Three weeks had passed since the situation on Thunderbird Five. Temporarily relegated to Honolulu during most of that time, Gordon had chafed at his required sessions with Dr. Perry. He found them easier than he'd expected, though, thanks in part to Kyrano. The soi-disant gardener had also summarily relocated to the hotel, ostensibly to return the brothers to Tracy Island once John was released from the hospital. But he had also been a touchstone for Gordon while the young man worked through his self-recrimination, providing unobtrusive reflection and counsel.

Initially, approaching John had been difficult. The extremely vocal meeting had earned the brothers admonishments from the hospital staff, temporary ejection from the hospital for Gordon, and left each of them vexed with the other for a couple of days. Neither Dr. Perry nor Kyrano seemed overly concerned, though, and Gordon wondered if they'd set it upas things had eventually settled into some semblance of normalcy. And as to whether John had been required to undergo similar sessions with Dr. Perry, Gordon never learned, for no one would admit to anything.

Once they'd returned home, the two grounded brothers had also put up with the inevitable teasing–mostly in reference to broad sides of farm buildings, slackers, and remedial training. The majority was provided courtesy of Scott and Virgil, although John contributed his share of teasing Gordon. And Alan was in his glory, gloating about having been pressed into service while John and Gordon recovered.

Between the teasing and Alan's crowing, Gordon's prankish nature was resurfacing with vengeance. And so–two days after his return to the island–he stood outside his brother's half-open door, pleading.

"C'mon, Virg. Just one brush and a tube of paint," Gordon begged, "Just for a couple of minutes." He bounced impatiently, afraid that his chance would pass before Virgil consented. "I'll bring 'em right back." He spread both hands in front of him, and displayed his uncrossed fingers. Looking as angelic as possible, he added, "I promise."

"What for?" Virgil asked. Unconvinced by Gordon's act, he was not about to be drawn into whatever his younger brother was planning. "You can't draw a straight line, let alone paint one."

"Aw, come on, Virgil." Gordon considered whining, but for some odd reason that always worked better with Scott. Considering his options, he settled for innocence personified, his face assuming the expression John used so well. "Please?" Come on, Virg, he groused silently, sometime before Christmas.

Several minutes passed before Virgil grudgingly gave in. "Okay," he said, still eyeing his brother suspiciously, "But if it's Scott you're after, you're on your own." He walked to the door, handed Gordon a brush and a tube of yellow paint, and looked at him significantly, "And I don't see you here, right?"

"Okay, okay," Gordon agreed, relieved to have won his case. He headed away from the room, then–noticing the color of the tube of paint–stopped and scowled at it. That won't show up. He turned back and looked pleadingly at Virgil. "Got any pink?"

"Pink?" Virgil echoed, incredulously. He gestured at the box of oil paints. "Do you see any pink?" Exasperated, he pointed at the items in Gordon's hands, enumerating them, "One tube, one brush. You wanted them, you got them."

Taking the gesture as an invitation, Gordon entered Virgil's room, and headed toward the box. He rooted in the box, ransacking its contents for several minutes. "Green, then. No, no, purple. Oops." Several items clattered to the floor, evoking a pained expression from Virgil. He finally pulled out a tube of blue paint. "Okay, blue. That'll work." Leaving the box in disarray and his brother thoroughly annoyed, he headed out, calling, "Thanks, Virg. I owe you."

Gordon hurried back toward the lanai, hoping that his victim was both still there, and still asleep. He detoured through the kitchen–momentarily distracted–and circled behind Onaha, giving her a quick kiss as he snitched some pieces of fruit from the salad she was making. She swatted at him, scolding, but he was already out of reach.

He skirted the hot tub, and paused at the far edge of the first pool, shading his eyes against the sun. Yup, he was still there, stretched out on the lounge chair. Gordon quickly headed down the steps, and past the diving pool, moving in such a way as to keep his shadow away from his victim.

Pausing a few feet from his target, he listened, but heard no active sounds. He stole around the occupied chair, and waited again. Assured that his brother still slept, Gordon squatted alongside him, and removed the cap from the paint tube. He daubed the brush at the paint, and lightly stroked it along his chosen area, occasionally checking to ensure that his victim hadn't awoke.

When he had finished, he recapped the tube. Absently flicking the brush in his hand–and leaving tiny blue specks on the deck as he did so–Gordon stepped back, admiring his handiwork. The entire exposed side of the white sling was covered in irregular blue letters, spelling out the name "JOHN."

Gordon nodded in satisfaction, and headed back into the house. First stop was to return Virgil's brush and paint. And the second involved self-preservation, for he had no doubts about John's reaction.

None whatsoever.

Fini

Author's note:

Inexpressible and incalculable thanks to Drew (my DHD), not-so-wee-Hamish, Avatar1, Brendan (RIP), Sassy-cat, and Squirticus Maximus Maybourne Alan for their help and patience during the creation of this story. Words cannot adequately express my appreciation for your support.

Thanks also to those who read and commented on this story all along: Iniysa, Spense, numbah 14/storm05, annie, Rathead, Tikatu, rozzy07, Rachie loves Donald Duck, Agent Five, SaucerEyes, music nimf, Neenie, Emerald Queen, Opal Girl, Lillihafrue, Varda's Servant, Claudette, and Sam1. You guys challenged me to stay one step ahead of you, to do one more polish, one last spell-check, one more read-through before posting. (And STILL some errors snuck through!)

And also to Neenie and Lillihafrue for their comments to "Behind the Scenes." (BTW, Lille, you guessed right on the coin toss)

And most belatedly, to Elnoo and Oden, for allowing me to borrow their on-line names as character names. May your shared birthdate be joyous, guys!