Last chapter, AKA: epilogue, BKA: this time, I mean it. ;) My students could go on and on with that... CKA, DKA ... the whole "also known as" thing having been glossed right over, in kid-speak. Anyhow, thanks, guys. It's been loads of fun. Edited!

43

Tracy Island, down in rocket bay 3-

Having ridden thunder and flame from the blackness of Heaven to flowering Earth, Alan and Gordon saw to the crimson Bird. Slowly. See, there were ionized gases, alien microbes and hard radiation to deal with, before anyone could approach that still-settling rocket, or disembark. Took about fifteen minutes, all told. (Although, in a pinch, you could force-shield your crew, and pile out much quicker. John had shown him how to do that.)

Anyways, they'd waited till low Earth orbit to wake Scott and them, who really did need the rest. From long, hard experience with accidental nudity, every Bird carried a set of everyone else's uniforms, gloves and boots. Meaning that Scott, John and Virgil had something fresh to change into, after scrubbing down with handfuls of alcohol wipes.

Beech had cleaned himself up some, too, but had nothing to wear except for a blue IR tee-shirt and track pants. Kept his own boots on, though.

"Guess you're officially part of the team, now," Gordon had joked, seeing the chaos adept dressed in Scott's jogging gear. Then, connecting the dots at last, he blurted, "It's you! You're the one Caleb's looking for!"

"Caleb?" Beech repeated, growing suddenly quiet and still; thinking of things half-remembered and dimly seen.

"Yeah," Gordon told him, holding a trash bag out for all those used wipes. "Funny kid. Kinda gangly, more freckles than face, fast mouth."

"Oh," said Cody, chasing the echoes of memory. "Him. Others, too. There's Ja… other people waiting for us, besides Tracys… aren't there?"

Gordon rolled his eyes, warm gold in that darkened cargo hold.

"Trust me, Dude… it's gonna be packed. If we know 'em, they're here. Buddy and Ellie, Aunt Helen and all the cousins… Kayo even invited B-Rad, just to bug Scott. It's a zoo."

Kane shook his head at their foolishness. After all, his armour was more or less part of him, and he didn't care who was waiting, below. Could disinfect with a burst of sonics and mild radiation, besides. Still smelt like bacon and tinfoil, though.

Once they'd landed, everyone had to recover their "ground-legs". Wasn't so bad for John. His environment suit picked up the slack for space-weakened muscles, till he was able to manage, again. Alan recovered pretty quick, too. So did Gordon, who was used to moving from full-support water to on-your-own land. Scott, Virgil and Beech took longer to get on their feet. The Mechanic simply dialed up more power, mostly from Thunderbird 3. (Might have left a bit of invasive circuitry inside the sleek Bird… just in case.)

One way or another, it was an upright, awake and spiffed-up seven guys who strode through the hatch and down ramp, to a suspiciously empty hangar. All quiet, no one waiting… just the repair mechs and flitting Mini-maxes, busy with all the tasks of a post-landing rocket crew.

"Heh-heh," laughed Scott, artificially. "Sure is deserted in here. Guess everyone forgot us, huh, John?" (Digging his elbow into the astronaut's ribs.)

"What?" said the red-head, startled out of his thoughts. Eos and Jaeger had encountered an unfamiliar energy signature, and were tracking it down to its source. "Oh, right… nobody's here. I'm surprised."

Virgil bit his lip, hard, to keep from laughing. Without hair gel, his look wasn't perfect, but he'd peeled down his suit top and tied the sleeves around his waist, for effect. Figured that some tee-shirt-bound muscle would make Emma forget all about floppy hair and suicide missions. Meanwhile, Cody stood looking around, alert as a meercat sentry. Kane simply grunted and tromped down the ramp, making plenty of noise in the process.

Then, the lift-chime sounded, its doors opened up, and Jeff stalked through, looking grim and resigned; possibly the only guy present less at ease than the Mechanic.

"Hello, Boys," he started to say, when a small figure darted past him, popping straight out of frozen never-when. He was waving something over his head. Looked like a crayoned picture, or art project.

"Dad! Dad! Alan! Look! Look what I made!" Then, spotting the Mechanic and all those nother-other-brothers, Charlie stopped dead in his tracks. Gasping aloud, he blurted,

"Uh-oh… wait… oh, yeah… Suh-prise! I suhprised you, right?"

Gordon laughed, strode forward and scooped up his worried young son.

"For sure, Kiddo. They're plenty surprised. You totally shocked them."

Out the corner of his mouth, smile fixed in place like it'd been painted there, Scott asked,

"Can we stop pretending, now?"

…which was about when the party, in bits and draggles, came to them. Some of it, anyhow. Penny, Emma and Ridley O'Bannon rode down to hangar 3, next, having waited as long as they humanly could.

Once those doors slid open, all three were out. Lady Penelope swooped like a songbird, light and graceful, straight up that ramp to Scott, who enfolded her in strong arms and hungry, deep kisses. She responded ardently, forgetting everyone else in her need to just feel his presence, claw at his back, whisper his name.

Emma hadn't known what to wear; torn between uniformed severity and girly party togs. Had settled for skinny jeans and a long-sleeved grey top with embroidered flowers. She did not run to Virgil. Quite. Power-walked… that was all. Shoved him hard, when she got there, unable to speak very clearly. Didn't have to, though, because Taz murmured,

"Hey, Angel," and picked her right up off the metal ramp. He kissed her face, her neck and her shoulders, whispering reassurance that he was safe and whole, and he loved her. Only her, forever and always.

She hadn't meant to melt like a stupid teenager, but couldn't help herself. Virgil Tracy was irresistible, and he knew it; tall, muscled like a demi-god, black-haired and strikingly handsome, with his cleft chin and dark-lashed brown eyes. All that… and still so gentle. Completely restrained, when he chose to be. Deep in those kisses, that embrace, Emma almost forgot how to breathe.

As for John… well, he was something else, altogether; beautiful, shy, and highly dangerous when provoked. Also, just now unboxing love. He met Ridley halfway. Drew her close, and buried his face in that artfully braided auburn hair. Had to lift her some, to do it, in a moment that could have lasted a lifetime, for all he knew. Their kisses were tender. Questioning: 'Still?' And answering: 'Yes, always.'

She caressed the back of his tousled head and neck, breathed in his scent, not at all caring who saw, or what they made of it. Despite everything, the man she loved was back, and all she could do was kiss him, and cry.

More people showed up, then; laughing, talking and cheering them all (even Kane). Some remembered to call out "SURPRISE!" … but most simply settled for warm hugs and cold beer. They got swirled upstairs like seven leaves in a storm, and that's when things really started happening. Bunting and streamers decorated every surface that wasn't groaning with food or visitors. There was music, too, supplied by Max, who was DJ and head waiter, that day. Captain Taylor tended bar, keeping family and guests well-oiled. As far as he was concerned, it wasn't a good party without a few fights, broken furniture, some begettings, and at least one tipsy, table-top dancer.

All of this was very new to Kane and Beech, who stood there with untasted drinks, like two ice floes in a fast-running strait. Caleb had glommed onto Cody pretty quickly, though it was hard to talk over all that music, laughter and back-slapping.

Then, Cody forgot all about his discomfort, having spied the prettiest girl in the room, stuck in a corner, surrounded by uniformed Typicals. Jan. Didn't want to approach her through a crowd, so Beech simply concentrated, shifting some of that coiling entropy onto her panting, unworthy suitors. One spilled a drink down the front of his dress whites. Another suffered a sudden, unfortunate migraine. A third split his pants, while the two leftovers developed coughing fits (left target) and violent intestinal gas (right target). Caleb, too, had to stagger off, owing to nature's abrupt and inexorable summons.

A few seconds later, Janice Ming stood all by herself in the corner, looking relieved. Then, Cody went to her, still holding that unwanted intoxicant. She saw him coming, stiffened in surprise… then smiled in a way that unlocked everything.

The music had quieted (because of an unexplained speaker glitch). They could talk without shouting. She said,

"When I got the call, I thought: You've got to be kidding me! But then I figured: There's somebody waiting there, and if I don't do this… if I don't take the plunge… I'll spend the rest of my life missing him. And, here you are." Pale hair, wolf-eyes, and all.

Cody set down the drink to brush her soft cheek with his hand.

"Here I am," he agreed. "And I'll stay, or go, if you do. Whatever you want."

"Stay," she decided, changing her own life, and his. "We have a chance to do something major, here." Which was how and why a Beech came to be part of the New Crew. This time.

Elsewhere, Buddy and Ellie worked the room, describing their latest adventure schemes.

"The elusive Storm-Beast of Jupiter awaits! We'll risk our lives to track 'im down, won't we, Love?" bellowed Buddy, waving both arms and sloshing his drink all around.

"Soon's the ship's repaired," his cute blonde wife replied cheerily. "That last set-to on Ceres nearly did f'r us, eh, Bud?"

Their audience leaned closer, utterly rapt by the promise of shrieking winds, bone-cracking cold, and deadly radiation. All that time, the Mechanic was at a near-total loss. He'd never been surrounded by this many Typicals, without killing someone. Beech was gone, having spotted one of their d*mned females, and striding in to drive off competition. Virgil… Crash-Jockey… was distracted, as well. More of that clashing music-noise filled the air, while Typicals jerked and twitched to its thump. Made no sense whatever to Kane. Then, unbelievably, matters got worse.

"Yo, Robot-Bro! Peace n' love, Man! How's it hangin'? Reeled in, or swingin' loose?"

A scroungy-looking, adolescent Typical confronted him, with flat, spicy food on a plate, and some sort of video-hat.

"Have some pizza, my dude! Let it all hang out, yo! B-Rad, here, ready to rock an' roll with the main cyborg!"

All too much for the Mechanic, who simply hauled Brandon up off his feet by the shirtfront and hurled him across the room. The Typical stripling flew through the air, howling,

"Awesooooome!"

…until he crashed onto a table, breaking its legs and smashing the leftover cake. Rather muzzily, B-Rad popped out of the tinkling wreckage, saying,

"You saw it here, first, Peeps! Me an' Big Mech… hangin' out…!" Then, he collapsed again. Kayo and Scott got Brandon sorted, while Max cleaned up the mess. But, all evening long, no one else ventured near Kane, except Virgil.

Rigby had also been standing nervously off, unsure quite how to behave. The Survivor had tired himself out somehow, and was keeping a very low profile. Kayo came over, after a while, once the furor died down, and their guests were all back in party-mode.

"How're you holding up?" she asked, leaning close enough to be heard over music and noise. His eyes were less green now, she noticed. "Has your 'friend' taken off?"

The Marine shook his head, no. Shooting his cuff, Rigby revealed his left wrist, which appeared to be banded in some sort of olive-drab line-and-dot tattoo.

"He's resting, Miss Tracy. Apparently ran into a couple of… well… not his type, exactly… but close enough to be interesting. Not sure what happened, then, but he's tired out."

Kayo reached shyly out and traced the tattooed alien, touching the young man, beneath. Those dots seemed to shimmer and glow just a bit, as she said,

"You can call me TinTin, or Kayo. I answer to both."

He smiled at her; this beautiful, precious, green-eyed, incredible girl.

"Only if you'll call me Wayne."

"I could be persuaded," she joked, meaning, well… a lot of things. Aware that, finally, someone she wanted, wanted her back.

Not far away (as the drunk guy stumbles) Brains had nerved himself to approach Professor Moffat. Enough with foolish dithering. It was time for action, he'd decided. The music, the drink, or maybe just raw, IR courage had moved him to act, once and for all.

"M- Moffy," he said to her, taking the woman's right hand. "I w- would like to, ah… to m- marry you, here. Now."

Her blue eyes widened behind her glasses, as Vanessa Moffat's free hand flew up to tuck an errant strand of dark hair back into its bun.

"Now? But…"

"Now," he confirmed, gesturing broadly. "Are there not many, ah… many c- captains here present? S- Surely, one would officiate, and J- John has that ring."

Professor Moffat bit her lip to stifle a nervous giggle. Why not, indeed? WorldGov might take months or years to approve what a ship's captain still had the power to simply perform.

"Yes," she blurted excitedly. "Do lets, Hiram! It shall be like an elopement, here among friends!"

Squeezing her hand, Brains leaned in to kiss her cheek. Very chastely. Just a peck, for they hadn't yet wed. Then, still holding her hand, the engineer turned to face the room, cleared his throat and called out,

"Is there a c- captain in the house, willing to conduct a w- wedding ceremony?"

That got everyone's attention, in hushed, spreading ripples of quiet. Met with lots of responses, too. Lee Taylor, Emma Kraft, Ridley O'Bannon, Gordon Tracy and Alan came over, all of them ready and able to speak the right words. John, too, because he was best man, and best friend.

Emma and Ridley got into sort of a joking contest, with Kraft boasting,

"Mine's an actual ship."

While Ree countered,

"Mine's bigger."

At which Emma cracked up, snorting,

"Genetics, Hon."

It was Captain Taylor who finally did the honors, with everyone else's assistance. No ring? No problem. Rigby spoke up.

"If, uh… anyone's willing to donate some jewelry, I've got a friend who might be able to help."

Lady Penelope detached herself from Scott long enough to remove a pearl and diamond bauble; something she'd picked up in Paris.

"I should be most happy to help in the cause," she murmured, dropping the jewel into Wayne's outstretched palm. Helen Lydia Klein (once McCord) gave him a platinum brooch with stars woven in.

"Take it," she snapped, looking away. "Maybe it'll work better, for somebody else."

Rigby nodded.

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you," he said to the admiral's beautiful, steely-calm former wife. Then, prodding the Survivor to unleash some of that restructuring power, he closed his hand into a tight fist, and visualized a set of engagement and wedding rings. Something pretty and perfect, like Kayo.

What emerged, once he opened his hand, was straight out of an alien fairy-tale wedding. Delicate, new, and completely unique. Moffy gasped at its beauty; this ring of pearls, diamonds and filigreed platinum strands. Brains started to slide it onto her finger, but…

"No, ya don't!" Mrs. Tracy chided. "You ain't gettin' married in my house, without no dress an' no veil. Hold on…"

And she sprinted upstairs with Charlie, coming back down with a white-lace curtain, some pins, and a cream-satin bed sheet. Piper donated the pretty, silk-rosebud flower crown she'd been wearing, while Alan got his electric guitar, planning to join Max for the wedding march.

Said Lee, once the fripperies was all seen to, and everyone quiet,

"Guess it's my job t' say th' words, since I'm older n' most, an' purtier n' some I could mention." Looked sideways at Jeff when he said this, keeping a mostly straight face. Then, "'Pears that this fella and lady wants ta be joined. Got some questions, first." Turning to Brains, Captain Taylor asked,

"Doc, this here pretty lady… is she worth givin' it all up for, an' settlin' down? Ya willin' ta make things permanent, an' do right by her an' y'r kids, seein' as she's consented ta marry ya?"

Brains nodded fiercely, still holding tight to his bride's right hand.

"I am," he replied, quite clearly.

Lee smiled, nodded his satisfaction, and then turned to Vanessa.

"Perfesser… this fella's askin' f'r y'r hand. He ain't perfect… none of us are… but he's willin' ta hitch up and make some changes. Might work late. Might yell, sometimes, but he's a good man."

Maybe he glanced at Helen, too, when he said that.

"Figure pretty near anyone c'n make some changes, if they gets a first chance… or a second one. Ya willin' ta give it a go?"

"Yes, I am," said Moffy, looking radiant in gracefully draped satin and lace, holding tropical blooms in her trembling hands.

Lee's mustached face split into a seamed, beaming smile.

"Figure that's it, then," he told them all. "Y'r man an' wife. Nuthin' left but the ring, an' the blessin'."

Sally Tracy took care of that, once Brains took the ring from John, and slipped it on Vanessa's slim finger. Wrapping her worn old rosary beads around the couple's twined hands, she said,

"God…"

"All of them," Brains cut in, with a smile and slight bow.

"…bless this union, amen," Grandma finished up. Then Lee urged,

"That's it. Kiss 'er, quick, Doc, 'fore she changes 'er mind."

So, Brains kissed his new wife, as Alan played the wedding march with plenty of reverb, and everyone cheered. The floral bouquet was tossed in the air, and caught by a startled Caleb, just back from the bathroom. (Fell on him, actually. Did that count?)

There wasn't anything quick about Brains' and Moffy's first kiss, though. Not quick, at all.