Disclaimer: The Thunderbirds do not belong to me. They are the property of Gerry Anderson and his affiliates. Neither does "The Guy Next Door"-Meg Cabot. No money is made from this story. Any unrecognized characters belong to my imagination, which hopefully belongs to me.
AN: So, John's turn already. Should probably warn you that I'm experimenting with writing styles, and that this is written in e-mail format. Also, FF. net doesn't support the e-mail "at" symbol, so I've had to replace the "at" with an underscore.
Many thanks to Little Miss Bump for beta reading this.
Chapter One
To: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
From: Human Resources (humanrescourcesbot_nyeditor. com)
Subject: Late Notice
--
Dear Ms. Mackenzie
This is to inform you of your 39th late note this year. You were 156 minutes late today. Please note that working hours at New York Editor Enterprise begin at 9 AM, and that every employee is expected to 'swipe in' promptly.
Consistent lateness could also be interpreted as a symptom of:
- Sleep deprivation
- Depression
- Alcohol dependency
- Unstable mental disposition
- Lack of organisational skills.
A copy of this e-mail has been sent automatically to your boss, G. Sanchez, and will be placed in your personal profile, which will be reviewed at your next employee evaluation assessment. Subsequent late notices can result in suspension or dismissal from New York Editor Enterprise.
Sincerely,
Human Resources
New York Editor Enterprise- New York's Number One Journalistic and Publishing Enterprise.
This is an automated e-mail. Please do not reply to this e-mail. If you wish to reply, please do so through the appropriate channels via your Human Resources representative.
To: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
From: Lara Sadlinsokov (lsadlinsokov_nyeditor. com)
Subject: Where are you?
--
Jade? Where are you? I know you come into work late, but never this late. Boss is getting antsy. The vending machine is broken and Greg hasn't had his Ginger Beer yet.
Well, if you're not coming in, can you at least give me a call and let me know you're OK? I'm worried about you.
Lara oxo
To: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
From: Greg Sanchez (gsanchez_nyeditor. com)
Subject: Mackenzie!
--
Mackenzie! Where the hell are you?! How hard can it be to come into work ON TIME?! What do you do every morning that could possibly make you late by over two hours?!
I'm still waiting on the final edit on the column for 'Quasars of the Century'. It was meant to be on my desk YESTERDAY!
You'd better walk through those doors in the next five minutes if you want to be assured of your job security! I'm losing my patience!
To: Lara Sadlinsokov (lsadlinsokov_nyeditor. com)
From: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
Subject: Where are you?
--
Lara. Relax. I'm here. And I'm OK. Well, as OK as I can be after this morning.
I'll fill you in later, OK? Now I have to write to Greg and explain the story behind the tardy.
TTYL
Jade ;-)
To: Greg Sanchez (gsanchez_nyeditor. com)
From: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
Subject: Where the hell was I?
--
Since it is so vitally important that you know every detail of my day, I've included a condensed diary in this e-mail. Sitting down, Greg? Have you got a Ginger Beer? Because this might shock you.
7:00- Alarm rings. Hit snooze button.
7:10- Alarm rings. Hit snooze button.
7:20- Alarm rings. Hit snooze button. Drag weary body out of bed and enter bathroom for morning ablutions.
8:00- Leave bathroom. Turn on TV and check weather. Grumble as it is supposed to rain.
8:04- Pour milk into cereal bowl and slurp some coffee.
8:19- Rinse bowl and mug and place it in dishwasher.
8:21- Rummage around looking for misplaced keys.
8:26- Find keys under sofa.
8:30- Leave apartment and lock door behind me. I am surprised to see Mrs. Freelancer's (my neighbour's) paper still on her doorstep. Am even more surprised to hear her dog barking desperately.
8:31- Knock on neighbour's door. No response.
8:32- Knock louder. Twist doorknob. Am very surprised to find it unlocked.
8:33- Push door open. Find neighbour lying on carpet, face down, not breathing.
What was I supposed to do, Greg? Leave her on the carpet and go to work?
I called the cops and an ambulance and waited until they came, and then accompanied her to the hospital.
Guess what she's in, Greg.
Go on. Guess.
A medically induced coma. You read that right. A medically induced coma.
So I'm sorry, but work wasn't the first thing that crossed my mind. But, I'm telling you; there could be a story here, and I think I should be the one to write it. I am a journalist, and you know you can't keep me on Page 12 column forever.
Jade
To: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
From: Greg Sanchez (gsanchez_nyeditor. com)
Subject: You can't keep me on p.12 forever…
--
Yes, Mackenzie, I can keep you on p.12 forever because I am your boss. And as long as I am your boss, you will remain on p.12 until I say so.
And there is one story I haven't heard; why you didn't notify anyone you were going to be late. It's called a phone. Heard of it? I thought you might have.
Next time, call. Got it?
To: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
From: Lara Sadlinsokov (lsadlinsokov_nyeditor. com)
Subject: Lunchtime?
--
Hey Jade,
Where d'you want to go for lunch? And then you can tell me all about your morning.
Lara.
To: Lara Sadlinsokov (lsadlinsokov_nyeditor. com)
From: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
Subject: Lunch
--
I can't. I have to go home and walk Taco.
To: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
From: Lara Sadlinsokov (lsadlinsokov_nyeditor. com)
Subject: Taco?
--
Who, or what, is Taco?
To: Lara Sadlinsokov (lsadlinsokov_nyeditor. com)
From: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
Subject: Taco.
--
Taco is my neighbour's Great Dane. You know Mrs. Freelancer? I found her unconscious this morning. Anyway, long and the short of it is that she's in a coma and I have to walk her dog and look after her cats.
And don't tell me to contact her relatives. From what she's told me, she has no-one left in this world. Except for her nephew.
But I can't find much information on him.
So, no, I can't contact him because I know nothing about him.
Now, I have to go home and walk the dog.
I'll e-mail you when I come back.
Jade.
To: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
From: Lara Sadlinsokov (lsadlinsokov_nyeditor. com)
Subject: You owe me
--
While you were walking Taco, I did some digging around. Look what I found. It's Seb Freelancer (Mrs. Freelancer's nephew) e-mail address.
It's cameraman_hotshotphotos. com
Turns out he's a new and upcoming still camera shooter. Apparently, some of his shots are in the art gallery.
Drop him a line. He needs to know his aunt is in hospital. And maybe he'll look after the dog and you can have lunch with me.
Lara :P
To: Seb Freelancer (cameraman_hotshotphotos. com)
From: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
Subject: Mrs. Freelancer
--
Dear Mr. Freelancer,
My name is Jade Mackenzie, and I am a neighbour to your aunt.
This morning, your aunt was taken to hospital and was placed in a medically induced coma, after being brutally attacked with a lamp and sustaining major trauma to her head.
Police think this was a botched up 'break and enter', and are currently pursing all avenues worth investigation.
It may help Mrs. Freelancer if you could visit her in the ICU ward of New York City Hospital, between the hours of 9AM and 11AM and 4PM to 7PM.
Also, while you are here, would you mind making arrangements for her pets? They need someone to look after them.
If you have any more questions, please don't hesitate to contact me at jmackenzie_nyeditor. com.
Yours sincerely
J. Mackenzie.
To: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)
From: Seb Freelancer (cameraman_hotshotphotos. com)
Subject: My Aunt, Mrs. Freelancer.
--
Dear Ms. Mackenzie,
I am shocked. Deeply shocked that someone could stoop so low and attack a dear old soul like my aunt.
Currently, I am on an assignment at an African orphanage to try and boost the amount of funding the orphanage receives in donations. However, as this is my dear aunt, I am making arrangements to leave Africa as soon as possible. I am hoping to be back in the States in three days, though.
Thank you for informing me about my aunt's condition and looking after the pets.
Yours sincerely,
Seb Freelancer.
To: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)
From: Seb Freelancer (cameraman_hotshotphotos. com)
Subject: Dude! S.O.S
--
John! Remember me? It's Seb, your Harvard roommate.
You know that trip to Vegas we went on? And how I saved you from making the biggest mistake of your life? And the next day by the pool you said that you owed me a massive favour?
Well, this is it. I'm calling in that favour.
And if you don't want to do it, I have one word for you.
Alimony.
I saved you from years and years of it, so don't you forget it.
To: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)
From: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)
Subject: Oh… My… God…
--
Guess who just e-mailed me, Scott.
Seb Freelancer.
Yep. Seb from Harvard. That Seb.
This is not fair. How can the guy who can't recall his social security card number remember something I said when I was heavily intoxicated just over a decade ago?
I knew that would come back and bite me on the butt.
John.
To: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)
From: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)
Subject: Do I want to know?
--
I'm worried about the answer, but as your only big brother, I feel entitled to ask this. What exactly did you do while you were drunk, John?
Scott
To: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)
From: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)
Subject: What did I do while I was drunk?
--
Good question, Scott. The thing with being drunk is… more often than not, you don't remember what you've done. Apparently, this is how the night went...
Her name was Heidi. She was twenty-two, a showgirl and had the most gorgeous eyes and shimmery brown hair I'd ever seen.
OK, I lied. Her eyes weren't so brilliant once the colour changing contacts she was wearing fell out.
And I was going to make her the first Mrs. John Tracy. This part is sadly true. I definitely know I escorted her to the twenty-four hour chapel.
Then, before she could say 'I do', Seb grabbed my drunk self and hauled me back to the hotel and let me 'sleep it off.'
The next day, by the poolside, I supposedly said that I owed him a massive favour, and that he could call it in at any time.
Knowing him, this 'favour' is going to be horrible.
John.
To: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)
From: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)
Subject: Oh, what a tale…
--
Imagine what Dad would say if he found out about that. I'm storing that away as ammunition against you. XD
You know, Seb probably screwed up your one chance at true happiness. Think about it. With our job, we can't exactly go out on regular dates. So, if you had married Heidi the showgirl, she would have been happy, you would have been happy and everyone would have had a happy ending. Seriously, John, you should have just stuck with the showgirl. Then you wouldn't be in this mess.
So, you gonna repay the favour? If you are, make sure it's legit.
From your one and only big brother, who will, as usual, bail you out, if this stuffs up.
To: Seb Freelancer (cameraman_hotshotphotos. com)
From: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)
Subject: S.O.S
--
I'll do it. Even though this is against my better judgement, I'll do it if it gets you off my back and out of my life. Just tell me it's legit. Nothing illegal.
And I'll only do it if you give me your word that this is the last time I'll hear from you. My life is complicated enough right now, and I don't need you adding to it.
John.
PS. Why can't you do whatever it is you want me to do?
AN: Please review and give me feedback on whether the layout and writing style works for you.