"Get so much as a muddy fingertip on those controls, Alan, and you’ll be scrubbing this ‘bird from now until Christmas!"

Amused by the irritable note in his big brother’s tone, Alan ostentatiously tucked his hands under his arms and sank back in his seat. "A little mud won’t hurt," he pointed out.

Virgil snorted, rapidly scanning the console in front of him. Thunderbird Two was easy to fly as far as he was concerned, but the air currents sweeping the violent rainstorms in across the coast were tricky even for him. They were on their way back from what had turned out to be an easy rescue; a matter of airlifting some trapped scientists away from the partial collapse of a storm damaged dam due. As it turned out, Brains instructions to secure the dam had been of more use than Thunderbird 4, now securely tucked into her nest in TB-2’s pod. He wished they could report back to Tracey Island, check to see if Scott – on his way back ahead of them in TB-1 was okay – but weather conditions were making long range communications impossible. Even short distance signals were being interrupted.

"Speaking of Christmas...." Alan began.

"We weren’t...."

"Aw, come on, Virg, you can’t go off and abandon us at Christmas...."

"What’s with the abandon? A few days of skiing with Scott is all."

"But Virgil....."

"Stop whining."

A flash of annoyance crossed Alan’s features, even though he had to admit to himself that he was whining. It was a good way of getting around his brother; most of the time anyway. All the same, he stubbornly pressed on. "But it’s the only time we’re all together. John will be down from TB-5 and....."

"Sheesh, it’s only a couple of days. We’ll be back for New Year."

"New Year isn't the same and you know it."

"Hey, I’ll leave your present under the tree same as always....

"You can be such a jerk at times....." Alan snapped in frustration.

"Watch who you’re calling a jerk, brat!" Virgil snapped back.

"I am," Alan retorted to the back of his head.

"You little...."

"Ah, brotherly love," Gordon observed sardonically as he arrived on the control deck to find the two of them snarling at each other. "You want me to referee?"

"No," Virgil snarled. "Shut up and sit down...."

"Virgil’s being unreasonable," Alan complained to the aquanaut as Gordon strapped himself into his seat.

"That’s unusual...." Gordon murmured.

"That had so better not be sarcasm," Virgil growled.

"I don’t see why he has to go off skiing with Scott over Christmas...."

"Because I won the trip," Virgil pointed out.

"And it’s for Christmas because no one else with any feeling would want to go at that time anyway. It’s a way to make money. And it’s not like you can’t afford to go any time you want. Besides it’ll be empty..."

"Exactly. Nice pristine empty ski slopes. Perfect. No noisy whiney little brother to get in the way...."

"Virgil....." Gordon began as Alan bristled in insulted fury.

"Don’t you go putting in your nickel’s worth," Virgil warned.

"Actually, I was going to point out we’re picking up a distress signal...."

"Reindeer?" Virgil stared in disbelief at the diminutive parka wrapped woman. All he could see of her face was the odd stray curl of dark brown hair and huge brown eyes and she reminded him of nothing so much as a mouse peering out of its nest. "You want us to rescue a bunch of reindeer?"

"There are only three of them," Dr Stanislav said pleadingly, waving a mitten wrapped hand towards the pen. Alan and Gordon were leaning over the fence feeding the placidly nibbling reindeer handfuls of hay.

"That isn't the point," Virgil retorted, bracing himself against the blast of the cold wind. "International Rescue rescues people, not animal or property...."

"Dancer is pregnant...."

Virgil shook his head incredulously. "Look, I'm sorry. We’ll take you and your teams, but you should have gone to the evacuation point."

"And leave the herd? No!" she said flatly.

"Ma’am, either you get on board willingly or I carry you," Virgil told her.

"Ach, macho chauvinistic pig!"

Virgil gave her an incredulous look as she stomped away, calling to her three colleagues. He’d never understand scientists. Even Brains was incomprehensible at times.

"We can’t leave a pregnant reindeer behind," Alan said quietly behind him.

"Yes, we can damn well can."

"Why?" Alan asked. "They’ve got a horsebox. We can load them into that and drive it into the pod. Take longer arguing about it than to do it..."

"Think what father will say." Virgil grumbled.

Alan shrugged. "Think what father will say if we leave any of these scientists behind..."

"We’re not going to do that."

"I don’t think Dr Stanislav will agree with you," Alan said coolly.

"We’ll see about that...."

"You can’t bully her the way you do me."

"Bully?!" Virgil choked, looking at Alan in surprise. "Since when do I....?" He paused, catching the glint of humour in Alan’s huge blue eyes. "You-"

"It is Christmas....."

"All right, all right....You win! Gordon, get the pod open. Alan, get this horsebox. Dr Stanislav!" Virgil stalked towards the scientist who gave him a look of suspicion.

Alan and Gordon exchanged a look. "I think bossy is more descriptive than bully," Gordon mused.

Alan shrugged. "He’s not as bossy as Scott though," he said and staggered, grabbing at Gordon as the wind nearly blasted him off his feet. They both looked up instinctively as the trees that fringed the valley, wincing at the moaning sounds of the creaking trunks.

"Don’t stand there like a couple of penguins, you two! Move it! Wind speed is increasing and I want to get TB-2 out of here!" Virgil roared at them, then turned his most pleasant smile on the scientist. "So, Dr Stanislav, if you would be so good...."

"Poop...." Virgil muttered, scowling into the shadowy depths of the pod. The horsebox has been parked next to Thunderbird 4 and had been secured to the deck to make sure it didn’t roll. The scientists were arguing over what was the best way to secure it while Gordon and Virgil finished tying it down.

"What?" Gordon, looking windswept and frazzled, peered at him in bewilderment.

"The whole pod’s gonna smell of reindeer poop...." Virgil muttered sourly.

"Gee, glad to see you’re filled with Christmas cheer."

"Give me a brandy and I will be," Virgil retorted. "Where’s Alan?"

"One of the scientists left his lap top....."

"Left- give me strength...." Vigil turned to jog down the ramp and bellow into the shrieking wind for his brother. "Get your butt back here!" he screamed as he spotted Alan emerging from the scientist’s prefabricated laboratory with a laptop tucked under his arm.

Alan lifted one hand to wave, staggering as a blast of wind sucked at him. Then came the tormented scream of torn twisting wood as one of the huge pine trees that loomed over the clearing was ripped from its roots, tossed like a straw in the wind to plummet earthwards....

"Alan!" Virgil screamed in horror as his little brother disappeared from view beneath a twisting splinted mass of wood and leaves. For a moment he couldn’t move, could hear despite the noise of the torrential rain that came beating down Gordon’s moan of horror, then the aquanaut started past him....

The thought of Gordon going out there too shattered Virgil’s shell of shock and got him moving.

Virgil grabbed his arm. "Get back inside," he ordered grimly. "Close up the pod and start pre-flight...."

"Virgil, no...we can’t...." Gordon protested in torment.

"I’ll get him. I won't risk you too...." Virgil snapped, roughly pushing him back.

"We should go," one of the scientists squeaked. "You are pilot, no? We go...."

"I am not leaving my little brother behind!" Virgil yelled at him and ran down the ramp, staggering as he emerged from TB-2’s shelter into the full force of the wind. Gritting his teeth and ducked his head, knowing it wasn't only the wind wringing tears from his eyes, Virgil put his shoulder into the wind and forged his way forward. Thick mud sucked at his feet, sending him slipping and sliding until he thought he would never reach the fallen tree and his brother’s shattered body....

As he reached the tree, started to claw his way through the branches he glimpsed a flash of familiar blue, saw movement....

"Alan!" Grabbing a branch, Virgil heaved it aside with sheer brute strength and thrust his way into the tangled web of trees to reach his brother.

Alan peered up at him groggily, his face bruised and his left arm hugged to his chest. "Virg...." he croaked. "It fell on me...."

"Are you hurt?"

"I think I broke the laptop."

Virgil said a rude word about laptops. "Are you hurt?"

"Oh.....I think I busted my arm..." Alan responded groggily. "Rest of me’s okay."

Virgil heaved a sigh of relief and wriggled in beside him, shoving the braches aside until he could get an arm around the younger man to help him haul himself out of the wreckage. Staggering out into the full force of the rainstorm, Alan gasped for breath and clung to Virgil’s bigger frame until he could right himself.

"M’okay..."

"Yeah, right," Virgil snorted, peering at his brother’s pale face. "Hang on to me."

Half carrying Alan, Virgil headed grimly back towards Thunderbird 2, glad to see that the pod was settled back into place as the huge ship settled like a hen on her nest. Running a mental countdown, he estimated they had barely enough time to get TB-2 back into the air and away from the storm. Staying on the ground was impossible, the valley was already funnelling the winds down on them and TB-2 was at her most vulnerable on the ground. Add to that the strong possibility that the dam could still burst and flood them out....

Alan stumbled, catching himself with a gasp of pain. "Not much further, kid," Virgil warned, wiping rain from his face with his free hand. "Gordon’s sent the cradle down for us...." He could see the lift cradle waiting for them as they staggered around the side of the TB-2 into the sanctuary of her wind sheltering bulk. In the relative quiet of her leeside, Virgil realised how hard it had been to breath in the crushing winds. "Come on, Alan, not much further."

Gordon was hovering in the cockpit, waiting to pounce as his brothers staggered inside. He caught Alan, steering him hastily to a seat. "You two are filthy...." he said weakly as he peered into Alan’s eyes worriedly. Alan managed a weak smile for him, letting Gordon snug his safety belt across him.

Virgil flopped into the pilot’s seat, resting his head in his hands for a moment as he caught his breath and struggled to calm his nerves. "Everyone secure?" he asked huskily.

"All strapped in. Pod locked down. Pre-flight’s complete. Ready when you are, Virg," Gordon reported efficiently. "But with these wind speeds....They’ve above TB-2’s specifications."

"I know her specs and I know what she’s capable of."

"Brains says...."

"You want to stay here and be a new ark when that dam goes? We can make it. Brains always designs our ships to exceed specs anyway. Now sit down and belt up."

"I trust you mean a safety belt," Gordon retorted as he sat down and fastened his safety belt.

"Yeah, whatever. Alan, you strapped in? This is gonna be a rough ride, kid."

"I’ll be okay...." Alan answered grimly.

Virgil nodded once and reached for the controls, sliding his feet into place. A skilled glance across the instruments told him TB-2 was all ready to go and purring in anticipation. Mentally crossing his fingers, Virgil eased back on the controls and felt the Thunderbird lift, felt the faint shudder as she felt the winds strengthening against her hull and sweeping beneath her, felt her start to lurch towards a roll..... "Come on, baby, for me," he whispered under his breath, concentrating on the feel of the controls, sinking into the one way rapport with his ship, making those tiny infinitesimal corrections that would ensure their survival on this teeth rattling ride....

As always TB-2 responded to his touch, as controllable as a bee in flight, she lifted out of the valley, riding the tormenting winds that sought to blast her out of the air and into the chaos of the valley below...

For one terrifying moment she lurched sideways, threatening to slam into the towering walls of the valley sides, then as Virgil’s expert hands guided her she turned nose on into the wind and lifted, soaring majestically over the cliffs and away from the dangerous air currents. Still Virgil held on, deep in concentration as the massive machine raced away from the valley, seeking the safety of altitude and calmer air....

"Woo hoo!" Gordon was the first to break the silence as TB-2 steadied into normal flight. "Quite a sleigh ride, Virg."

"Ha ha," Virgil snorted. "You two okay?"

"I'm fine. Alan’s looking a bit green and it’s not his colour...."

"Ack no! No throwing up! No throwing up in my cockpit! I forbid it!" Virgil yelped.

"It’d add a touch of colour to contrast with the mud...." Alan said weakly.

Virgil shot a quick look over his shoulder at him, wondering if he looked as filthy as Alan did with his coating of mud and leaves and bits of bark. Gordon had slid out of his safety harness to get the medical kit. "You hang in there," he said gently. "We’ll land to let out our passengers and find you some medical help." He allowed himself a half laugh. "Then I’ll call father and break it to him from a safe distance. Maybe he’ll have calmed down by the time we get home, but he’s going to chew my butt off for this...."

"You could have got yourselves killed!" Jeff Tracey bellowed at his second son as he paced the room. "And for what? A bunch of deer?"

"Reindeer," Alan corrected with a woozy smile. Virgil had landed at the local hospital where his arm had been set and he had been given a painkiller that left him asleep for the entire flight home. Virgil had had to wake him up to get him off the ship. The kids at the hospital had been thrilled to meet the real live reindeer that the scientists had insisted on unloading once the drove the horsebox out of the pod. The reindeer seemed to have survived better than anyone, although Dancer had decided to have her calf in mid flight. Virgil had been glad he hadn’t known about that. And oddly proud that Dr Stanislav had told him they would call the calf Thunderbird.

Jeff shot him an exasperated look. "You should have left them. People are our priority, Virgil. People!"

"They wouldn't have come without the reindeer," Gordon pointed out.

"That isn’t the point! International Rescue is about....."

"Doing the right thing," Virgil put in, startling Jeff into stilling his pacing to look at his son. Lazing on the sofa, Scott gave his brother the thumbs up signal and Virgil pressed on. "With all due respect, father, you weren’t the man on the spot. I was. Communications were down due to the weather conditions. We received a distress signal that we were bound to answer. When we landed we found out about the reindeer. As my conscience reminded me-" Virgil shot a look at Alan. "-we couldn't leave them. After all, it is Christmas."

Jeff stared at him, taking in the mixed emotions on Virgil’s face; the mingled anguish that Alan had been hurt and the stern belief that he was right. Jeff laughed. "All right, Virgil, you’ve made your point. You were in command and you made the decision you felt was right. Second guessing after the event never helps. Go get cleaned up for dinner. And take a Scotch with you, boys...."

"Can I have one?" Alan asked hopefully.

"No, Virgil said you’re on painkillers," Scott interrupted, rising lithely to his feet and intercepting Alan’s move to follow Gordon and Virgil to the drinks cabinet. "Come on, kid, you need to lie down...."

"He needs a bath first. We all do!" Virgil snorted.

"Well, I know he’d prefer Tin Tin to scrub his back for him, but he’ll have to make do with me while she’s with Lady Penelope...."

"At least she’ll be back for Christmas," Alan said plaintively as Scott herded him from the room.

Gazing after them with a faint frown, Virgil absently accepted the drink Jeff handed him, wondering why the comment suddenly hurt...

"Going somewhere?" Scott asked, leaning over the balcony to peer down at his brother.

Virgil hesitated, caught sneaking down to the aeroplane bay. "Believe it or not, Christmas shopping?"

"Mr Grumpy himself going Christmas shopping? Pull the other one!" Scott snorted.

Virgil grimaced. "Watch it, Mr Grouchy. I thought...." he gestured helplessly. "Shoot, Alan’s right. The only time we are all together is at Christmas...."

"Ski-ing’s off then?" Scott asked mildly.

"Oh, uh, about that...." Virgil mumbled.

"Stop fretting. I’d glad we’re not going."

"Glad?"

"I’d rather be home with the family for the Christmas holiday," Scott said cheerfully.

"But you said...."

"I know you, Virg. Full of plans until you actually get there. Then you’d be miserable....Someone had to babysit."

"Yeah, well, I didn’t babysit too well this time, did I?" Virgil muttered sourly.

"That wasn't your fault and you know it," Scott scolded as he came down the steps to join him. "It could have happened any time."

"Even so...."

"That what changed your mind about staying home for Christmas?"

Virgil shrugged awkwardly as he gazed at Scott. "It’s....We’re not only a team, we’re family. When that tree came down.....I thought...." he blurted.

"We can be together this Christmas and maybe.....?" Scott said softly, meeting his eyes steadily.

"You know...."

"Uh huh. Rather not think about it though. We’re in a dangerous trade."

Virgil nodded. "You know, I yelled at him. I called Alan a brat....."

"He can be. But he’s growing out of it," Scott said dryly.

"He could have been killed....

"Virg, don’t be an idiot," Scott said in exasperation. "You always yell at him. You think than makes him think you don’t love him as much as you do the rest of us? Sheesh, you dope, why do you think Alan’s so gung ho about getting us all together?"

"Okay, okay, so we stay. I admit I’d have missed the turkey...."

"Attaboy...." Looping his arm about Virgil’s shoulders, Scott steered him back to the stairs. "Leave the shopping for now. You need some sleep. I’ll go with you....we can keep it a secret...."

"Uh...."

"Or not...."

Virgil smiled sheepishly. "I want to tell Alan we’ll be home for Christmas. He did get mashed. He deserves an early Christmas present...."

Scott chuckled and let him go, watching his brother bound away up the stairs. He was glad they would be all together at Christmas. He knew John would be glad, knew Alan as the youngest was still heavily into the spirit of the season and as for Scott himself. He couldn't think of anything better as a present than to have his family all together and safe to fill Tracey Island with family love.