On a rare occasion, there is a lull on Tracy Island. For a few days, the services of the brothers will not be required.

During the first few hours, they are poised, all waiting to strike out at the first sign of trouble. But then the hours pass the 24 mark and there is a collective exhalation. It seems, at that point, that the world had taken a break from constant peril. Thus, the boys relax.

The best of times are when John comes home. Alan bounces on the balls of his feet and Gordon has an extra-bright glint in his eye because the Space Case is on the way. John can be a bit standoffish, a bit...distant. But that doesn't mean they don't want to have him around. They are, and always have been, a five-some, making the Tracy pentagon: no brother better than the other and all equally needed to make the family whole.

On one particular occasion, the brothers found themselves sitting by the pool - or taking a dip in it, cooling off in the oppressive afternoon.

"Hey, John," Gordon called. No response. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted. "Earth to Johnny. Hello?"

Jolting awake, sending a plastic cup flying, John gripped the sides of the lounger as it rocked. He looked around, eyes wide.

"What, what?"

Scott shook his head, giving his trademark eye squint.

"I was going to ask," Gordon continued, "if you were burned to a crisp yet."

John glanced at his arms, twisting them to inspect the damage.

"I don't think so," he concluded.

"You should be careful of too much sun exposure," Scott said. "You're not used to it anymore."

Alan swam up to the edge of the pool and slapped his arms on the wet concrete.

"Come on in," he said, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Gordon and Virgil. "Let's go two-on-two for some pool-volleyball." He looked at Scott. "You can referee."

"Uh huh."

From his vantage point on a deck chair, it was clear that Scott had no intentions of doing any such a thing and was content to stay lost in his novel.

John set aside his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes.

"Alan, we always lose at poolball."

Alan made a fist and brought it down hard, not so much as wincing at the impact.

"But this time, John. This time might be our time."

John couldn't stop himself from chuckling at the misguided earnestness on his brother's face. In truth, he had been planning to escape back to Five within the hour. But one game couldn't hurt.

Could it?

So he stood up and stretched his tired back muscles, rolling his shoulders as Alan's face lit up in delight.

"Alright!" the youngest Tracy squeaked. He turned to the others and jabbed a finger at them. "Get ready for a pounding!"

Virgil and Gordon shared a look. That look. The one the signalled that both Alan and John were going down.

Little did they know, they were quite right about that – literally, in John's case. For, within three paces of his walk to the pool, he slipped.

Time went in slow motion as his red head hurtled towards the concrete ground. A thousand scenarios ran through his head. Depending on the area of his skull that took the brunt of the impact, any manner of damage could be done. As he inched closer, time slowing to an antique VCR crawl, he recounted the possibilities. Brain injury. Cracked skull. Broken eye socket. And if he hit the ground just right, damage to the occipital lobe which could even spell blindness.

Then it happened. Something amazing. His hands reached out to stop his fall. He tumbled across the hard ground, all grazed palms and knees and was that a broken nail?

Scott leapt to his side as the other three brothers exploded out of the pool.

"Johnny!"

John twisted to sit on his butt as four sets of hands pawed all over him.

"Guys."

"Is he okay?"

"Guys!"

"Did he hit his head? John, can you hear me?"

"GUYS!"

The others stopped and blinked at him. John rolled his eyes.

"For crying out loud!" he groused, getting to his feet. "I'm fine. Geez."

Scott exhaled with relief and Gordon pretended to wipe sweat from his brow.

"Whew!" he said. "I thought you were a goner there, John."

The red head was not amused. He gave Gordon a thin-lipped stare.

"I swear to God," he said, planting his hands in his hips. "You'd think I was some kind of clumsy, cringing idiot. I'm fine!"

Closing his eyes he turned to walk away.

"John, look out!"

"Oh my God, leave me - gah!"

As he plunged into the pool, having totally misjudged his proximity to its watery depths, John was glad that the water dulled the sound of us brothers' guffaws.

I wonder if I can stay down here forever? he thought as he lingered under the surface. Then he thought better of it. They'll only think I've drowned and send Gordon and Thunderbird Four in after me.

When he surfaced, Virgil was doubled over, face red from laughing. Gordon was much the same. Scott had his head in his hands and Alan, the sweetheart, was trying his best not to giggle.

"Alright, alright," John said, scraping his soaked hair back from his face. "Get your butts in this pool. I am ready to hand out some serious punishment!"

Within point five of a second, he had been half-drowned by the tsunami caused by his brothers' entrance into the water.

As it turned out, John and Alan lost seventeen to nothing.

But still. At least everything was alright in the end.