After watching this week's TAG, (SOS Part 1) Louise Hargadon and I screamed so loudly that Lee Taylor probably heard us on the moon. So happy to have this show back on our screens!

Thunderbird 1 eased gently onto her launch pad, engines sighing. Gordon sat in the pilot's seat for a few moments in silence, waiting for his heart to stop hammering in his chest. John's holo drifted in front of him, his older brother wearing one of his trademark half smiles.

"Promise not to tell," said Gordon, mentally cursing the smidgen of panic in his voice.

John's expression barely changed. "I don't think I'll need to."

Wondering what John meant, Gordon heaved his suddenly heavy body weight out of the seat and clambered onto the waiting gantry. John wouldn't tell. He was safe.

Two hours went by. Gordon ate sandwiches and daydreamed of Penelope. How beautiful she looked while scolding him for taking Thunderbird One on what basically amounted to a joyride, Sherbet being safe all along. How the sun shone on the golden waves over her slender shoulders. Maybe a little too slender- she could probably do with one of his mega, ultra, skyscraper, fifteen layer sandwiches, and he resolved to make her one the next time they met.

Deciding to do a little maintenance to keep himself busy, Scott entered the cockpit of TB1 and instantly recoiled. He breached the gap between the rocket plane and the retreating gantry with one mighty leap, staring back at his 'Bird in disbelief. He punched his wrist comm and summoned John.

"Why does Thunderbird One smell so bad?" he demanded.

"Why am I always the Go To Guy?"

"Because you know everything. C'mon, stop playing games. It stinks in there!"

"Well," said John. "I said I wouldn't tell, but I can promise you it was for a good cause."

TBTB

Gordon pressed himself against the wall, cringing under the wrath of Scott.

"*It was for a good cause*!"

Scott edged closer, his face thunderous.

"John said he wouldn't tell," Gordon bleated.

"He didn't have to. I followed the smell."

"But... But I showered!"

"Yeah, I can smell soap on top of... Whatever *that* is."

Gordon closed his eyes. His brother's face was a little too close for his liking.

"Gordon. What the hell were you doing while we were out saving the planet?"

Gordon smiled sickly. "Saving Sherbet."

Scott blinked. "Lady Penelope's dog? *That* Sherbet?"

"You know any others?"

Scott shook his head. He pulled Gordon away from the wall and guided him to a more comfortable place, sitting the younger man down on a sofa and parking himself on the edge of a coffee table. "Okay, little brother," he said ominously, "you'd better start spilling the beans before I place a call to London, England."

Defeated, Gordon slumped over and put his head in his hands.

"Where do you want me to start?" he sighed.

"At the very beginning," said Scott.

"Well, first there was nothing. Then one day a tiny atom went 'BOOM' and created the Big Bang. Then-"

"Not that far back," Scott interrupted. "Just from whenever you got whatever call it was that made you take my Bird and stink it up like a sewer pipe."

Gordon lifted his head and looked at Scott through sun bleached eyelashes. "Funny you should mention sewer pipes."

"Just tell me what happened," said Scott, rolling his eyes.

Gordon launched into his tale of adventure. Soon Scott was sitting straight up with his mouth open.

"And I pushed the throttle and like... *Whooooom*, she soared into the air like an eagle. I clutched the controls, full of grim determination..."

A loud coughing sound came from somewhere behind them. John's holo was floating in the centre of the room.

"Oh crap," Gordon muttered.

"Who is this brave, fearless pilot you describe?" the smiling holo asked. "Could it be the guy who nearly peed in his wetsuit when he pushed Down instead of Up?"

Gordon glared at John. "You traitor!"

John grinned. "All I said was follow your nose." He tapped the side of his olfactory organ like a gangster.

"And I did," said Scott. "All roads lead to Rome, and all smells lead to Gordon. So tell me how you nearly crashed my Bird."

"Okay, but then the heroics. Right?"

Scott nodded, a smirk toying with his lips.

Gordon continued. He made sure to lay the blame solely at the feet of Aloysius 'Nosy' Parker, that grey haired Machiavelli. John and Scott exchanged amused glances. The sandy haired aquanaut described crawling down the manhole and into the drains just because he thought he saw a glimpse of fur down in the depths.

"I did it all for Lady Penelope. She would have been in pieces if anything happened to her dog."

"Can't argue with that," muttered Scott.

"How was I to know it wasn't Sherbet? It was a dirty, stinking polecat!"

"But enough of Parker," quipped John, laughing at his own joke.

"So basically a British skunk," said Scott. "That explains everything. Why you couldn't get rid of it even after a shower."

Gordon's face crumpled. "And Penny got the full, undiluted hit."

Scott folded his arms, gazing at his younger brother with barely contained humour. "Look at it this way. If you're going to impress a girl then Thunderbird One is the way to do it."

"Oh really."

"Sure. There's no more impressive sight than Thunderbird One sitting outside the Creighton-Ward mansion."

Gordon looked at his brother sharply. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying it like it is. She's sleek, smart, intuitive, beautiful to look at- and so is Lady Penelope!"

John laughed. Gordon did not.

"Relax, Squid. I'm pulling your leg."

"It doesn't need pulling."

"You're gonna pay for the damaged drone though. Right? No more celery crunch bars for a year."

Gordon shrugged. "I've gone off them anyway. I like jellybean chocolate now."

Scott stood up and rubbed his back. "I guess I'll have to forgive you. Any one of us would have done the same thing. Maybe not quite as dramatically, but a situation is a situation." He turned to John. "Amirite?"

John winced. "That's so cringe. But yes, you're right. A situation is a situation."

Scott looked down at Gordon, still slumped on the couch. "Because it's you," he said mysteriously. "Because you lurch from one crush to another and wear your heart on your sleeve. I'll show you how to handle her right."

Gordon checked his brother's face and smiled. "Lady Penelope?"

Scott laughed. "Thunderbird One."

Gordon spoke with forced gratitude. "Oh boy. I get to go up in that thing *again*."

Hovering in the background, John talked quietly into his wrist comm. A few moments later a new arrival entered the lounge. Gordon turned to see MAX trundling across the polished wood floor carrying a mop and bucket and several bottles of industrial strength cleaner. Scott nodded at the little robot who placed the items at Gordon's feet.

"First you get to clean it," he said. "And I mean clean it. Every stinking inch."

Gordon picked up a bottle of bleach and sighed under the weight of his woes.

"Here I go again!"