Payment in Kind

Disclaimer - For the last time (in this story), Kripke owns the boys in the Impala and Andersen owns the lads in the Thunderbirds. I own the foot (or more) of snow due in the next twenty-four hours. And a new shovel, oh, goody. And if one person rubs in about great weather were they are...

Chapter Twenty Six

Dean made his way back down the stairs to the subway platform, only to be halted by a member of the Boston police department. "I'm sorry, sir. This is an accident scene. You will have to go to the next station. That is…"

"Oh, no," Detective Pettit interrupted. "I am sure Mr. Winchester has so much that he can add to this investigation."

Glaring at the cop, Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and put his chin in the air. "Seriously, a detective investigating a mugging that went bad? Don't you guys have any mobsters or gang-bangers?"

Detective Simpson tugged at his partner's sleeve. "We have plenty of them as well. But there are reports of a disturbance at Mass General and we were asked to respond. And now there is this. The Commissioner is feeling the heat from the high mucky-mucks. Someone coming after a member of such a prominent and connected family isn't good for Boston's image."

Sarah pulled away from the medical examiner who had been asking her questions. "I would hope that the Boston PD would be as diligent for John Smith as they are for a member of my family."

Simpson placed a hand on Sarah's arm. "Of course we would, Woody. But the name Tracy makes the news. And repeated attacks on the son of a man with Jeff Tracy's prominence…well, no city wants that kind of rep, right?"

Her lips tight, Sarah nodded. "Fine. Are we done here? Dean and I had just grabbed some of Alan and Sam's stuff from the condos. We were on our way back to the hospital when I received a phone call. The man claimed to know who was behind the attack on our brothers. So we went to meet him in a parking garage. Next thing we know, we see a woman watching the hospital. When we tried to question her, she took off."

Nodding, Dean picked up the sanitized version of the story. "We chased her down here and what can I say…she got the drop on me. She wanted to shoot me. Red here-" he pointed at Sarah, "tossed some candy at her in an attempt to prevent her from shooting me. Unfortunately, the woman was, well, unbalanced." With a "swooshing" noise, he made a falling motion.

"The woman," interrupted the ME, "had some ID on her." The Medical Examiner shrugged at the puzzled looks being shot at her. "Hey, the body is gonna need some sponges to completely recover but her wallet was in her coat. And that was still intact. Anyone know one "Corrine Transom" or was she just a random nutcase?"

Pettit looked confused. "Wait. That was a file in Saba's office. She was an associate of…Holy crap, she was hooked up with that Hood guy. You know, the one who tried to murder the Thunderbirds several years ago?"

"Find a new bad guy?" Dean muttered, ignoring the glare the cops shot at him. Sarah only gave an amused smile.

Simpson spoke up. "I read a while back that the Hood had died in prison. And while the Cap was, um, talking to you, Pettit," the man looked abashed and everyone there would have loved to know the story behind that "a message came across that a known associate of his may be on the loose over here."

"Well, she was on the loose over here. And," Dean snarked, "over there, and there and a bit over there as well."

Sarah shook her head, trying her best not to laugh. To her amusement, she noticed that Simpson was having the same problem. Pettit, however, had what Gordon referred to as a "Queen Victoria" look of "We are not amused". When Dean looked to say something more, Sarah decided to intervene before he got himself arrested. What the exact charge would be Sarah was unsure of. Could you be arrested for being an annoying dufus? If that was the case, she thought, Gordy would be serving a life sentence.

"Marty, do you – or your partner – have any real questions for us? Because," Sarah continued when it looked like Pettit would say something, "I would think the statement, the security tape from the station camera and the fact that this was an international criminal with a prior history of violence while we are two citizens with clean records should be more than sufficient. And if you have any further questions, it may be in the best interest of all concerned for you to use that card and call our lawyers."

Pettit's face had gone deep red with the anger he was desperately trying to contain. Opening his mouth repeatedly, the detective looked as if he wanted to say something. To give the man his due, they could see when he acknowledged that the deck had been firmly stacked against him and he couldn't win the hand. As Pettit turned to walk away, Dean felt the slightest twinge of resentment. His family had worked for years, sacrificing any sense of normalcy, bleeding, suffering, hell, dying to protect others from the darkness most of them thought only existed in books or movies. But when Sarah Tracy stood between him and the law, suddenly people bent over backwards to accommodate her. Dean had come to realize that the Tracys would not abuse the power that came with the wealth and name. But it was still irritating that the family could insulate the Winchesters from the normal legal scrutiny that was so much a part of their lives.

"Dean," Sarah hissed, "C'mon, let's go."

Dean and Sarah turned to leave when Simpson reached out and grabbed Sarah's arm. "Woody, I know you. You wouldn't do anything illegal. But this whole situation…Well, frankly, this whole situation is…weird."

Sarah shrugged. "You should have seen it from our perspective."

Simpson dropped his hand and looked at her intently. "Do I really wanna know what has been going on?"

Dean cocked an eyebrow and held the door open for Sarah to go through. "Y'know, Dude…I really don't think you want to."

The door shut closed behind the pair as they hurried out of the subway station. Detective Simpson sighed as the sound echoed through the cavernous area. "No, I don't think I do want to."

In a room down the hall from where they had been previously, Alan watched groggily as a new nurse hooked up the new IV. He had some additional stitches and two broken fingers to add to his previous list of injuries. Looking at the bound fingers, Alan idly wondered how he had broken the digits. Probably when they were thrown from their beds, but in all honesty, he wasn't certain. The stitches were on his leg and from the glass shards pulled from the wound before it was stitched back up, they were fairly certain that the broken window was the cause of that injury.

Liz was running the scene like a drill sergeant. He had learned from the stream of chatter she had with Bobby that she was an Air Force brat, whose parents had retired near Offutt AFB, Nebraska when she was eight. The youngest of six children, Liz was the only one who had not joined the service. This, she had wryly explained, was why I moved half-way across the country from my parents. It was harder for them to nag me about it long distance. And now my nieces and nephews are donning Air Force blues. So of course, my parents now snipe about my lack of progeny. As if thirteen grandkids aren't enough…

Sam caught Alan's eye and the pair shared a smile, relieved that the whole mess was finally over. After a careful exam, both of them were given medication that was now making them drowsy. Frankly, Sam couldn't wait to go to sleep. Watching Bobby making eyes at Liz was…well, frankly, it was as bad as when he had realized Dad was no monk…

It hit Sam hard at that moment and he studied Bobby with more knowing eyes. Bobby may not be his father by blood, but the love was there. And if a relationship with the attractive nurse brought some joy into the older hunter's life, Sam was all for it.

And then he tried to assure himself that it was the meds causing the nausea.

Alan chuckled lightly. At Sam's puzzled look, he said softly, "Yeah, I know how you feel. I was fifteen when I realized a few home truths about my dad and a family friend. John pretty much confirmed it when he said dad never has a hotel room when he heads to London. I know he loved my mom and that will never change. I'm glad he has someone…well, someone special." Rolling his eyes, he leaned back into the pillow. "Of course, the first time I realized that they…kept each other busy, I had a hard time making conversation with either of them for a while. Bet you end up with the same problem." Chuckling once more, Alan drifted off to sleep, leaving Sam wishing desperately that the younger man hadn't left him with that mental image.

He would never sleep now.

Cheryl Bugsbee stormed out of the hospital, heading towards the employee parking area. Two weeks! Suspended for two weeks. I should sue, I should go to the papers, I should...

Look for a job elsewhere.

The voice seemed to come from nowhere and the smell of lavender was overwhelming. The nurse felt a presence behind her and turned slowly. Her eyes went wide when she saw a translucent blonde woman standing behind her. Your stupidity, ignorance and intolerance let that monster almost kill my son. Lucy glided slightly closer to the woman. I would love to expose you to the same risk you put my baby to.

Cheryl closed her eyes. It's not real, there is no such thing as ghosts, no, no, no... Opening her eyes, Lucy was now right in her face.

Boo.

Lucy smiled as the woman ran screaming towards her vehicle. As the car peeled out of the parking lot, the spirit nodded in satisfaction. She would bet anything that the nurse spent her suspension looking for a new job...or moving to a new state.

Dean and Sarah ran into Mass General, ignoring the seemingly sea of law enforcement personnel, making it all the way to the third floor before being stopped by a police officer. "Sorry, folks, but this area is being secured. You can't…"

"Woody!"

At the sound of Dr. Brackett's voice, Sarah pushed past the uniformed officer. "Doc. Alan, Sam…are they…I mean…"

The physician stood up shakily, still holding an ice pack to his head. "They're both alright. Some new bumps and bruises but they should be OK. And your uncle," he addressed Dean who had by now joined them, "is fine as well. Apparently, someone set off some kind of explosive device and then tried to get to the boys. From what the authorities can tell, he shot out a window in the boys' room and then when security was able to get through to the floor, he jumped out. The man was lucky, there is only a small ledge there; otherwise, it is three stories up and a brick sidewalk below."

"Any idea what you plan to do now, Mrs. Tracy?" Sarah and Dean both stifled a groan at the sound of Detective Pettit's voice. "I mean, with the suspect not apprehended, your brother-in-law is still in danger."

"I doubt that," Dean said before he mentally bit his tongue.

Detective Simpson had caught up with his partner and he looked puzzled. "Is there something you are not telling us, Mr. Winchester?"

Dean was always the better scammer of the brothers, so he took a flyer. "Well, we – my brother and I, that is – have suspected that everything else that happened to Alan was done by some kind of hired guns. With the new info, that that Train Wreck chick, was an escaped criminal, I'll bet ya anything that it was her that was behind the attempts on Alan."

"Go on," Simpson looked intrigued while Pettit looked annoyed. Sarah looked amused but tried to hide it.

"So we have one of two maybes. Either it was a series of situations set to throw Alan – who can usually take care of himself – off his game, so that he could be abducted for ransom or some scenario of protecting Alan from the attacks."

"Some form of extortion or other, right?" Simpson asked. Dean nodded while Sarah unobtrusively began to text Kate from her pocket. Within a few hours, all the info needed to support Dean's "theory" would be found in a drawer in the condo. She knew the police were planning a more thorough search of the property in the morning – one perk of being the owner – and they had already moved much of the paperwork from the hidden room into more obvious, yet still hidden, places.

"We'll look into it," Pettit said. He glared at Dean – who was rather used to it by now – and then turned the look on Sarah. "Mrs. Tracy, do you have anything you would like to add to this? Or would you like to just keep hanging out with criminal elements and interfering with an official investigation?"

Sarah did her best to channel Kate at that moment. "Listen Petty-boy. Dean's record is clean, you ran it yourself. And I was merely trying to protect Alan, same as Dean was trying to protect Sam. So you had best watch your trap, before I slap a defamation of character charge on you. The bad guy is dead, case closed. Now if nobody minds, can I have someone check where the psycho bitch who was the real criminal and not just the one in your twisted little mind shot me?"

"What the hell is going on?" Liz yelled down the hall. Sarah pulled off her dark coat, the blood on the sleeve of her pale blue cotton top now obvious. "Oh, God…Woody." She ran to her friend. "Oh, hon…" Liz glared at Pettit. "What are you thinking, you idiot? She needs to be examined, not harassed. Why don't you go direct traffic? Or better yet – play in it." Putting a gentle arm around Sarah's shoulder, she pulled Sarah down the hall. "I'll check it in the boys' room so that you can be assured that they are gonna be fine. Doctor Brackett – they are waiting for you in the ER, Dr. McCoy is waiting to check on you and you know she hates to be kept waiting. Dean, get to the room and get Sam to relax, he needs to sleep. Maggie, get me supplies to treat a minor GSR, then head down to Employee Health to get an all-clear. And Detective Simpson? Get that idiot out of my sight. Because any injuries I inflect, I don't repair."

As everyone scurried to do Liz's bidding, Pettit glared at his partner. "And why didn't you say anything? You just let her talk to me like that?"

Simpson shook his head and grinned. "Pettit, when you have been here a bit longer, you will know…You don't piss off certain people. And Liz Naylor is one of those people."

Sam blinked, trying not to fall asleep. He knew that Dean had succeeded in destroying whatever it was that was keeping the Hood – man, that is a worse name than Azazel (although not as bad as Uriel, which sounded a bit too much like urinal) – bound to their reality. But until he saw his brother with his own eyes, until he knew Dean was alright, Sam felt as if he couldn't relax.

Bobby came over and sat on Sam's bed, brushing hair from the younger man's face, much as he had when he was a boy. "You'll never become like him." His heart almost broke at the soulful eyes looking up at him. "Sam, yes, you have powers like the Hood. But you could never be like him. There is something wrong in people like him, something twisted and sick. You-will-not-be-like-that." Clenching Sam's hands in his, the two sat for a moment, Bobby praying that Sam was really listening to him…And Sam praying that Bobby was right.

"Sammy! Good to see you all bright and shiny." Dean paused a few feet from his brother's bed. "Well, awake at least."

Sam's face twisted as though he had just eaten something sour. Deciding to ignore his brother's banter, Sam relaxed, confident once more that with Dean there, everything would be alright. "So, I take it you got the bad guy? Nice little salt-and-burn?"

Dean stared at his brother wide-eyed, gesturing to Liz. "Dude!" He hissed only to stop as Sam chuckled drowsily.

"First, Liz knows about hunters. Seems old Daniel Elkins saved her from some vamps years ago. Second, she was here during the spirit's attack. Finally, apparently teaching someone how to handle ghosts is someone's idea of romantic small talk." Sam rolled his eyes and gestured his hand at Bobby, who sat there with a "cat that ate the canary – and the goldfish" look on his face.

His head twisting, trying to look over at Alan's bed, where Liz was patching up Sarah's arm, even as Sarah was fussing over her brother-in-law, before swinging back to stare at Bobby. Finally, he nudged his baby brother over and lay down next to him. "Sam, it must be another sign of the Apocalypse. We are both here and yet the hot woman falls for Bobby." Putting an arm around his brother's shoulder, he let Sam use him as a pillow, happy to feel Sam relax. Whispering to his brother, "But I learned something cool. Something even my genius kid brother could never guess in a million years."

"The Tracys are International Rescue."

Dean tensed and stared down at Sam before looking at Bobby. Seeing the grins on both men's faces, his mouth turned down and he sighed. One of these days, he was gonna get a jump on the bookworms, he swore…Feeling Sam relax further, Dean smiled slightly at the sight of his maybe-grownup but always baby brother snoring softly against his chest.

But not today. And as the sun began to rise in the Boston sky, Dean allowed himself to relax, joining his brother in sleep.

As the clean-up on the floor continued (luckily, there were only the half-dozen security rooms and a multitude of executive offices), everyone was careful to avoid the one occupied room. Liz Naylor had made it clear that all any of the occupants required was peace and quiet. She had procured cots to allow Sarah and Dean to rest and swapped out for a new sleeper-lounger for Bobby. Tired herself, Liz maintained a watch over the other five. Checking the younger people first, she made notes on Alan and Sam, before tugging up blankets on Sarah and Dean. The nurse began to move back towards Dean when the older brother began to toss and moan in his sleep. She looked over with concern, wondering if the events had been too stressful and Dean needed a sedative, when Sam reached out a hand in his sleep, putting his hand on his brother's arm. Liz smiled as Dean calmed at the touch. Placing her data pad on a low table, she left to place orders for breakfast. Liz would bet anything she was going to have some hungry people on her hands soon.

Jeff Tracy yawned as he stumbled through the villa. Too many sleepless nights could not be made up in five hours. The fingers of dawn was just lighting up the island. Coffee…oh, some coffee sounded so good right now. Onaha would still be sleeping, so he would just get a pot started and then head for his office. Once he had some caffeine in his system, Jeff would contact the hospital and see how Alan was doing. Maybe he should head out that way…

"Good morning, Mr. Tracy." Jeff clutched his chest in shock. Kyrano merely smiled enigmatically, several rubber boxes marked "Holiday Decorations", in the Oriental man's hands. "Onaha has coffee on. She can bring it to you either on the lanai or to your office. However, Kate is already at the breakfast table."

Smiling, Jeff moved to join his daughter-in-law for coffee. Pausing, he turned back to his loyal employee, saying, "You know, I think Alan and Tin-Tin are going to want to get married soon."

Placing down the boxes, Kyrano nodded as he began to open the top container. Pulling out a string of lights, he began to spread them out to examine the strand. "Yes, Alan spoke with me during the Thanksgiving Break. He wanted to ask for my blessings to marry my daughter. You have raised a fine young man, Mr. Tracy. He has great respect for traditions and his elders. I will be honored to be able to call him son, since Onaha and I have always viewed him as such."

Jeff nodded and gave a small smile. He began to leave the room, calling over his shoulder, "Hey, when the kids get married, will you finally call me Jeff?"

"Of course not, Mr. Tracy." Jeff chuckled as the comment followed him out to the patio. He sobered quickly at the sight of Kate tapping a pen to a pad of paper, sipping a cup of coffee before pouring another from a half-empty pot.

"I think you have been living on this island too long." Kate looked up at as her father-in-law walked towards her. At the confused look on her face, Jeff smiled. "You drink coffee like me and sleep as little as Scott."

Kate shook her head, adding cream and sugar before pouring a cup for Jeff. "Actually, I got the bad coffee habit from my father. And I will sleep better when I can see Alan again."

"You're not the only one," Jeff said grimly as he sat down at the table. "Where is Scott?"

"He fell asleep in DJ's room, after Jason fell asleep trying to get DJ to go to sleep." Kate shrugged. "We may not be telling the kids everything, but they know something is wrong."

"Children are far wiser and more sensitive than people give them credit for." Onaha came out to the lanai, carrying a tray with muffins and fresh fruit. Kyrano approached behind her, nodding.

"Kate, what did you want to talk to me about?" Jeff asked as he picked up a cranberry walnut muffin, cracking it open to spread butter on it.

Kate looked grim. "Onaha, Kyrano, you may want to stay for this." The couple looked confused, but stayed behind. "Dad, Sarah called. With Dean Winchester's help, they found out who is behind the attacks on Alan. Apparently, Transom had escaped from prison. But before she pulled a very masterful disappearing act, she kept a part of the Hood with her." Trying to ignore Kyrano's horrified look, Kate continued. "She used that part of him to pull off some kind of mystical mumbo-jumbo. Dad, it's the Hood again. He's been the one after Alan all this time."

Tears clogging his throat, Kyrano beseeched his employer, "Mr. Tracy, I…"

Jeff interrupted. "No Kyrano. I told you years ago, you are not responsible for the actions of the Hood."

"But he is my family."

"No," Jeff shook his head. "You are our family."

Kyrano straightened, giving a small smile and a nod. Abruptly, he turned back towards the house, muttering about "too much to do and not enough time." Onaha likewise excused herself, saying that the holiday baking needed done. Kate smiled as she squeezed her father-in-law's hand. "Nice touch, Dad. OK, so assuming that Dean and Sarah have everything wrapped up, Alan is still in no shape to stay alone in Boston. And school was due out in three days. Three of his professors have agreed to let him do make-up exams once he is medically cleared and his computer engineering agreed that the work he did as part of the design team for Tracy Aeronautics on the remote control air drone was more than proof that he had a firm grasp of real-world applications of classroom theory."

"So maybe I should head out to Boston. I mean," Jeff proposed, "someone should be keeping an eye on Alan during the flight back."

Kate shook her head and smiled. "Way ahead of you, Dad. I already made the arrangements. None of us have to leave."

Jeff raised an eyebrow but Kate merely smiled cheerfully. "In the meanwhile, the boys and I were talking last night. We were thinking, that considering the task was more challenging than we thought, that we might want to add a small bonus. Dad, the Winchesters do an impossible job for no pays and rare thanks. They deserve a reward."

"Clearing their records and giving them a legitimate source of income isn't enough?"

Cocking her head to one side, Kate sighed. "They made sure we didn't lose Alan. Because of them, Alan is coming home for Christmas. What price can you put on that?"

His eyes cast out on images only he could see, Jeff smiled. In his mind's eye, he could see a young Alan playing by the pool or an older Alan studying in a shaded chair. Casting his mind back further, Jeff could have sworn he felt the weight of a seven and a half pound baby being placed in his arms once more. The bright blue eyes popped open and stared up at his father with so much trust and adoration, and once more Jeff Tracy fell in love. Remembering the fear he felt at the times he thought he would lose Alan, Jeff nodded and patted Kate's arm.

"There is no price. OK, Kate. Go ahead with the bonus."

"Thanks Dad," Kate smiled as she stood up, pouring a cup of coffee to bring to her husband. "Lady P will take care of the transportation details. She feels guilty for not keeping an eye on Transom after the Hood's death and wants to help."

Jeff shook his head once more as Kate walked away. Atta-girl.

It took a great deal of sweet-talk and persuasion, but Dr. Brackett had finally agreed to sign both Sam and Alan out of the hospital that afternoon. While Sarah had been given the fifth degree by the anxious Tracys back on the Island, Sam and Alan had been feed and given a final check-up. Liz – technically off the clock – had taken Dean and Bobby across the street to a small diner for some "non-hospital food". As they walked back into the room, Dean was talking to Bobby.

"OK, I guess we can stay at the condo for a few days, just until Sammy can travel. The doc said he needs to rest for a few days and I still need the car repaired. Hell, I need to find out where they took my baby!"

Sarah breezed in at that moment. "Actually, Dean, your car is currently in route to Connecticut." At the appalled look on Dean's face, Sarah held up a hand. "One of the best classic car restorers in the country has a shop there. Ever hear of Johnny DeSoto?" Mentioning the classic car restorer who had the only Discovery Channel show that Dean would watch made the man's jaw drop. "He is going to repair the damage caused by Saba being made into scumbag pancake as well as anything else he can find, plus tune the engine, etc, etc. He will then put her on another flat-bed and ship her – covered, of course – to Singer Salvage of South Dakota."

"Why not bring her back here to us?" Sam asked. Sarah merely smiled. Any further questions were halted when Dr. Brackett entered the room.

"OK, as long as you will make sure Sam rests for a few days he should be OK to go. And Sarah, I am only releasing Alan to go home because your family has the infirmary and your sister-in-law is a doctor." He raised his eyebrows at the suddenly angelic look Sarah had on her face. Deciding that he was discovering there may be things about anyone named Tracy that he never wanted to know, Dr. Brackett continued on. "But if you are flying back, someone should be keeping an eye on Alan."

"I believe," a quiet voice broke in, "that is my job." An attractive Asian girl entered the room with a lean and lanky young man with glasses just behind her. Alan's face lit up at the sight of them.

"Tin! Fermat! I was supposed to pick you two up in California before going home for Christmas." Alan kissed his fiancée and bumped fists with his best friend.

"W-well," Fermat stuttered, "my dad c-called to say wh-what was h-happening and we d-decided to come here and m-make sh-sure you were f-f-f-f-f OK."

"Was it my uncle again?" Tin-Tin asked Sarah quietly.

Sarah nodded. "Yes, but he is gone for good now."

Dr. Brackett looked at the room's occupants, shook his head and said, "But, I thought…Never mind, I don't want to know. I should have been off duty ages ago. Liz, get some rest. Alan, Sam…try not to come back here. Our insurance underwriters can't take it." The doctor quickly left the room as they prepared to leave.

Soon, the group found themselves at a private airstrip just outside the city. Dean looked at the small, sleek jet and while he admired the workmanship, he shook his head.

"Uh, folks, while we appreciate the thought, there is no way you will be getting me in that plane."

Sarah smiled once more. "Don't worry Dean. We have arranged for some friends of ours to give you a ride."

Just then a man in a chauffer's uniform approached. "'Appy 'oliday, folks! Master Alan, m'lady and I were most distressed to 'ear of your injuries. Once we take these fine folk to their destination, let your father know we are still planning on visiting for Christmas, you hear?"

"Sure thing, Nosey," Alan responded cheerfully.

Giving a brief glower before ruffling the younger man's hair much as he had when Alan was a boy, Aloysius "Nosey" Parker, merely smiled. "Are these your bags, sirs?"

When Sam, Dean and Bobby merely stared, Sarah nodded. Parker picked up the duffle bags and hauled them away. Sarah spoke up. "The rest of your "gear" is headed for South Dakota and will be waiting in Bobby's house. Enjoy your trip." She gave Sam and Bobby quick hugs before standing in front of Dean, "I think, Scarecrow, I will miss you most of all." Hugging the man and giving a peck on the cheek, she smiled through misty eyes. "Sorry, figured you would appreciate the Kansas reference. Now," she stepped back as Tin-Tin and Fermat helped Alan onto the small jet, "I can't begin to thank you enough. Kate said she will send the paperwork regarding the house to Bobby's house via a courier after the holidays. And Dad said to tell you consider the Tracys in your debt. You have an official marker you can call in. Try to make it a good one." Smiling once more, she boarded the jet and soon it was airborne.

When the plane became a speck on the horizon, Sam looked over at Dean and Bobby. "OK, they are gone and safe, now what do we do?"

As if in answer to his question, the sound of a motor drew their attention. All three men's jaws dropped as a bright pink limo pulled up. Parker stepped out and opened the rear door. A beautiful blonde, dressed in a pink fur coat, with matching hat, leaned out. "Gentlemen, Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, at you service. The Tracys are dear friends of mine and Parker and I," she gestured to the man holding the door, "have been asked to transport you to your destination." Sam quickly got into the warm and luxurious car but Dean stared in shock.

"Lady – what did you do to this poor car? It's pink!"

Parker rolled his eyes, looked over at Bobby and the two older men nodded in understanding. Each grabbed Dean by an arm and tossed him into the back, avoiding Lady P and Sam. As Bobby climbed in, Parker muttered, "As bad as any of the lads when they saw FAB-1." Parker then reclaimed his position behind the wheel.

The car was well outside the city, driving along a stretch of highway with a stunning view of the Atlantic in December, when Sam finally spoke. "While we appreciate the ride, Lady Penelope, you aren't going to drive us all the ways to South Dakota are you?"

Lady Penelope smiled. "Why no. First, you are not going to be driven that far, our destination is not South Dakota. The Tracys felt you needed a bit of a holiday. So you will be spending Christmas at Casa de Paridiso, a lovely resort on the Mexican Riviera. The Tracys have secured a three bedroom suite, arranged for an open tab at the hotel. You can have room service or eat in one of the five restaurants at the resort. Oh, and Dean?" Ignoring the glower that was such a contrast to the grins on Bobby and Sam's faces, Lady P addressed him, "Gordon said to add that you have a large balcony, he made sure that binoculars will be available, and the resort's private beach is clothing optional. Oh, and that the Miss Mexico pageant was being held at the resort."

"And the second?" Bobby asked. "You said first, what is the second thing?"

Lady Penelope merely smiled once more. "Parker, I believe we are far enough from the city now."

"Yes, m'lady." Bobby and Sam held Dean back when he would have freaked as the pink car – offensive enough in Dean's eyes – began to fly.

Alan leaned back on his bed in the infirmary. Sarah had left with Virgil to go pick up John, Emily and baby Keith from Auckland. Even down in the sick bay, he could smell the wonderful scents of Onaha's cooking and hear the excitement of the children (he included Gordon in that) as they dashed about "helping" with the holiday preparations. Jeff smiled down at his youngest son and sat on the edge of the bed. "Just one night in here, Alan, and then you should be alright in your own room, and of course, on a couch other times."

"So, Sarah said that the Winchesters are going to spend five days at a Mexican resort for the holiday?"

Jeff nodded, pleased with what his children had come up with. "Yes. It's all been arranged. A Christmas tree, complete with presents, will be in the room. Some pretty practical, like some new jeans and shirts, plus steel toe boots and some winter gear. Some not so practical, like some music for Dean – and it wasn't easy to get a hold of cassette tapes – and books for Sam. It doesn't sound like they have had many good holidays. I think it really pleased the other kids to try and arrange all that for them."

Alan nodded, the medication making him sleepy once more. "Yeah. I just…well, I think that is great, Dad. I owe them a lot. I…I hope they like it. And…" he sighed as he drifted off, "I hope you like your gift, too." Alan fell asleep, anxious to see the look on his father's face as he saw the first edition copy of Alan's first novel."

Watching his baby boy sleep, Jeff brushed back his son's hair from his eyes. "I already have my gift, Alan. All of my children are safe and will be with me for Christmas. What more could I ask for?"

Lucy Tracy hovered near by, smiling as her spouse kept a careful watch nearby. Her future daughter-in-law, Tin-Tin, was shuttling the Hackenbackers up to Thunderbird Five while the rest of the Island residents prepared for the holiday on Earth. Unlike many confused or angry spirits, Lucy had long ago settled into a role of protector for her family. She could not interact much, but an occasional whisper or nudge had served her family well through the years. Some day she would not be needed. Some day she could accept her eternal rest. But – she smiled, watching the young man both she and Jeff still saw as their baby – that day would not come for years. Lucy wondered at times how her family could be so blessed. Perhaps, it was fate's own version of payment in kind. They had suffered in ways that many would have turned bitter. Instead, the Tracys sought to make the world a better place, through both International Rescue and as themselves. In so many ways, the Tracys were as much heroes as the Thunderbirds.

But for now, they were just a family doing what so many others did at this time of year. Thinking of the Winchesters, Lucy smiled and hoped that the brothers and their "uncle" were enjoying themselves. She knew what a struggle faced them, much as she knew all the challenges that would face her own family. Lucy prayed that they would all survive what was to come. Yet for now? Now they would gather as families, eat, drink, laugh…For now, they would know peace.

The greatest gifts for them were peace and love. The peace would be fleeting. But the love? The love would give them the strength to go on. "Thunderbirds are go."

Lucy smiled at her loves and faded once more, the scent of lavender lingering in the air for a moment before vanishing.

Alan stirred in his sleep and Jeff put out a comforting hand, smiling as his little boy once more drifted off. For now, all was right with his world. As the strain of recent days caught up with him, Jeff nodded off. His family was intact and together. The question of who would rescue the rescuers had been answered once more. And he could only hope that the unlikely heroes were enjoying themselves. But as sleep claimed him, Jeff still speculated about the grin on Gordon's face when he announced which resort he had selected. Jeff should wonder about that grin. But he had learned long ago to never question that look. It really wasn't good for his blood pressure.

And in Mexico, three weary hunters – a ragged little family – dozed on a large, plush couch as a soft breeze came in through the open patio doors. As "Scrooged" played on the big screen TV – Bill Murray sounding funnier than usual in a dubbed Spanish voice – an angel watched with a small smile. Castiel knew how much more work the Winchesters had to do. Too many seals had already been broken. But, he mused, even Lucifer should have to wait until after the celebration of the Birth…Waving his hand, he gestured towards the tree before fading from sight. Bobby stirred for a moment, opening his eyes and looking at the Christmas tree. He could have sworn there was a star at the top a moment ago. But as he drifted back off to sleep, Bobby shrugged. Nope, no one else was here, salt lines were intact and his boys were still asleep.

So that angel must have always been there.

A/N - OK, so that ends that story. The overwhelming majority seem to want a sequel, so the ideas I tossed around with Sammygirl1963 will happen (especially the follwing - a certain Tracy's injury, a Pittsburgh Steelers Jersey and a certain scene at Singer Salvage). Thanks to everyone who followed. The sequel will be started in a few weeks (I need to catch up on housework). Until then take care and GO STEELERS!!! (That was for you, Jean!!!)

Laters! - CC