olachov out? It’ll be very close, much closer than Olachov might want. And… Olachov just manages to keep his gold, by the very tiniest of margins, by the look of it, only a couple of centimetres in it and Aaberg just behind Tan-Barnes. What a performance!”

Gordon turned to Virgil and grinned. “We should call him and say well done!”

“Call who?” he replied.

“Uh… Conrad? Who d’you think?”

“Are you kidding me? This competition is, like, four years old. No! Besides, we don’t have a number for him.”

“John and EOS could get it.”

“Yeah, and what do we say? ‘Hi, we just dug out this footage of you winning a silver at the Olympics years ago, well done!’”

“Sure, why not?”

“Forget it Gordon. Please?” Virgil asked with a tired smile.

“But-”

“Gordon!” Virgil insisted, a cold light in his eyes which made his younger brother stare. “Leave it.”

Whereupon, he walked away from the lounge to sit at the piano and play a few bars from various half-remembered songs. None of them hit whatever spot Virgil was searching for and after a few minutes, he simply sighed and closed the keyboard lid and left to wander down to the beach and watch the sun set in solitude.

Gordon turned to look at Scott, raising his eyebrows in mute enquiry.

“For the love of Poseidon, Neptune and any other aquatic deity you ascribe to? Please, Gordy, don’t meddle in Virgil’s affairs.”

“Are you blind? He’s lonely and unhappy.”

“I have eyes. I don’t yet need prescription glasses and I’m not an idiot. Barnes is someone we rescued a couple months ago, we’ve had no contact with since and if Virgil doesn’t want to pursue it, then neither do I.”

Other than giving John and EOS instructions to keep an eye on Gordon and prevent any brewing mischief, there was nothing much else that Scott could really do.

---

Having correctly guessed which Tracy brother had snagged her brother’s heart, Ianthe set about programming alerts into her web browser. Any time a mention was made of International Rescue or Tracy Industries, she received a notification. Within two months, she found the perfect opportunity with an upcoming fundraiser sponsored by Tracy Industries, and could only hope that Virgil would be in attendance, it even fitted in with some of Conrad’s time at home. She asked if he’d be up for a trip to London and, since he had nothing else on and enjoyed spending time with his sister, he accepted. It came as a bit of a surprise, though, when instead of heading to a jazz bar, theatre or any other of their usual haunts, Ianthe had packed formal wear for both of them.

“Explain to me why the black tie apparel?” he asked, as she helped him straighten his black bow tie.

“You’ll see.” she smiled, wearing a close fitting dark navy knee length dress with a wide neckline and short sleeves under a black thick wool coat. Along with a pair of fleece lined gloves and a fluffy scarf, she was well wrapped up against the cold evening air. She had pulled her long hair back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck and she wore very little makeup.

The cab she had ordered was waiting and as they walked up to the entrance of the museum where the fundraiser was being held, Conrad noticed the small Tracy Industries logo on the large display board.

“Ianthe?” he asked in warning tone, pointing to the board, but she was already approaching the burly security guard who raised a hand to barr her entry. Without a hesitation, she pulled her police badge from her clutch bag and identified herself.

“There’s a Person of Interest attending this benefit. I’m here to speak with him.” she replied abruptly.

“What about him?” asked the guard, pointing at Conrad.

“He’s a civilian, with me, to identify the person.”

The guard and Ianthe looked at each other in stony silence for a moment until the man relented and stood back to let them pass.

“How the hell did you do that?” asked Conrad in awe, following her through the hallway to the cloakroom where they left their coats. The main atrium was packed with hundreds of guests but Ianthe was experienced at finding someone in a crowd and scanned the room, finally locating someone who, if it wasn’t Virgil, certainly styled their hair exactly the same.

“Come on.” she whispered and beckoned Conrad to follow her, which he did, hissing at her to come back and attempting to stop her from carrying out whatever plan she was forming.

Ianthe squeezed between a guest and a waiter circulating with a tray of canapés and stopped next to Virgil who was listening politely to a charity donor rambling on about some very dull subject. Handsome enough in promotional photos for his company, the man was even more so in person and, whatever cologne it was he wore, he smelled amazing.

“Excuse me.” Ianthe said, after a minute of waiting, looking at the donor with a smile until he got the message and walked away. Turning back to Virgil, she held out her hand.

“I’m Ianthe.” she said, “Ianthe Barnes.” she continued, wondering if the surname would spark a memory.

“Barnes?” asked Virgil with a smile, shaking Ianthe’s hand.

“Yes,” she replied, “You rescued my brother Conrad, over there.” She gave a small head jerk and turned a little on the spot so Virgil could look over her shoulder to where Conrad was standing. She hadn’t yet worked out a strategy to encourage them to approach each other or start a conversation, but as it turned out, it wasn’t necessary. It was as though Virgil’s feet carried him automatically to where Conrad stood.

“Hi.” Virgil smiled, looking up into Conrad’s blue eyes and wishing for a split second that magic was a real thing so that he could instantly whisk the pair of them away to some secluded spot.

“How have things been going?” asked Conrad, “Looks like you’ve had some tough rescues. I saw one with a collapsing building recently.”

“Yeah, that was nasty. We didn’t manage to get everyone out which was hard and TB2 is made of cahelium which is nice and strong but even then, I had scratches in the paintwork and a few dents by the end of that rescue. Brains was not impressed. No physical injuries to report.”

As much as the pair may have wanted to spend the rest of the evening talking exclusively to each other, they realised that wasn’t likely to happen as Virgil was expected to mix and talk to other guests so Ianthe asked him whether he would be available for brunch the following morning, ignoring the signals her brother was trying to send her telepathically to please stop interfering.

“I have the weekend off for once, Conrad isn’t expected back up on the Hub for another four days so, if you’re free? We could do brunch and then there’s a new exhibition on at the Tate Modern which looks interesting?”

“Uh… Yeah.” said Virgil.

“Cool!” she smiled, “Rats! I left my phone at home though so how about you guys exchange numbers and that way we can set something up for tomorrow. 11? Is that too late?”

“No, that’s fine, 11 tomorrow.”

One of the photography team was weaving through the room and decided to stop and take a photo of Mr Tracy and two of his guests. The three of them posed and Ianthe planned to dodge out of frame so that her brother would have a photo of himself with Virgil but Conrad, well aware of his sister’s mind worked, put an arm around her, pinning her in place.

They each said their see you soons, and Ianthe and Conrad left, flagging a cab down on the street. As they settled in for the twenty minute journey back to their rental in Hammersmith, she dug her phone from her bag and started browsing possible restaurants.

“I thought you said you’d left that at home!” remarked Conrad.

“Yeah, I lied, and now you have your gorgeous man’s number.”

“He’s not my man.”

“But he is gorgeous.”

“Well, obviously, yes. But at the very most we are cordial acquaintances. Not really friends.”

"Yet?"

As Ianthe and Conrad were preparing to leave the flat the following morning, she rested her hand on his arm.

“I’ll give you two excuses. One, your sister totally forgot to go shopping for her fiancé’s birthday present and his birthday is next week, or two, your sister doesn’t want to be the third wheel at what’s definitely not a date, just cordial acquaintances catching up. Which do you prefer?”

“You are such a stirrer.” groaned Conrad, rolling his eyes but giving her a hug and climbing into a taxi. “But I think I might use excuse number one. I’ll let you know how it goes, ok?”

She blew him a kiss and watched the car leave, hoping that the gods of fate and love would behave themselves. Virgil had arrived at the restaurant almost twenty minutes ahead of time and was trying not to overdo it on the coffee while he waited. He was wearing his glasses that day, having worn his contacts for most of the three previous days and late into the night at the fundraiser. He had forgotten to pack lense cleaning fluid and had grabbed a bottle at random from the chemist near his hotel which was irritating his eyes. They were still tired and sore when he woke so he decided that vanity would have to be sacrificed on the altar of comfort for once. A few basic saline solution eye drops to make things feel less sandpaper dry and he was set for the day. When he saw the front door swing open and Conrad enter, his cheeks pink with the winter cold, he stood, trying not to concentrate on his heart skipping a beat.

“Hi!” smiled Conrad nervously, tugging his gloves off and shoving them into the pockets of his coat which he shrugged off and draped around his chair along with his scarf. “Hope you haven’t been waiting too long. Ianthe sends her regrets, she has shopping to do for her fiancé’s birthday.”

Brunch was delicious and after the first few awkward minutes they fell into easy conversation, Conrad mentioning that everything was going well on the Space Hub since the renovations. The internal investigations had been completed and the verdict was that he had acted correctly and was not liable for the collision.

“They were going to hold you responsible for that?” asked Virgil in astonishment.

“No, at least I don’t think so, but when your space transit terminal has to be evacuated because it’s going into meltdown and one of your employees gets trapped and nearly dies, that falls into workplace accident territory which comes with a lot of paperwork and interviews. Management confirmed I did everything right, diverting Alpha 9-9 to bay 2-1 and it was the fault of Bravo 2-4 with damaged comms that collided with the Hub.”

He was due to start the training courses needed to apply for a promotion and just so long as he didn’t go and catch his hand in one of the hatch doors again, all should be fine.

“Did myself quite the mischief!” he said, turning over his right hand which still bore the trace of a nasty cut across his palm.

“Ouch, that must’ve hurt like hell when it happened.”

“It’s feeling much better.” Conrad smiled, reaching for his coffee mug.

When finally they reached the limit of what they could physically eat and still move, they split the bill equally and stepped out into the cold midday air. They crossed the Millennium Bridge towards Bankside, the streets bustling with office workers dashing out to buy lunch and the usual stock of tourists so the pair walked close to each other, their hands brushing every now and then.

They turned the corner and saw the long queue of cold looking people standing in a line for the museum. There were helpful information panels warning people how long they were likely to be hanging around for before they got into the building, current waiting time ninety minutes, and that was the queue for those who had already purchased their tickets in the hopes of getting in quickly.

“Sooooo.” said Conrad “Come back another time, maybe?”

“Definitely.” replied Virgil, rubbing his hands together. They decided to head back across the bridge and just go for a wander, planning to duck into a warm pub when they felt too cold to stay out of doors.

“You had a good Christmas? I mean, it’s months ago now, but-”

“It was good to be home, without the accident, I would’ve been working on the Hub over Christmas and New Year. Actually you remember the day you dropped me off?”

Virgil nodded, that day and the all too short flight to Britain were imprinted on his brain, he could remember almost everything they chatted and laughed about on the journey.

“I got home to find my parents had thrown a party for me! I was floored, took me totally by surprise but it was great to see everyone. And my parents have this big picture frame which is like a collage of Rowan, Jasper and Ianthe’s achievements with their certificates for bravery, valiant service and stuff like that and news clippings about them and they’d taken it down, which was kind of odd but they’ve recently put it back up on the wall with a copy of a local newspaper article about me and the letter of commendation from Space Hub. I have to admit, I burst into tears when I first saw it.”

“EOS found that news article.”

“I doubt anyone would’ve known much about it if it hadn’t been for Rowan in the pub.”

Conrad went on to explain about the gig, Rowan singing and that a local journalist on his evening off just happened to be in the White Harte that evening and immediately called his editor to pitch the story.

“Yeah, that made interesting reading. Certainly my headteacher’s recollection of me. I think his memories were a little foggy. I wasn’t the well behaved kid he described. I’m the youngest of four siblings and we all went to the same junior school. The others are more, I guess, intellectual than me, certainly better at sitting at a desk and learning stuff. I always felt like I was playing catch up, but thankfully not one of my teachers at juniors, or secondary either now I think about it, ever said ‘oh why can’t you be more like Rowan or Jasper or Ianthe’. I do remember being on the verge of cheating on one of my exams, Jasper came into my room as I was trying to hide stuff in my bag and scribble notes on my shirt cuff and he’s not the guy to anger easily so I could see he was trying to keep his temper, he sat down and basically talked me out of it.”

“Did you pass?”

“Yeah, not flying colours but yes, I passed the exam and felt really good about it because I’d done it honestly. With so many siblings, I guess you must have moments of competitiveness?”

“That’s putting it mildly. John’s the academic, I think if he weren’t space monitor he’d make a really good college professor. Alan could probably rival him on that score if he played Cavern Quest a little less, me and Gordon are about equal in that we’re better at practical stuff and Scott sort of slots in the middle. Taking over Tracy Industries after Dad’s accident was a vertical learning curve for him, he spent months getting only a few hours’ sleep here and there because he was trying to understand all the business terms and work out how to run the company. He tried to do it all by himself and nearly broke down in the process until John metaphorically chained him to his bed and told him to rest. That’s when we divvied up who’d do what, also when John found a couple of our board members were being a little creative with their expenses claims and since then, the burden is fairly equally spread between us three.”

“Not Alan and Gordon? Well, I guess Alan’s still young.”

“Still in high school and he’s been through so much in such a short space of time that we’re not eyeing him up for a job. If he wants in, great, but I think there’s more to him than working for Dad’s company. Gordon is a bit of an enigma, he was shaping up for a career in WASP and would probably have done really well but then he had a horrific accident in a hydrofoil test, nearly died in the process.”

“Oh my god, that’s awful!”

“A lot of his spine is made from titanium these days, one of his lungs was more perforated than a tea bag so that needed replacement and he’ll say he’s fine and tell you he’s got all his range of movement back but, you know, some days you’ll ask him at dinner to pass the salt and he’ll reach all wrong and wince.”

“Sounds a bit like Rowan. He’s the firefighter who seems to think he’s a cat with nine lives, the number of close calls he’s had. I think Mum and Dad had hoped we’d all choose nice safe careers but we’re a constant source of stress to them!”

“What do they do?”

“They both teach, Mum does music and music therapy and Dad is an art teacher at a secondary school who volunteers at a local prison in his spare time, running art therapy sessions. Some of the prisoners’ artwork is harrowing, but he recently was able to organise an exhibition and art sale which raised a lot of money for a prisoners on parole charity. At least, I think that’s what the charity was.” Conrad sighed suddenly, flexed his shoulders and rubbed a stiff know in his neck. “Life since the Hub incident has a different feel to it.”

“I know what you mean, the number of times we’ve each of us come perilously close to death during a rescue, when you come out the other side still alive, you feel this exhilaration and adrenalin rush. Gives you a greater appreciation for life, reminds you to not waste your chances. Is that a park up ahead?” asked Virgil, burying his hands in his coat pockets and thinking he really ought to stop and buy gloves.

“Hyde Park, I think. Last time I visited it I was with school. We’d been to the science museum and we stopped in the park for a picnic lunch before heading to the station to go home.”

Since their feet and legs were beginning to ache from walking on the hard stone pavements, they were happy to exchange for a grassy, softer surface and turned onto one of the paths criss crossing the park.

“I have to say, I’m surprised you haven’t been caught by screaming girls and photographers, I’d have thought you’d be hounded.”

“For some reason, you Brits seem less bothered by us. It’s true, if we were trying to walk through Central Park I’d have been stopped for selfies every ten paces. Here? It’s more like ‘Hi, I’m Virgil, world famous rescue guy!’ and y’all are just ‘huh? Wot? Alright there mate.’” said Virgil, making Conrad laugh at his passable English accent.

“My fifteen minutes of fame have long sinced passed, for which I’m grateful but I’m sure you-” Conrad was staring out over the distant expanse of frozen water which was the Serpentine. “-really don’t want to be out there doing that, kid.” he finished, looking at Virgil in concern.

Virgil turned to see what had caught Conrad’s attention, in the middle of the river was a boy of about eleven years old waving a stick around, stretching to try to fetch the football he’d kicked.

“Do you think he’s gonna go through the- oh shit!” yelled Conrad as the ice cracked and the boy plunged out of sight into the waters, bobbing up a moment later, gasping and clinging on to the ice which began to fracture.

Together, he and Virgil sprinted for the river bank, shouting at bystanders to give them any belts or scarves. While Virgil collected as many as were volunteered and tied them together to form a makeshift rope, Conrad stepped down onto the ice, laid down flat and propelled himself across to the boy, keeping his weight as spread out as possible.

“Hey! Kid!” he called, as the boy, now panicking, spluttered, nearly sinking more than once. “What’s your name?”

“Peter!” he gasped.

“Alright, Peter, reach out to me here.” Conrad stretched out his arm, grabbing the boy’s sopping wet coat. “Good, that’s it, eyes on me. You’re gonna be ok, you trust me? Maybe don’t nod coz you’ll get water up your nose.”

Peter made a noise which might have been a laugh. From the bank, Conrad heard Virgil yell his name and, still holding firmly onto Peter, he looked over his shoulder to where Virgil had coiled up the scarf-rope and tied a short branch at the end to give it some weight. With a huge backhand swipe, Virgil flung it towards Conrad who easily caught it with his spare hand and reached into the freezing water to wrap it around Peter.

“Peter, listen to me. You’ve got a rescue rope now, so you need to stop struggling so I can drag you out. Ready?”

Peter, white in the face, his lips turning blue, nodded as Conrad found purchase for his elbows and, with his hands under Peter’s arms, he slowly hoisted the boy from the water, laying him on his stomach.

“Don’t move, can you see the man over there with black hair? Yes? He’s got the other end of the rescue rope so you hold onto it nice and tight, he’s going to pull you to land.”

With slow, even moves, Virgil reeled in the rope as Conrad wriggled and commando crawled back across the ice, using the tips of his boots to advance and trying to ignore the preoccupying cracking noise of the ice beneath him.

On the shore, Virgil carefully lifted Peter to safety and sat him on the ground then shrugged his own heavy coat off and wrapped it round the boy. A couple of witnesses had sprinted up to the entrance of the park where an ambulance was most likely to stop and would guide the paramedics down to the river as soon as they arrived. A pair of park police officers had hurried over with a bulky first aid box and survival blankets and were working on warming the boy up safely.

One officer asked who he was with and Peter nodded to a younger boy about 20 metres away, sat on the grass, eyes wide and looking paralysed with shock who was, it turned out, Peter’s younger brother.

Getting to his feet, Conrad nearly slipped on the ice, flinging an arm out to maintain his balance. Virgil caught the hand flailing in midair and held it so that Conrad could step onto solid ground.

“You okay there?” Virgil asked, holding on to Conrad’s hand.

“My gloves are soaked.” Conrad replied dragging them off with difficulty, “And my arms and hands are stiff.”

“Here.” said Virgil, taking his hands and rubbing them to warm up.

“Thank you.” Conrad murmured.

Peter had been transferred to the care of the paramedic team who had just arrived, along with his brother and the paramedic turned his attention to Conrad, offering him a foil survival blanket.

“Thank you but I’m just going to head home and change into dry clothes. Unless you need me to stay and give a statement?”

The police officer permitted Conrad to leave, just so long as he came back to the police station within twenty four hours to give his version of events, other witnesses being currently interviewed by fellow officers.

Virgil and Conrad walked away and out of the park, searching for a cab. “Would you like to come with me? Your coat’s damp and there’s a pretty good Italian coffee machine in the flat.”

“Uh… Sure!” Virgil grinned and they climbed into the black cab which had responded to their waving.

“Your hands still cold?” he asked.

“Mm-hm.” replied Conrad. Virgil shifted over as far as he could while still wearing a seatbelt, and took Conrad’s hands between his own. The taxi journey lasted almost thirty minutes in traffic and Conrad was beginning to shiver a little by the end of it since the front of his coat, his shirt and sweater sleeves and his jeans were wet from crawling over the frozen river, but they finally arrived at the building where he and Ianthe were renting a two bedroom flat for their stay. Taking the lift up to the third floor, Conrad dug the keys from his pocket and handed them to Virgil.

“It’s the one with the green tab on it.”

Virgil opened the door and helped Conrad take off his boots and coat.

“Thanks, I can manage the rest.”

“You sure?”

“Uh, yeah. Might grab a quick shower to warm up. Back in a minute.”

Virgil went to the kitchen, planning to get a pot of coffee ready for when Conrad was finished with the shower. However, despite his engineering degrees and being pilot of such a complex craft as Thunderbird Two, the intricate workings of the coffee machine baffled him. When it suddenly started venting steam, Virgil jumped backwards with a loud yelp, turning round at the sound of running feet as Conrad skidded into the room in dry jeans and socks, naked from the waist up, his tshirt in his hand.

“Are you ok? I heard a yell. Oh! Hang on.” he crossed the room, flicked a couple of switches and adjusted some of the settings, stopping the steam. “There. I’ll, uh, sort the rest out in a sec.”

Pulling the tshirt over his head, Conrad ran his fingers through his damp, tangled hair and headed to the bedroom to fetch a dry jumper. Virgil was hoping his jaw hadn’t dropped to the floor at the sight of Conrad’s pale, muscular chest and he gave himself a mental shake.

In the months since he and Conrad had met, Virgil had asked himself over and over why this particular rescuee stuck in his mind. Thankfully he wasn’t at a stage of thinking about him every day, but whenever Conrad popped into his mind, it did take a while to clear his thoughts. He and Scott had talked about his feelings, Virgil’s sexuality was no secret between them, and, although his older brother proposed various different pretexts for reestablishing contact with the space controller, Virgil shot them down before Scott could even finish his sentence.

Conrad returned wearing a baggy grey hooded sweatshirt, and began to make the coffee Virgil had attempted.

“Well that afternoon was more exciting than I’d expected.” laughed Conrad, handing a large steaming mug to Virgil who sipped it and sighed with pleasure, walking from the kitchen to the spacious living room which had a plush emerald green three seater angle sofa which converted to a bed. The flat had two separate bedrooms, both decorated in neutral tones, and the kitchen was white and grey with bright red appliances.

“As good as the brew I made on Tracy Island?”

“Better,” replied Virgil, sitting down and stretching his legs out in front of him. “I think we need to get a newer machine for home.”

“Partly it’s the machine, partly it’s the beans. You can have the best machine in the world, but if your beans are substandard, you’re just going to end up with grotty tasting coffee.”

Checking the time, Conrad frowned, surely Ianthe would have finished her shopping by now. Setting his mug on the coffee table, he fetched his phone from the bedroom and tapped the recent calls list, stopping at her name.

“I’m just giving my sister a quick call.” he explained, sitting back down.

Ianthe picked up on the third ring, and reassured her worried brother.

“You are not going to believe this-” she began.

“No, probably not. What is it?”

“D’you remember Kelly, my friend from school? The one who moved up to Manchester to be a midwife.”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, she’s down in London this week for a conference with the Royal College of Midwives and I randomly ran into her in Bond Street.”

“Sure you did.” replied Conrad, unconvinced.

“No, honestly, I really did. So we’re planning to head out for dinner later, I’ll let you know and I’ll text you when I’m on my way home so you don’t have to worry, okay?”

“Alright, Ianthe, I’ll believe you, thousands wouldn’t. See you later.” he turned to Virgil, “She’s okay, bumped into a friend so won’t be back for a while. And I apologise for gate crashing last night, totally her idea. I love her very much but she can be a bit meddlesome.”

“It’s fine, really, seeing a friendly face at that thing made my night. Big galas like that are not really my thing, and after a week full of rescues followed by full days of meetings I was almost out of energy. You all warmed up now?”

“Yeah, not really inclined to go back out in the cold though. Would you like to stay for dinner? There’s some fresh pizza and garlic breads in the fridge we can cook up and some salads, coleslaw and stuff?”

“Dinner would be great, I really shouldn’t be hungry after all we ate this morning.”

“I hope those boys are ok, any way we can find out?” asked Conrad.

“I could call John and EOS, get them to ask around.”

“If it’ll involve a breach of data protection rules to find out then no, I’ll ask either Ianthe or Jasper to work their connections.” he smiled, finishing his now tepid coffee. “More coffee?” he asked and Virgil nodded, turning his attention to some of the bookshelves around the lounge, finding a few titles which caught his interest.

Conrad gave a thumbs up and brewed another round, the next couple of hours was spent in comfortable near silence, sipping coffee and reading. At one point, Conrad gave a short snort of laughter at the book he had chosen and looked up to explain it to Virgil but noticed that he had nodded off.

Suddenly Conrad’s phone started buzzing with a calendar reminder, he snatched it up and rejected it. A moment later, Virgil’s own phone began to ring in his pocket which woke him and he sat up, rubbing his eyes and squinting at the display.

“John? Why are you awake? The what in the park? Oh! That! Uh, yes that was me and Conrad, why?”

Conrad looked at Virgil, eyebrows raised in enquiry.

“John says there’s a video of us rescuing Peter and it’s doing the rounds on social media.”

“Does it say who I am?” asked Conrad in concern.

“Apparently not, why?”

“I rescued my colleagues on the Hub, you can bet there’s going to be some sceptical arse out there saying that I’ve got the ‘Saviour bug’, just wanting public accolades for rescuing people and that, like as not, I engineered the whole situation, probably paying the kid to fall through the ice in the first place at the exact time you and I would be in position at the park.”

“Oh, come on, no-one would say- What am I saying?” asked Virgil, shaking his head, “There’s scarily too many people who would say exactly that. John? Can you and EOS flag some alert and make sure that mine and Conrad’s names don’t get connected to today? Keep it as unidentified passersby? Thanks, talk later.” Turning to Conrad, Virgil smiled “It kinda helps I was wearing my glasses, no-one recognizes me when I do.”

“Your Clark Kent disguise.” quipped Conrad, checking the calendar reminder on his phone. “Oh, that’s what it was.” he said to himself, then looked up at Virgil. “Sorry, before I forget, yet again, I just want to get my tickets for Pride this year.”

“Pride?”

“Yeah, Brighton Pride. It’s in August. I’ve been meaning to go for years but never got round to aka worked up the courage to.”

Virgil nodded, telling himself not to jump to conclusions, most likely Conrad was planning on going just as an ally.

“After the party with my family, I had some really genuine conversations with them which were so eye opening. Turns out, they’ve known I was gay but never mentioned it or tried to out me.”

Virgil’s heart skipped a beat, maybe he could allow himself to hope and dream, just a little bit.

Chapter Text

Over the following months, siblings on both sides attempted to be helpful in either gently nudging or brusquely shoving Virgil and Conrad to get in touch with each other. The men were, however, stubborn and as easily led as a mule.

“Ianthe, you mean well, I know.” Conrad began over the breakfast table on one of the mornings they were together in Slough, “But it’s probably best to leave it.”

“Why? You love the guy?”

“I barely know him. If anything I have a passing attraction. We’ve spent a few days together months ago which were very pleasant and we do seem to get on well together.”

“Then why?” Ianthe insisted, frustrated at her brother.

“We live and work in very different orbits. He’s on the other side of the world, I spend the majority of my time in space. That’s long distance with bells on.”

“Couldn’t you find a way to make it work?”

“Apart from the geography, he has a dangerous job. Any rescue could go wrong and- say we get together, I’ll spend my entire time worrying when he’s out of my sight, then if something does go wrong in the worst way possible, not only will I be on my own again, I’ll also be lonely and heartbroken.”

“You’re lonely and heartbroken now, though, aren’t you?”

“A little, but a little is better than the lot it would be otherwise.”

Standing up with an angry huff, Ianthe put her dishes in the sink and stormed out, shaking her head at her brother’s idiocy.

Scott and Gordon were getting nowhere with Virgil either. He seemed to be of the same opinion as Conrad, although his take was that, with his dangerous job, he didn’t want to leave a heartbroken Conrad behind if ever he died on the job. Morose and maudlin from both of them really, but nothing could be said to make them change their mind.

In the end, it was the Space Hub, rather than well meaning relatives, that brought them together again. There were several new ground and space control recruits at the Wellington branch, and Conrad was asked to travel to New Zealand to train them. He was something of a celebrity and management would make it worth his while.

Conrad checked his watch, eight o’clock, plenty of time for him to grab his coffee from Customs coffee bar on Ghuznee Street and make it to the Hub Training Academy. It was a cold winter day, and he was well wrapped up in his ski jacket, scarf and gloves. All was going well until someone came around the corner, head down, shoulders hunched against the cold and his hands deep in his pockets, not at all concentrating on where he was going and crashed into Conrad, send his coffee flying.

“Ugh! Watch it!” Conrad barked, exasperated, shaking his dripping hand and annoyed about the splashes on his dark green ski jacket.

“I’m so sorry!” Virgil apologised, before blinking in surprise, realizing who he had doused in coffee.

“Oh my god! What are you doing here?” Conrad asked, with a smile.

Virgil stared for a moment, “I’ve got a couple days off and there’s a concert at the St James Theater tomorrow. You?”

“Training new staff in, aaah! Half an hour. Gotta go!”

“How about dinner later, if you’re free?” Virgil blurted out, “I mean… I owe you for the spilled coffee.”

“Um.” Conrad thought, “Yeah. Yeah, dinner would be great. I’ll be in and out of training sessions all day, but have you got my number? Great, just let me know when and where. We finish around half five but it’s the last day before preliminary assessments so might run over a bit.”

They waved to each other and went their separate ways each thinking that, if they couldn’t be lovers, there was nothing to stop them being friends.

Most of the trainees had managed to keep up with the program, but there were a small number who were finding it a little more tricky and had needed a little additional coaching if they were to pass their basic qualifications. Training was finished by the usual half five cutoff, but Conrad stayed on an extra half hour to go over some of the more technical aspects for those with questions and by the time he was leaving the training center, there was little time for him to head home to freshen up before dinner. A quick text to Virgil to let him know he might be a few minutes late and he hopped in a cab, raced back to the apartment he had been staying in for his four month residence in New Zealand. There were still anywhere between two to four months secondment to Wellington remaining on his contract, perhaps longer, certainly long enough to see the new recruits into their posts and monitor them in situ to help them fully integrate the company.

He grabbed a quick shower and changed into dark blue jeans, a collared white button-up shirt and a deep purple cashmere v-neck sweater. The advantage of Conrad having worn his ski jacket that day rather than his grey wool coat – the reason being that a button had dropped off and he hadn’t gotten round to sewing it back on - was that the jacket was easier cleaned and the coffee stains barely showed up once he had wiped it down. The restaurant that Virgil had suggested was only a ten minute walk from the apartment and at a brisk walk, he arrived shortly after Virgil.

“This is really nice!” Conrad smiled as they took their seats, “How’re you all doing?”

“Doing well, Scott’s overdoing it as usual but that’s just how he is. His current girlfriend, Rachel, is trying to get him to slow down and take a break but-” Virgil shrugged as he took the menu proferred by the waitress.

“His current girlfriend? You make it sound like Scott changes girls like some people change socks!”

“I’m not gonna say he wears them out ‘coz that sounds hella dodgy. It’s not at all like that. At least… god, I hope it’s not like that. But with so many responsibilities and calls on his time, most girls he meets, it just ends up being too difficult. There’s always a tiny piece of his mind that’s overcalculating and wondering if they’re just after a rich guy to date or if they actually like him for who he is. Plus, living on an island?”

“Exactly, it takes a special kind of person to be able to cope with that sort of isolated living, not being able to just say ‘screw it, can’t be bothered to cook tonight, grab your coat and let’s go down the pub’.”

I can’t believe you’re here in New Zealand of all places!”

“My boss made an interesting offer, and I’m enjoying the training part, so it’s all good.”

“I guess you’re missing Brighton Pride though? It’s later this week, right?”

“Yeah, I had to cancel my tickets but I’d bought refundable so I got my money back and – added bonus of being here, I’ve discovered Winter Pride! It’s in Queenstown at the end of the month so fun pride stuff plus skiing? What’s not to love!”

Virgil nodded and made a mental note to check on the tickets for Winter Pride as soon as he returned to the hotel he was currently staying at.

“So, busy recently? I’ve just been doing the usual, back and forth to the Hub.”

“Gordon and I dealt with a leaking hydromethane platform last week, and I met Kip Harris!”

“Is it really bad I have no idea who he is?”

Obviously, to Virgil, everyone ought to know who Kip Harris was and he was more than happy to reel off the man’s achievements until he realized that perhaps not everyone was quite as interested. Conrad yelped when Virgil matter-of-factly mentioned the rescue mission on Mars when he had been trapped in a cave.

“But I got back safely, see?”

“Oh goody!” Conrad replied with mild sarcasm, reminding himself that skin of the teeth rescues just like that one were exactly why he wasn’t planning to follow up on his vague feelings for Virgil.

As he would be working the following morning, Conrad was not really in the mood for staying out late, but enjoyed dinner and chatting and was keen to catch up briefly before the concert the next day if there was time. Unfortunately, the training day and trainee coaching ran much longer than expected so Conrad had to text Virgil to let him know he wouldn’t be able to make it to the cafe Virgil had suggested. They were both disappointed, though hiding it well, and while Virgil did enjoy the concert, he knew he would have enjoyed it more if he had not been there alone.

Scott, aware that his brother took much less time off than he ought, imposed a week of vacation at the end of the month, quelling objection with the argument that they had Gordon, John, Alan and Kayo to operate any of the equipment and craft they might need.

Virgil negotiated Scott down to four days, rather than a whole week, and on impulse, booked tickets to Winter Pride and searched out somewhere to stay, the few remaining places being, by now, rather more expensive than the average skier could afford.

He had sent a message to Conrad to let him know he was planning to be at the ski resort for a few days, which had made him smile but then think “It’s only a few days, then he’ll be off again and I can try to forget about him. Not that that’s worked at all so far.”

---

The day had been exhausting but fun, Conrad had taken part in some of the on mountain activities, including the color run and dancing along during one of the daily midday to two pm DJ sets. His Pride roommates were enthusiastic and he appreciated a few solo descents just for a bit of piece and quiet. It wasn’t until the evening apres ski at Yonder that he bumped into Virgil, smiling warmly, “You made it! Awesome!”

Conrad introduced him to some of the friends he’d made and Virgil felt an irrational stab of jealousy, hoping none of them had made a move on Conrad. Not for the first time, Virgil found himself feeling a little overwhelmed when strangers realised who they were talking to, beginning to bombard him with questions, asking him which was the worst rescue he’d ever been on, did he and his brothers ever argue, offering their condolences about his father. Conrad, realising this was getting too much for his friend, he gently grabbed Virgil’s arm and led him away to a quieter spot.

“It’s nearly eight, what are your dinner plans? I think the guys you just met – sorry for the twenty questions – I think they’re heading down to SkyCity later but if you want we can go somewhere else, it’s not like Queenstown is short on restaurants.

A less busy and noisy dinner with just the two of them was all Virgil wanted, the past week or two had been almost non stop rescues, business meetings, trying to get Gordon and Alan to talk to each other after they’d had some stupid argument. Choosing a Brazilian restaurant, they had a leisurely dinner and made their way slowly back to the resort, parting with an abrupt hug and setting a time and place to meet the following day.

Conrad’s roommates had gone from SkyCity to the after party, arriving back at the apartment at five in the morning. Always an early riser, and mischievous, he got out of bed at seven, sang in the shower and whistled loudly while he made a large mug of coffee. There were still two hours until the lifts opened at Coronet Peak, but he and Virgil were planning to meet at a resort cafe for brunch before working the calories off with a day of skiing.

In the long mirror of his chalet, Virgil checked his appearance, hair was perfectly sculpted but with a sigh he realized it would be a mess by the end of the day since he always wore a helmet to ski. Collecting his snowboard, he took a deep breath and prepared to meet the day. Brunch was delicious and the pair were among the first in the line for the lifts. With his biathlon experience, Conrad was better on snow than Virgil, who was a very good snowboarder, and he was prepared to board down a few of the more complicated runs that, had he been alone, he might not have attempted.

They stopped at a lodge for lunch, then heading back out until it was almost three in the afternoon. Conrad could see that Virgil’s energy was flagging, so he guided them onto a simple red. As they descended, they saw the clear signs of something being not quite right, coming up to a bend and not far from the edge of the slope they saw a ski pole with a glove attached to the handle. Judging from the way the snow was churned up, they could only conclude that someone had fallen off piste and into the gully. Skiing closer, they looked over and saw a woman in red and black ski gear, lying in a stream.

“Hey! Can you hear me?” Virgil called down.

She looked up and waved. “Yes, but at least one of my legs is busted.”

Turning to Conrad, Virgil said “You call the resort rescue guys, I’m going to try and get down there to see how bad it is.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s my turn.”

“Your turn?”

“You’ve already done a freezing cold water rescue. In London, remember?” Virgil said with a smile. “No point in getting my guys involved on this, by the time they get here we can be done already.”

Conrad dug out his phone and dialled the emergency number while Virgil slowly edged down the steep slope, reaching the wounded skier. From what he could determine, on of her legs was indeed broken, in at least two places, and she was beginning to catch a serious chill, she was shivering, her face white and blue lips turning purple at the edges. He didn’t want to move her out of the stream soaking through her ski gear in case the injuries were worse than a broken leg, if there was any chance her spine might be damaged, he needed to wait until the rescuers arrived with their equipment. He kept her talking until they arrived with their ski barge, lowering it down on ropes. It was a bit of an antiquated system, Virgil, thought, but at the same time, using a piece of kit with retro boosters or hover jets wouldn’t really be appropriate in the tight, snowy corner. While one rescuer untied the barge straps and pulled out a back board, the other dug out a health scanner, not unlike the kind Virgil habitually used, albeit a little less advanced in its functionalities.

“That’s a relief, leg broken in two places but it’s a clean break each one, so not too gnarly a recovery. And from what the scanner’s telling me, your spine's alright, you’re just likely to have a sore butt with some bruising for a while. You ready for us to get you out of there?”

The woman nodded, gritting her teeth and trying not to squawk in pain in front of not only two cute alpine rescuers but also a pair of cute skiers she’d caught sight of a few times during Pride events that week. She wondered if they were gay, bi or just allies, knowing her luck, though, gay as maypoles.

A rescuer called up to Conrad, still on the edge of the gully. “I think for safety and to get, sorry sweetheart, I didn’t ask your name? Liv? Hi Liv, I’m Jake, that’s Pete. I’m gonna call in the evacuation heli, ask it to land about 100 metres down the slope over there, can you back up and give them a wave? Maybe keep some of the skiers and boarders out of the way until it lands? Cheers mate!”

Conrad helpfully shepherded people out of the way and down the slopes, particularly those who were hoping for a peek and to see how messy the accident was.

“I like your skis!” he said to one, who was trying to look round him and over his shoulder. “But you know what, I’d like them even more if they were pointing that way and taking your nosey arse downhill.”

The skier was about to huff at him until he flashed a dazzling smile and gave her a wink and eyebrow flicker, whereupon she smiled and skied off, glancing behind her.

Down in the gully, Pete had carefully wrapped the inflatable brace around Liv’s leg, strapped it and opened the valve to let air into it.

“Sorry, this’ll hurt a bit yet, but we kinda have to do it to immobilise your leg.”

“My leg hurts like hell anyway, so whatever.”

With Virgil’s help, they transferred her to the back board, carried it to the barge and clipped it to the frame, wrapping survival blankets and thin thermal layers around Liv and attaching and tightening straps to stop her moving too much. By now, the rescue helicopter had landed and Jake and Pete were manoeuvering their barge along the gully to a spot where the slope and off piste area converged, much easier than trying to climb back up the slope with a barge, even if there were three strong men to carry it. Conrad grabbed the woman’s ski pole and glove and snow ploughed slowly down to the waiting helicopter where they were about to load the injured woman.

“My first Pride and I fall off a mountain. Before I even had time to meet anyone. So unfair.”

“Make sure you come back next year!” smiled Conrad.

“You’re cute.” she sighed, blinking wearily. “You here alone?”

“Not entirely.”

“That’s a shame. Could I persuade you?” she giggled.

“If you come back next year, I’ll buy you a drink. Agreed?”

She nodded and the rescuers transferred her into the heli, retrieving the spare barge the flying medics had brought, turning and skiing off down to resort HQ and the rescue centre.

“You okay?” Conrad asked as Virgil rubbed his hands together to warm them.

“Bit cold.”

“Hm. Want to go somewhere to warm up?” he said with a slow smile.

“Uhhhmm…. Where did you have in mind?” Virgil asked, with a slight squeak in his voice.

“The bar, down at the resort?”

“Oh! Sure.”

By the time they arrived, there was a crowd queuing out of the door and a chill wind was picking up so deciding they would rather find shelter elsewhere, Conrad turned to Virgil asking “Your place or mine?”

Comparing maps, they discovered that Conrad’s shared rental apartment was closer than the smarter chalet that Virgil had reserved on the spur of the moment which was closer to the centre of town.

They climbed the exterior stairs to the second floor where the apartment was located and stamped the snow off their feet as Conrad unlocked the door and pulled first his helmet and then his hat off, tucking it into a pocket of his jacket. Shrugging it off and hanging it on one of the pegs, he smiled at Virgil who was tugging at his gloves, trying to pry them off with his teeth.

“Come here,” Conrad suggested, removing Virgil’s helmet, coat and gloves, hanging them up beside his own and leading the way through to the kitchen where he started to make coffee. Seeing that Virgil was still rubbing his hands together, Conrad paused and reached out, gently grasping his fingers.

“How did you get so cold? Is it always like this?”

“No, just sometimes my blood pressure does weird stuff and my extremities go cold. Not usually this bad though.”

Thinking a moment and looking Virgil in the eye, Conrad gave a small slightly mischievous smile, sliding Virgil's cold hands under his jumper, pressing them to his sides to warm them against his skin, giving a slight shiver at the temperature. The pair stood in silence, Conrad’s hands resting on Virgil’s upper arms. With a long, deep exhale, Conrad leaned his head forward, resting it against Virgil’s forehead.

“I have to ask this question,” he began, “Are you- are you actually gay, ‘coz this is a bit unusual if you’re not.”

Slowly, Virgil moved his hands further round, until they were on Conrad’s back and pulled him nearer. Their faces were close, their noses touched and as their lips brushed, they heard the front door open and Conrad’s roommates arriving noisily.

Jumping apart, they exchanged a nervous look, until Virgil murmured, “My place?”

Saying hello and see you later to the roommates who were oblivious to what had just almost happened, Virgil and Conrad donned coats at a leisurely pace and walked the few minutes to Virgil’s chalet. Once indoors, behind a door that wouldn’t be flung open at an inopportune moment, Virgil reached for Conrad and this time, there were no intruders.

“To answer your question, yes, I’m gay. Very much so. And I’m also tired of pretending.”

“Preten-?”

“Pretending that what I feel about you is nothing, just a fleeting emotion.”

“Oh.”

“We both work in dangerous environments. Any day could be our last and I’m tired of keeping myself shut away and hoping I’ll stop being attracted to you.”

“Look,” said Conrad, “We don’t know what the future holds, for either of us, we don’t know from the little we know of each other whether we’re short or long term compatible, or whether what we feel is love or in love, but I want to find out. I don’t want to find myself, in years to come, looking back and wishing I’d taken a chance.”

With a wide smile, tears at the corners of his eyes, Virgil reached up and cupped Conrad’s face meaning to lean in and kiss him, until Conrad squeaked and laughed.

“Dear god, how are your hands still icicles?”

“Okay, fine!” Virgil chuckled, pulling down the sleeves of his sweater to try and cover his hands.

“I liked my way better.” Conrad said, grabbing Virgil's hand and leading him to the wide sofa where they stretched out together, Conrad lying on his back, Virgil lying half on Conrad and half on the sofa, his head resting on Conrad’s chest where he could hear the regular heartbeat. Sliding Virgil’s hands back under his shirt and gently stroking his face, Conrad placed a finger under his chin and raised it to place a soft kiss on his lips.

The afternoon passed agreeably slowly, no huge burning fires of passion, just smouldering affection with plenty of tender kissing.

“Why did we resist this for so long?” Conrad sighed, resting against the sofa cushions, his arms wrapped around Virgil, his right hand stroking his head. Craning around to look down, he noticed that his beloved Virgil had actually fallen asleep. Smiling, he wondered if that wasn’t the most sensible idea of the moment and closed his eyes, dozing off within moments.

Conrad woke first, looked down at Virgil and gently ran his thumb over his brow. Virgil stirred and opened his eyes, shifting to prop his chin on Conrad’s chest and smile up at him.

“How did you get that?” asked Conrad, lightly tracing the scar on Virgil’s forehead.

“It’s so stupid.” Virgil laughed. “I smacked my head on the corner of a Caution – Mind your Head sign.”

“Doofus.” Conrad shook his head. “Are we staying in for dinner?”

“Yes, and I am delighted to invite you to join me eating a bowl of cereal.”

“Cereal?”

“I was gonna go grocery shopping but we ended up doing rescue stuff, on my day off I would like to remind you, and then we sort of got side tracked kissing and snoozing.”

“Mmm, kissing and snoozing, definitely better than shopping. I have food back at the apartment. Ooh, is that a real fireplace, like logs and stuff?”

“Yes.”

“Romantic. I’m gonna go grab some stuff and I’ll be back asap, ok?”

“Don’t be long.” Virgil pressed a kiss to Conrad’s lips as he groaned, replying without pulling away, “Baby, this is not helping.”

Conrad wriggled out from Virgil’s arms, planted a quick kiss on his forehead and headed for the door, turning and winking. As the door closed, Virgil stifled a giggle, him and Conrad? That was actually a real thing? Not just imagination? They were an item? Admittedly only a few minutes old, but an item nonetheless. He hurriedly built a fire in the grate, lighting and wafting at it with a tourism brochure until flames crackled. The chalet, being one of the high end variety, had come with a couple of complimentary wine bottles, so he grabbed a pair of glasses from a cupboard and set them on the low coffee table. Next he dashed to the bathroom and closely examined his hair, nudging it here and there with a comb, and deciding, reluctantly, that he didn’t have time for a shower or change of clothes into something smarter. A shave maybe? Perhaps not, but a quick squirt of body spray?

Back in the shared apartment, Conrad’s roommates, all fellow Pride attendees he had met through an online forum when sorting out resort accommodation, were getting ready to hit the town and make some noise at a karaoke bar. From the cupboard, Conrad took the various ingredients he had stocked up on, the others preferring to splash out on ready meals or takeouts while he would cook from scratch. With no idea quite how the evening would go, he stopped in his room and grabbed a change of clothes and his toiletry bag. If he stayed in the apartment, experience had taught him his roommates would stumble in at some hour between midnight and four in the morning, in various states of sobriety from “just a bit tipsy” to “will not remember this when I wake up” and waking him up. It was way too soon to spend a night with Virgil but in the same apartment as him, on the sofa for example, that might be a possibility. His skis could wait until the following day, as could the rest of his kit.

By the time he was heading back to Virgil's, carrying his holdall and a grocery ‘bag for life’, a light snowfall had started and a cool breeze was blowing. His cheeks were slightly pink and snowflakes were melting on his eyelashes when Virgil opened the door and thought he had never seen anything so lovely. Standing back to let Conrad enter, if Virgil saw the holdall said nothing about it, as Conrad kissed his left temple and went to the kitchen and unpacked the supplies.

“All of this?” Virgil smiled.

“Sure, you hungry?”

Conrad had bought juicy tomatoes and mozzarella along with a bottle of premixed olive oil and balsamic vinegar dressing, as well as breaded chicken filets, fresh pasta and a jar of green pesto.

“Sorry the pesto’s in a jar, if the ingredients weren’t so damned expensive at the resort shop I’d make it. Also, the apartment kitchen has only the basic equipment. And I don’t have dessert.” he said, looking around the open kitchen for cutting boards and knives.

Biting his lip, blushing a little, Virgil opened the compact freezer, showing three tubs of ice cream.

“That’s sorted then? Oh hang on, what flavours?” he looked at the labels and nodded, of the three tubs, only one was a flavour he never really liked.

While Conrad sliced the tomatoes, Virgil opened the bottle of white wine which had been chilling and offered him a glass.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Um, drain the mozzarella and either slice or shred it, however you want, the pasta’s fresh so won’t need a lot of cooking and we’ll shallow pan fry the chicken.”

Virgil, who always enjoyed cooking, was happy to help and suggested digging out some music whereupon they found their tastes didn’t fully overlap but they lighted on a good compromise swaying and singing along while they prepared dinner.

Once it was ready, Virgil carried the tomato and mozzarella salad to the table which he had hastily set, while Conrad prepared the next course to be cooked once they’d finished their starter.

“No candles I’m afraid.”

Conrad waved a hand, they’d have plenty of opportunities for candlelit dinners. Settling at the table, they began to eat, chatting about work and families before Conrad asked Virgil, “Did you always know?”

“Know what? That I was gay? Um, yeah I think so. I don’t recall a moment of epiphany where it was, like, ‘Oh my god! I like boys? What the hell is that!’ You?”

“Pretty much the same, I’d always felt a little bit different and I must’ve been around twelve when I started to wonder and about two years after that I knew. I didn’t really talk about it to anyone though. School wasn’t exactly anti lgbtq and all the rest of the alphabet, they had loads of “we’re inclusive, we celebrate diversity” kind of things, but at the same time, it was very much, just don’t talk about it. There was bullying, obviously, so those of us who were different in any way, even straight boys, just kept ourselves to ourselves. I’ve got to be honest though,” Conrad finished, collecting the plates and going back to the kitchen so Virgil couldn’t see him blush, “I’ve never had a boyfriend, ever.”

He concentrated on cooking the chicken, hoping to dispell his flusteredness, while Virgil oversaw cooking the pasta, telling Conrad a little of his history.

“The guy I went to prom with, he wasn’t my boyfriend but one of my best friends who wanted to make sure I wasn’t alone which was kind of him. I think, though, he was sort of questioning his own orientation and wasn’t sure of himself and his identity. We didn’t dance or anything, but we did go together. Am I- um… Have you-” Virgil took a breath, “Am I the first guy you’ve ever kissed?”

“I said I’d never had a boyfriend, I didn’t say I was a hermit!” Conrad joked, washing his hands and flicking the water at Virgil. “It’s just been a few slightly inebriated kisses at a couple of gay clubs, but not for the past year or two. I’ve been more focused on Space Hub which doesn’t leave huge amounts of time for socialising. You see, this is what gets me, straights never have this sort of conversation, do they? You never hear them ask each other ‘so when did you realise you were straight’ or listen to them tell you about the time they snuck out of the house after their parents were asleep to go the straight bar down the road, working up the courage to come out to the family as straight!”

The main course was ready, so they returned to the table, pausing to choose one of the ice cream tubs and taking it from the freezer to soften up in the ambient temperature.

“I’ve had one boyfriend only.” said Virgil.

“Really? Only one? I’d’ve thought guys would be throwing themselves at you.”

“Not so much, I mean, we keep our private lives pretty private and although there’s always some gossip going around about us, there’s never been anything solid in terms of evidence. Like, there’s no photos of me out on a date with a guy. Gutter press seems happier to cast Scott as the billionnaire playboy with a new girl every six months which is completely wrong, to my knowledge he’s had maybe four, maximum five girlfriends since he was seventeen. They don’t have much on John so they don’t post about him, they don’t seem all that interested in the rest of us so it’s actually pretty chill. But in my freshman year a college, I met Chris. Son of Frederick Lowell.”

“Frederick Lowell, the world parliament senator?” asked Conrad, aware of Lowell and his strictly conservative views.

Virgil nodded. “So Chris and I got to know each other and started dating but kept it not under the radar as such but not shouting from the rooftops. For most of our second and third years at college we lived together, not just roommates but full on living together, sharing a room, sharing a bed. Both our families knew about me and Chris, I’d met them when they came down to visit. And then, Christmas of our fourth and final year we flew from Denver up to Connecticut where they were living, and on Christmas Eve, the Lowells were throwing this huge party for all the local elite.”

Virgil sighed, although he no longer felt any pain over the situation. “So there’s maybe two hundred or so guests, huuuuge party, and Frederick calls for quiet because he has a speech to make. Now I assumed it had something to do with his political ambitions, but no, he announced, to loud applause, that his eldest son Christopher-”

“Your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend. Was engaged to Miss Estella Marshall. I stared at Chris, because I’d assumed this was all news to him, and that his father had blindsided him with this fait accompli, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that he’d known what his dad was going to say and just hadn’t had the guts to warn me about it in advance.”

“Fucking hell, pardon my French, what an arse! So, who was this Estella strumpet? Did she know about Chris’s sexuality?”

“Strumpet? Do you Brits actually use that word on a regular basis? Like in actual conversation?” Virgil snorted, relieved that Conrad had managed to lighten the mood, “No clue if she was aware of Chris being gay, but Estella’s mom was a Griswold and her father’s descended from the Astors, so given how politically motivated Chris’s dad is?”

“Yeah, I see, marry his son off to the heiress of two seriously old money families and you have friendly voters in your pocket. But what did Chris say to you? Did you confront him?”

“After the announcement of the engagement, I could never find a moment alone with Chris, it’s like his parents had set minders on him to make sure we wouldn’t talk and he didn’t answer any calls or texts. And we weren’t in neighboring rooms, they’d put us in separate bedrooms on opposite sides of the house, so it wasn’t like we could open our windows and communicate like that. The following morning, I came down to breakfast and his parents…. You could cut the tension with a knife and they made it pretty clear that I was not welcome. So I retreated to my room and stayed there, called Scott and left the same day.”

“On Christmas Day? Oh my god, that’s horrific! Has he ever been in touch since then?”

“He tried calling the week after Christmas, as soon as he realized I’d gone, but Scott answered the phone. I have never seen my brother so angry and he used words I didn’t know he knew. I’m glad it was only a phone call because if Chris had come to visit in person, Scott might’ve ended up spending his days wearing an orange jumpsuit instead of his blue flight suit. After Christmas, I went back to Denver, cleared out all my stuff from our apartment and left before he came back for the new semester. It was my name on the lease too, and I had bought most of the furniture myself so when Chris came back he had to pay to get everything out of storage where the landlord had stowed it and find himself somewhere to live. A lot of his buddies had heard about what had happened and refused to speak to him or let him couch surf so he ended the year really isolated and totally flunked his finals.”

“I should hope so too!”

“So…” Virgil asked, trying to keep his voice steady, “How much longer are you gonna be on my side of the planet?”

Conrad shrugged, “As long as you like.”

“What?”

“Hub has offered me a permanent placement in Wellington, doing a few training sessions a year and continuing my work up in space. The space location of the hub hasn’t changed and to be honest, where I live doesn’t really matter, as long as it’s on one of the earth-side hub sites with a direct shuttle link. And New Zealand has skiing, beaches and now – just to seal the deal – my gorgeous, brave, wonderful boyfriend!”

Virgil’s eyes were filling with tears, “You’re actually gonna be less than a day away from me.”

“Sweetheart, I was always less than a day away. How long does it take to fly to Slough? Less than a day. And how long did it take your chubby green tub to come rescue me?”

“Hey!” Virgil pointed, “No-one calls my ‘Bird a chubby tub except me.”

They both laughed, finished their dinner and tidied the table, grabbing the ice cream and two teaspoons, stretching out on the sofa and propping their feet on an ottoman rather than the glass topped coffee table.

A buzzing sound from Conrad’s pocket announced a text. Checking it, he saw it was a message from Ianthe asking how Pride was going and whether his roommates were letting him get any sleep.

“What should I answer?” he asked.

“Selfie time!” Virgil replied, taking the phone and switching to camera, then pressed his lips to Conrad’s cheek as Conrad grinned and made a heart shape with his hands.

“Let’s see? Aw, that’s nice.” he hit send without adding a message and waiting less than three seconds until a reply arrived.

I: omfg is that virgil? Like actually him??

C: Yes he came to Pride. Chilling at his place after an eventful day

I: eventful how?

C: helping a skier who’d shot right off the piste into a gully.

I: ffs Con!! trouble follows u around! Every time you and V get together someone needs a rescue

C: he started it!

Conrad sent a string of laughing emojis, to which his sister replied with facepalm ones, followed by the one wearing a party hat, heart eyes and some champagne flutes.

The ice cream was tasty, but quite rich so they only polished off half the pot, putting the rest back into the freezer for another time. The rest of the evening was spent reading, the occasional smooch, until it was almost ten o’clock.

“Did you wanna stay?” Virgil asked, hurriedly adding “There’s a second bedroom.”

“I’d love that.”

Given that they knew they would see each other first thing next day, they neither felt the need to stay up until midnight, content to kiss each other good night at around ten.

Before removing his glasses and turning the light off, Virgil sent a snap of him and Conrad on his own phone to Scott with a happy emoji.

On Tracy Island, Scott checked his phone and grinned.

“About damn time.” he said.