"THE FIRE"

'Sometimes all it takes is some quiet reflection'

Standard Disclaimer applies – These characters are not mine.

The balcony of the Tracy Villa had long been a useful haven of escape for those on Tracy Island. A secluded spot for an evening drink, a place of quiet solitude to reflect, or, in his case, on more occasions than he could count over the past few years, a private location to offer words of fatherly advice on just about every subject on the planet.

He liked standing out on the balcony.

Especially at the moment when he needed to simmer down.

They didn't disagree often; in fact, for a household of adult men, they hardly disagreed at all. It often crossed his mind sometimes that things were almost too good to be true. Five sons who loved and respected their Father; a Father who loved and respected each of them in return; five brothers who'd looked out and cared for each other ever since the day they'd been born.

Well, if that was the case, what in the hell had just gone wrong back there?

He'd never witnessed an argument between his sons quite as severe as this one. To say it had totally floored him was the understatement of the year. Sure, they all had their differences of opinion at times. They knew that. He knew that, too. Why else did he insist on a thorough debrief after each and every rescue? The answer was simple, in his thinking. He insisted on it because it was an avenue for his boys to get things off their chests and to appreciate each other's opinions and judgements. It had never been a forum for finger-pointing or accusation.

Until now.

Jeff Tracy suddenly found himself concentrating hard on the colours of the setting sun. The sky rewarded him with a vivid combination of oranges, pinks and reds. He tried to breathe deeply and admire its magnificence. Funny how he only ever tended to notice these things whenever there was argument.

It was then he also noticed the painful churning in his gut and realised, despite the distraction, it was going to be a long time yet before he began to simmer down.

He couldn't believe it. He simply couldn't. The whole thing had blown up like dynamite, and almost completely without warning.

Alan was the one who had started it. He'd been far too forthright about the delay in the actual handling of the rescue. Scott had taken offence at the inference immediately and had risen to his feet, threatening to knock some common sense into him. The delay had had nothing to with it, he'd barked, his eyes boring all the way through Alan's. Even if had, there was still no excuse for Alan to have barged in there half-informed, half-cocked and try to do the impossible. It was irresponsible. It was stupid. And it was about time he thought before he acted for a change. One of these days he was going to get himself killed.

The next thing he knew it was on. Everyone lost their cool. Even the easy-going Virgil and Gordon swung around and lost their tempers. John cut communications from the satellite in a rage.

Jeff pursed his lips together in grim recollection as his mind pored over each individual component of the rescue.

Granted, Scott had delayed going in because he and John had argued over what degree of stability was still left in the burning building. Granted, it was one of those rare occasions where both of them were probably wrong. Right or wrong, it hadn't affected the outcome of the rescue. The building hadn't completely fallen until after everyone was out.

Yes, Alan had taken a stupid, mindless risk which in the end had nearly cost Virgil his life. Yes; Virgil, in going in after him, had demonstrated a complete and utter disregard for his own. It was pointless continuing to dwell it. Virgil had managed to get Alan out just before the building fell.

And Gordon ... hell he didn't know how to explain what had gotten into Gordon. Gordon knew damn well it was dangerous to go back in and try to haul the last two victims out. Especially, as Scott had pointed out, when the building was almost a complete inferno when he decided to take the risk and do it. Scott was right of course, but the bottom line was that the Firefly had been able to withstand the temperature long enough for two more lives to be saved. What Gordon had done was a gamble and, fortunately, the gamble had paid off.

Jeff began to tap his fingers impatiently on the ornate iron railing.

What should have been said and would have been said if he'd been given half an opportunity; was that even though what had happened today was unacceptable, it also needed to be put in perspective. Despite the significant deviations from their usual procedures, International Rescue had still managed to wrench ten people from the jaws of certain death and somehow survive the experience to come home.

With that his brow furrowed and his eyebrows knitted tightly.

What also needed to be said, and he had no qualms whatsoever about saying it either; was, unless they tightened up those procedures, the next time they deviated, one of them might not be so lucky.

"Your drink, Mr Tracy."

The quiet, controlled voice of his long standing friend and confidante echoed from the doors behind him. Turning, he motioned Kyrano forward to join him at the railing.

"I trust things rest better with you now, Mr. Tracy," Kyrano continued, moving to place the tray on the nearby table. He paused for a few moments before offering Jeff the glass. "You appeared to be much concerned."

Instantly Jeff Tracy felt bad.

Much concerned.

Now there were two good words for his outburst of bad-mannered aggravation. He knew without anyone telling him he'd barked at Kyrano like a bear with a sore head after the volatile debriefing. The words "Kyrano get me a blasted drink and get the damn thing for me right now!" sounded ten times worse now he'd had fifteen minutes to think about them.

The words replayed again.

No, on second thoughts make that twenty times worse. There was no excuse for venting his frustration on Kyrano. Why he tended to be terse and overbearing when he was worried was something he still couldn't figure out. It wasn't as if he didn't realise he did it.

"Oh hell, Kyrano, I'll be OK when they all cool off." he finally growled in a tone of gruff dismissal. "And I'm sorry about the way I spoke to you earlier. You know what it's like when these things happen around here."

The face of the Malaysian retainer remained characteristically unmoved. Jeff Tracy had to admire his iron self-control. Always so calm, always so cool… nothing seemed to faze Kyrano. Sometimes he wondered if his old friend even felt the same worry he did when International Rescue left base on a mission. He supposed he did even if he didn't show it; especially when his precious daughter was on board.

The moment Tin-Tin became the centre of his thoughts, Jeff's mind filtered back to the near disaster of the Sun-Probe. Somehow at the last minute International Rescue had managed to pull that off, too. How they managed it, he still didn't know. He'd never forget how useless he had felt as two of his sons and Kyrano's only daughter drifted aimlessly toward the sun. It still tore him clean in half whenever he thought about how close he had come to losing them.

Jeff shrugged and allowed the mellow liquor to burn a welcome trail down the back of his throat. Probably better not to think about it. Thinking made a man uneasy.

The gentle silence of the dusk now completely surrounded the Tracy villa. He knew he was being optimistic, but maybe force of habit would be the catalyst for his sons to settle down. Maybe Scott, who enjoyed nothing more than a stiff drink in the evening, would join him on the balcony. Maybe Virgil would saunter down into the lounge and begin to tinker on the piano. Maybe Gordon would choose to start his evening ritual of training. Maybe the two shadows would walk side by side on the beach, carefully disguising their intertwined hands.

Suddenly he frowned at the noise emanating from the kitchen. Well, one thing was for sure. His mother hadn't settled down. He shook his head as the noise continued to escalate. Something told him rather clearly that preparing supper was the last thing on her mind.

"I fear there is still much tension within our walls, sir," Kyrano finally observed.

"And not all of it pent up inside my sons it seems." Jeff grimaced as another saucepan crashed down heavily on a bench.

"Mrs Tracy is most unhappy at what has occurred."

"Yeah well, she's not the only one around here, Kyrano." His voice trailed off into the breeze as his eyes met the horizon. "Believe me old friend ..." he sighed, "…she's not the only one."

The two men continued to stand side by side on the balcony. It was going to be another beautiful evening. Waves lapped the rapidly darkening shore; the breaking of water the only sound to be heard above the violent clanging and banging.

Kyrano remained intentionally silent.

Jeff Tracy sought refuge in his glass of saving grace.

"Hell, why aren't they down there yet, Kyrano?" he suddenly blurted out with a growl. "Since when haven't those two taken every opportunity to be together?"

Kyrano pondered for a few moments on the wisdom of revealing what he knew. "Those two" were down there all right but unless some sort of miracle had occurred in the last forty five minutes, he seriously doubted they were together.

Tin-Tin had been dismayed at Alan's outburst during the debriefing and had followed him in earnest after he stormed his way out of the lounge. She had finally managed to stall him halfway down the stairwell, urging him to turn around and face her with a gentle and persuasive hand. Had he given thought to the fact he might have been at fault, this time? Maybe it wasn't too late to go back and apologise to his brothers?

From what Kyrano saw, Alan had simply glared at her with smouldering eyes and warned her to keep out of it. For a start she hadn't been there, secondly she wouldn't know and thirdly, he was tired of being treated like a child when it came to International Rescue and that included by her.

Then he had turned away, cheeks red, striding angrily towards the beach. Moments before, she had walked away too … in completely the opposite direction.

"I believe they may have quarrelled, sir," seemed the safest thing to say, rather than pass any judgement.

With that Jeff rolled his eyes and swallowed what little scotch he had left in the bottom of his glass. The last thing he needed around here was the boy upsetting young Tin-Tin too. He waited for Kyrano to elaborate so he could try to figure out the extent of the damage.

"Great," was all he managed to groan when Kyrano made very sure he didn't.

It didn't take too much imagination to conjure up the image of what would have happened, with his youngest firing on all cylinders and Tin-Tin standing firm trying to talk some much-needed sense into him.

A shadowed figure wandering aimlessly amongst the palm trees soon took his mind off Alan.

His face fell. It was obvious Scott didn't have any intention of joining him on the balcony soon. Jeff supposed he couldn't blame him. Scott hated making errors of judgement and no doubt needed to be alone for a couple of hours to figure out how the heck it had happened. That, or beat himself up for endangering the lives of his brothers.

The light burning in the suite above him indicated Virgil wasn't very happy either. When Virgil was unhappy he isolated himself from everything; his family, his beloved Thunderbird, and his precious grand piano. And it was fairly safe to say Virgil had been more than just a little unhappy when he'd left the lounge after the debriefing. Virgil rarely lost his temper over anything. Jeff knew he'd stew about his loss of self-control for hours.

A gigantic splash into the dark end of the pool instantly caused his spirits to lift. Thank God, he breathed, glancing gratefully up towards the heavens. At least one of them was letting it out.

He almost relaxed long enough to share his relief with Kyrano until he suddenly noticed the almost animal urgency with which his son's powerful shoulders ploughed his body through the water. Jeff knew right then his relief was destined to be short-lived.

Pushing his body past its capabilities was the only way Gordon knew to deal with anything, including anger.

Jeff looked down at his empty glass and contemplated the value of another drink. It mightn't help the situation, but the way he was feeling at the moment, it sure as hell wouldn't hurt.

"Son; I'd like a word with you in private if I may."

The voice was low and expectant and he'd been waiting for it ever since the banging and crashing had finally eased off in the kitchen. Without flinching, he acknowledged the presence of his elderly mother, who stood in the doorway; a scotch for herself in one hand and a larger one for him in the other.

"Sure, Mother. Come and sit down," he nodded, indicating the two empty seats nearby.

Almost immediately he shot a glance in the direction of Kyrano. Kyrano politely bowed his head and proceeded to excuse himself. Both of them knew while Josephine Tracy banged, crashed and otherwise expressed herself in the privacy of the kitchen there was nothing much to worry about. When she lowered her voice and placed herself in charge of the scotch bottle that was something else again.

As the balcony doors closed and Kyrano disappeared from view, Jeff moved to seat himself beside her. He reached over to relieve her of the larger glass. "I gather that's for me then." he said.

"You gather correctly," she replied, allowing him to take it. "I assume, like me, you still feel the need for something strong."

Josephine Tracy was never one to stand on ceremony. Before he could even answer she steeled herself, swallowed half the contents of her own glass and looked him squarely in the eyes.

"I don't know about you, Jeff, but I didn't like what just went on in this house … "she announced in her usual no-nonsense tone, "...and I want whatever caused it sorted out well and truly before anyone thinks twice about laying their head on a pillow tonight."

The expectation in her eyes warned him he'd better be careful about what he chose to say next. She was bristling enough already without adding fuel to her fire. Of course she wouldn't have liked what went on. She lived for her family and had zero tolerance for anyone who upset the balance by engaging in unproductive arguments.

Nine times out of ten he would be the first to agree with her.

Not this time. This time the argument was about the rescue business and when it came to how he handled International Rescue, she was well outside her jurisdiction. Life in the rescue business was dangerous. Things tended to blow up under stress. When they did, she needed to understand it was necessary to give his boys the freedom to say exactly what they thought.

Hmmm…he mused, remembering the less than gentlemanly language his sons had exchanged with each other in the lounge …maybe not with quite as much expression perhaps but on the whole still necessary.

"I know what you're saying, Mother. I'm sorry." He smiled, patting her hand in gentle reassurance. "I guess the boys tend to get a bit carried away in the face of a near miss."

That seemed enough to pacify her long enough that he could catch his breath. Unfortunately, the momentary reprieve didn't last for very long.

"Well, near miss or no near miss, son," she started on him firmly, "I know what I heard those boys say to each other in there and as their grandmother I know it wasn't healthy. You might not think I understand how this rescue business works but when it comes to how it makes them tick, I'm afraid you've got to accept I know more than you give me credit for. They're brothers first, no matter what, and a family never lets the sun go down on an argument without making amends. Your father would never have allowed it to happen and I'm exactly the same."

He started to dismiss the pointed reference to his father and all of a sudden thought better of it. No matter what he came up with his Mother would always champion his father's methods as the only way to head the family. Pity his father never had to deal with the highs and lows of a multi-billion dollar rescue organisation.

"Mother, let me assure you I don't intend to let the matter rest," he stressed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He knew he was about to displease her. "But the way I see it, a good night's sleep is what they need right now, not some long-winded family discussion."

"No…" he continued, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than his mother "…forcing the issue with any of them at the moment is only going to make the situation worse."

Josephine Tracy had no hesitation in throwing down the challenge. With the flick of an annoyed wrist she indicated Gordon in the swimming pool below.

"So what your son's doing to himself down there is making the situation better for him then, is it? "

Now it was Jeff Tracy's turn to feel displeased. It was hard not to feel annoyed when she refused to get the message. To make matters worse, she also knew exactly what jagged his nerves and any reference to Gordon's health was a sure fire way to do it. Gordon only had to grimace and he started panicking sideways.

"No, Mother, it isn't good for him. However, he is more than well aware of his physical limitations these days," he finally replied, and he was surprised at the tightness with which he said it. And the fact that he stood firm in his decision not to say anymore. She'd soon realise his lack of communication meant he was happy with the way he intended to handle things.

The silence between them magnified as the minutes ticked slowly by.

"Well, all I can say is I hope you know what you're doing, son." she eventually murmured, the discontent in her voice obvious. "…because I'm telling you right now I'm more than a little disappointed."

He bit his lip and remained steadfastly silent. He was sorry she didn't understand his decision but contrary to her belief, she wasn't the only one around here who knew how each of his boys ticked.

He was doing the right thing.

They needed the night to think things over and then he'd take control of the situation. He would order a second and thorough debrief. All communications would remain open. There would be no opportunities to argue or apportion blame. Only the mission would be discussed. Only critical errors would be identified. He would remind them what International Rescue stood for and what the outfit had been created to achieve. He would applaud them for their bravery and acknowledge a job well done.

Then he would deliver the message all of them needed to remember the next time he commissioned the Thunderbirds to fly.

All of them were to tighten up communications and watch each other's backs.

Because the message was clear that if they didn't …

The next time they might not be so lucky.