I'm half way on my commute to Paris for a thing at UNESCO. So I have a lot of time to think. The great story bit by @idontknowreallywhy the other day got me thinking about Scott and his idea of (im)possibility of relationships. The subsequent conversation brought back a revisit of a John, who's VERY protective of big brother's peace of mind and heart. So here John and Dr. Tycho Reeves have a talk. Maybe it's a shovel talk. Maybe any adult relationships, including friendships, are tricky, because there's putting oneself out there, conflicting schedules, set commitments, baggage. I'm rather fond of the idea that rescuees carry a torch for Thunderbird One. But do they know Scott Tracy?
Always a great thanks to @janetm74 for discussions and support.
The figure in his lab was tall, towering over an open tab on his work console. Shoulders looked wider across because of the cut of a designer coat. At least Dr. Reeves guessed it was probably designer. Among the wider televised heroics in IR blues it was easy to forget they were all billionaires. The hair color was all wrong though. Flaming red. Tycho Reeves hadn't yet met this Tracy, but certainly harbored respect through academic osmosis.
The handshake was cool, but firm.
"Dr. Reeves, excuse my intrusion. I was in the area."
That could mean any number of things, including being a continent or two over, dropping from orbit, funding something classified there, at CERN, or Tracy Industries attending one business forum or other in New Geneva. Given Tycho Reeves didn't hear Dr. Moffat bumbling excitedly about Dr. Hackenbecker coming over to her lab, it was probably the latter. The visitor's coat also supported the assumption. If it was a formal business meeting, that would mean the CEO of Tracy Industries came too. Scott. Dr. Reeves' heart jumped an extra bit. There was something about the man, a magnetic presence, that made the sincientist want to bounce, speak a mile a minute and share all his achievements. Quite silly, come to think of it. Dr. Reeves wasn't in high school anymore, since he was about twelve - genius and all. But once meeting him, one would want Scott Tracy to look at you and SEE. "There's nothing smarter than hard work!". Tycho's heart gave another enthusiastic patter.
The rustle of expensive wool brought him back to the present. Oh, right! Scott's brother. In his lab. Tycho wondered if he should offer tea. Not that he kept a kettle around quantum sensors.
"Are you here with Tracy Industries?"
He blurted out before any rational consideration took over. The ginger tilted his head, regarding him to whatever end.
"Um... yes. I mean, not exactly. My brother is giving a keynote at the Future of Industries forum. I tagged along for the ride."
So Scott WAS in New Geneva. Dr. Reeves felt an instant pang of sadness as, obviously, the ginger Tracy came over to CERN alone. The lack of extra security measures and no sealed perimeter was a dead give away in the morning. Well, Scott Tracy obviously had many other important commitments. Far more important than a follow up visit with a hapless rescuee.
"Alright then, pass my best to your brother, will you? I still owe him my life. I mean, your brother Scott as I, of course owe my life to your other two brothers too. Pass my best to your brother Scott, that is, since he's the one you will see sooner."
He blurted it all jumbled out before completely embarrassing himself by asking for a guest pass to the Forum opening. The ginger tilted his head the other way, still watching him closely.
"It is easy to see him that way, you know."
That gave Tycho's rambling mind a pause.
He could swear the ginger man sighed.
"A hero. It's easy to see him as a hero. A fearless Thunderbird, sweeping in to save the day."
Dr. Reeves felt suddenly very protective of the image he cherished - a fearless Thunderbird, sweeping in to save him and his passengers, unphased in the face of imminent doom, settling his own frantic mind to focus with well-aimed words, staying with them through almost certain death, patient and kind through his flailing, gentle with the child on board. But, of course, there was a whole different side to Scott Tracy - a young CEO of the global business, a billionaire, a public presence in the upper echelons. A very handsome and a very rich young man. A celebrity heartthrob. Tycho Reeves was absorbed by his research and inventions, but he didn't live under a rock.
"Are you going to tell me now appearances are deceptive?"
If the ginger brother was there to tell him Scott Tracy was out of his league (something the MENSA mind did deduce on his own, thank you very much), he migh as well be snarky about it.
Fiery head shook and he could tell Dr. Tracy sighed again. At least both of them were uncomfortable with this conversation.
"Oh, no! I'm going to tell you appearances don't even begin to scratch the surface. Anything amazing you might imagine to be true about him - heroism, selflessness, care, kindness, love - is actually more by orders of magnitude. So much more!"
Good, then. Dr. Tycho Reeves was not wrong. He still wasn't sure as to the reasons for this ad hoc conversation. Scott Tracy was really not a hard sell. Dr. Reeves might be a genius, but he also wasn't blind. Not that it could go anywhere. As if he stood a chance! The pang in his gut was of a less exuberant variety, that time.
Piercing turquoise gaze was trained on him again. Dr. Reeves wasn't squirmish, but there was obviously something on the Tracy's mind he wasn't letting on.
"You were divorced. Why?"
His marriage to Simon, a research partner since grad school, falling through was a matter of public record in the academic community and certainly a hot topic for grapevine gabbing a conference circuit or three. Simon got his funding from the GDF space program and wanted to move to Texas, to settle down there, Tycho was completely absorbed by the hyper-rail project. It was a dull ache of an ever present phantom of loss, but in a way it was inevitable. They went their separate ways and remained amicable and civil at research events, at least. Not that it was any of his uninvited guest's business! Tycho suddenly felt exposed. But the Other Tracy expected an answer, silently. Something depended on that answer. Dr. Reeves was uneasy to put a finger on what.
"I was caught up with the hyper-car. There was hardly room for anything else. Guess, we were in different places and..."
Tycho let his voice trail off. That had to be one of the most surreal contexts he had ever discussed his failed marriage in. With a Thunderbird Five, no less. Dr. Tracy nodded in tune with some unvoiced thought.
"My brother cares with everything he's got, you know. All in, there's no in between. He will be the most generous, giving, present friend you could ever make."
Dr. Reeves figured as much. But it was purely academic, though. Scott Tracy would never befriend a whimsical inventor, genius or not, heady rush of adrenaline after a breakneck rescue or not. Or would he? Why exactly was the ginger brother giving him a shovel talk, if that what it was?
But Dr. Tracy was not done yet.
"You're obviously dedicated to your work, Dr. Reeves. That warrants respect. But you need to understanding something about my brother - although International Rescue is a non-profit and may seem to a layman's eye like a thrilling hobby - my brother has a consuming commitment to various duties that come with the territory. Duties he will never abandon willingly. Trust me, we tried. There WILL be rainchecks on get-togethers and scheduled calls. More often than not. Scott WILL be late to your Nobel Prize award ceremony if there's a landslide in Peru."
Dr. Reeves opened his mouth to speak and came up with nondescript gargling. Turquoise gaze was level with his own.
"My brother would never hold it against you, if you can't put up, because he doesn't believe anyone would sign up for everything that he is, ultimately. But, Dr. Reeves..."
There was seriousness and searching in the younger man's stare. Tycho instantly was anxious to be found lacking.
"Scott deserves someone in his life who would always choose him, no matter what. I will not see my brother hurt."
Before Dr. Reeves, inventor and genius, top 2% of the best and brightest of his generation, could collect words for a coherent utterance, John Tracy was gone from his lab in a whoosh of high end wool.
The desk comm unit blinked with an incoming call. Scott squinted at the caller ID - Eos and John were usually screening his private calls. Something must have happened! Hopefully not the hyper-car accelerating to Mach 3, again!
"Dr. Reeves? Tycho? How can I help you?"
Scott sounded worried, but the scientist on the other side of the holocall looked disheveled and slightly wild-eyed, like he hadn't slept all night. There was a palpable thrum of nervous energy through the connection.
"It's alright if you miss my Nobel Prize ceremony! I mean, it would be a bloody loss, but if there's an earthquake, it's alright!"
Scott was decidedly not equipped with enough information to follow the convo.
"Huh? Is there an earthquake? Tycho, are you alright?"
It was unusual that John would have patched the call through directly to him, instead of deploying One.
The miniature holo of the scientist waved him off.
"Perfectly fine, thank you! I don't need a rescue! That is, if I did, I'd be perfectly fine too, because you'd rescue me."
Dr. Reeves was rambling again. Scott tried the course correction.
"Tycho, I have to ask again: are you alright?"
Scott was patient and kind, the way he was with a rescuee. The scientist gave another dismissive flail. Maybe he did need help.
"Pfff, I'm not the problem! Yes! I don't wanna be the problem, I want to be part of the solution. I can build a faster hyper-car, so there's no need to rain check a meeting if you're caught up in a landslide. I don't want to put UP with what you are, I want to make a difference!"
It was hard to follow the rapid fire speeds of the genuis mind on any given day, but Scott felt like he was going through a maze backwards in that particular moment, blindfolded.
"Would you like to have coffee sometime? Or tea? Tea for me, definitely, but you can have coffee, of course. Not at the landslide, though!"
Dr. Reeves was loosing track again, but there was a huge smile on the other end of the holocall, flanked with dimples.
"Sure, I'd love a coffee! How about tomorrow, after the Forum opening? I'd rather skip the afternoon mixer - too many people trying to sell me stuff or buy me out."
Unbeknownst to Scott in that moment his schedule for the week shed up to a third of confirmed engagements and his RSVP to the Closing Gala got amended to +one. In the sitting room of their spacious suite John was smiling over his tablet.
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