June 5, 2054

The sun rose on the small island off the Eastern coast of Australia, filtering through the glass walls of the house and glinting off the water of the pool. 

The water rippled in the wake of someone swimming laps.  Shadows of people were visible in the house as the sun rose, a few moving through the kitchen on the lowest level, and one running down the stairs on the upper level.

"Vroom...!  Vroom vroom...!  Oh, no!  Watch out for that chair!  Nee-ooom! Wohoo!" Alan shouted as the plane he held aloft an arms' length from his ear narrowly missed his father's desk chair.

"Alan, that's the sound a car makes, not a plane," Virgil stated when his youngest brother flew down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Well, that's great!  'Cus this is a flying car disguised as a plane!  That's what I want for my birthday, Brains.  A flying car that can disguise as a plane!" Alan flew his model plane around the island in the kitchen.

Brains chuckled.  "I d-don't know about that, Alan."

"You did get me something, though, right?" The blond stopped running and looked between Scott, Virgil, and Brains.

"What?  Why would we get you something?" Scott asked, grinning to Virgil and Brains.

"Because it's my birthday!" Alan exclaimed. "I'm eight!  Come on, you guys didn't forget, did you?  John remembered!"

"Of course we didn't forget, little bro!" A cheery voice exclaimed from the glass doors.  Gordon walked in, tracking water behind him as he ruffled his golden hair with a towel.  MAX, Brains' experimental robotic aid, bleeped dolefully before fetching a mop and cleaning up after the teen.

Alan took a seat at the table, setting his plane down next to him, as Scott fetched him a bowl of cereal. "Good, because John called me yesterday evening!  And guess what?  Where he was last night, it was already my birthday!  Isn't that crazy?"

Gordon chuckled. "That is crazy!  Did he say whether or not he'd be coming down to celebrate with us today?"

Alan bowed his head sadly. "He said he didn't think he'd be able to make it. I was really hoping he would... he's been up there for two weeks."

"We miss him too, Alan."

"But, I did get his present early!" He held up the model plane as Scott set the cereal in front of him. "Isn't it awesome!"

"Good morning, boys."

"Morning, dad!"

"How's the birthday boy this morning?" Jeff asked, ruffling his youngest's hair.

"Great!  Look at the plane John got me!" Alan held it up for his father to observe.

"Wow, that is a good gift!  I may not be able to beat that-"

A loud crash cut Jeff off, causing everyone to cover their ears.  When the verberation of the metal bowls hitting the floor dissipated, the boys turned to Gordon, who was kneeling on the counter, grimacing.  "Sorry."

"Gordon-" Jeff started, but the young teen was quick to defend himself.

"Someone moved my protein shakes!  The bowls slipped!" He jumped off the counter to collect them.

"Aw, Mr. Shorty can't reach his shakes..." Virgil teased, grinning.

"You're one to talk!" Gordon shot back, making Alan laugh and Scott chuckle.

As Gordon cleaned up the bowls, Scott turned to his father. "What time are we heading out today?"

"'Bout an hour, so you boys better be ready," he told Virgil and Scott, who grinned.

"We'll be ready."

"Gordon?" Jeff called to his son who was currently trying to get MAX to use its flamethrowers to open the new package of protein shakes.

"Yeah, dad?"

Alan noticed what was going on. "Oo!  That looks like fun!" He stood up and made to go run towards his brother, but Jeff was fast.  Alan laughed as his father scooped him up into his arms and began to tickle him.

"Ah!  Dad, stop!" He cried through squealing laughter.

Jeff chuckled but sent Brains a look.

"D-don't worry." He assured, standing up and walking over to Gordon. "The f-flamethrower needs me or Jeff t-to activate it."

Gordon sighed, defeated. "Man..."

Jeff set Alan back down and turned back to the swimmer, who was cutting open the package with a pair of scissors. "Gordon?  We need to figure out when you're going to start training."

Gordon paused, thinking, before continuing to cut. "I'm already training."

"No, not swimming.  For International Rescue."

"Dad, I already said... I need to focus on - this -" he tore open the package, a few shakes spilling onto the floor, which he picked up. "- right now."

"Son, you need to start your training.  You're thirteen-"

Gordon finished the sentence for him, gripping a protein shake "-and I almost have the cut for the Olympic trials in butterfly!  The Olympics are in 2 years!  I have a shot!"

"Mr. Shorty's going to swim in the Olympics?"

"Shut up!" Gordon shot towards Alan, who shrunk back at his brother's sharp tone.

"Gordon!" Jeff scolded.

"They're making fun of me again!  And I have a chance to make the Olympics, even with my height!  I'm not training for International Rescue right now!  This is too important." Gordon slammed all but one of the shakes that had fallen onto the counter, before leaving the torn packaging on the counter and storming back out onto the pool deck.

"Just give him some time to cool off, dad," Scott said as his father rubbed his forehead to stave off the headache. "He'll come around."

Jeff sighed.  "I hope so."

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"That looks awesome!  What is it?"

Alan was standing out on the pool deck with his all his family except for John.  His father and two older brothers had returned back from training early so they could have some family time.  Seeing as Gordon refused to leave the pool for more than a couple hours at a time, they were back outside in the mid-afternoon heat.

"It's a c-caster board," Brains explained, holding up the red and black, figure-eightish board as he walked out onto the deck. "It's like a skateboard, b-but it only has two wheels.  T-these were p-popular about 40 years or so ago.  I figured y-you would enjoy one, so I made you one."

"Cool!" Alan was just about bouncing up and down with excitement. "How does it work?"

Grandma Tracy, along with Jeff, Virgil, and Scott, watched from the shade of an umbrella as Brains explained the physics behind the board.

"Boring!  I want to know how to make it go!"

Brains gave up on the physics lesson and showed Alan how the board swiveled, and then explained how to use the swivel to turn and accelerate.  Soon, Alan was trying on his own.  Brains sat on the end of one of the deck chairs to watch as the birthday boy tried again and again to successfully get it started.  When he finally did get it going, it was only a couple seconds before he lost it again.  Each time, the eight-year-old popped up laughing, and eagerly got back on. 

After only half an hour, he cried out, a wide smile on his face. "Guys, look!  I made it around the pool!"

Jeff grinned. "That's awesome, buddy!"

Alan continued to ride the board for almost another entire lap, before one of the wheels got caught and he found himself flying into the water of the pool, right into Gordon's lane.  He popped up, laughing.  "That was awesome!  I was like a rocket!  Scott, did you see?"

"Yeah, I saw, Alan," Scott said, his heart rate steadying.  Looking at the faces around him, he could tell his heart wasn't the only one that stopped when Alan's small body went flying.

"Gordon!  Have you seen me ride this thing Brains made?  It's so much fun!" Alan climbed out of the pool, which Gordon was now standing in because of the child that blocked his lane.

"No, I haven't.  Sounds like fun though!" He swam to the edge and pulled himself up to sit on the wall, grabbing his water bottle and taking a swig.

"Watch me!" Alan got back on the board, now soaking wet, and took off again.

Gordon grinned. "Wow!  Almost like a surf board!" He threw a shaka up with his fist. "Hang ten, Alan!"

"No," Jeff said, not looking to patch up his youngest tonight.

"It's alright, dad, look!  I'm doing it!" Alan continued to circle the pool, laughing as he experimented with the caster board. 

"That child..." Grandma Tracy said as she shook her head, a find grin on her face.

"H-he sure is something."

"Great job, Brains."

That evening, as the sun was starting to set, the Tracy family had set up Alan's birthday dinner outside.  They were just sitting down, when an odd sound of soft thrusters caused Alan to stand quickly.

"What was that?"

Scott, Jeff, and Virgil shared a knowing grin, watching the space elevator descend from the clouds.

Alan turned, before gasping louder than his family thought possible. "John!  Oh my gosh, he came!  Dad, he came!  Look!"

And then he was gone.  Alan shot off into the house, heading towards John eagerly.  When he caught sight of the red-head walking towards him in civilian clothes, Alan threw himself into his arms.  "I can't believe you're here!  You said you wouldn't be able to come-"

John smiled widely, his arms wrapped around the boy. "I was able to get a few things done that I needed to do.  How's your birthday going?"

"Oh, it's been great!" Alan broke away from his brother. "Come see what Brains made for me!  It's so cool!"

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"Gordon?  We need to talk."

The young teen glanced up at his father, frowning. "I don't want to."

"Talk or train?"

"Train.  For International Rescue.  Not yet, at least."

Jeff sat down on the edge of the pool, next to his son.  The moonlight flickered off the still water of the pool.  He could hear his youngest laughing with John out in the field, and everyone else was inside.

"Son..."

"Dad, I want to be a part of IR.  I do.  But I can't start as early as my brothers did."

"Son, even if you focus entirely on swimming, there's no guarantee you'll make it."

"But there's a chance, dad!  A chance.  I could make history!  I could be an Olympian.  I'm not giving up on that chance."

"Gordon-"

A whisper cut him off.  "For mom."

Jeff paused. "What?"

"Mom.  She -" Gordon held back the tears the memory summoned. "- she wanted me to go.  She told me... She told me to win gold.  For her." He sniffed, a tear rolling down his cheek. "I know it's been eight years, and I was so little, but I remember that.  I remember her.  She - she called me her little minnow.  I just - I can't let her down." Tears were running down his cheeks now, pooling at his chin.

Jeff's face softened.  "Oh, Gordon..." He wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders.  Gordon leaning into the embrace, sniffing.

"I can't give up.  I have to try my hardest, and that means focusing entirely on swimming."

"Okay, but, you have to start training someday."

"I know." Gordon wiped his eyes.

Jeff let them rest in the silence for a bit while he thought. "That means you can't keep going until you make the Olympics if you don't make it this round."

Gordon looked up. "Why not?"

"You'll be nineteen in 2060.  That's much too late to start training.  I can't have you not training for IR for another six years."

"So, what, I only get one shot?"

"You said yourself that you have a good shot.  And you still have two years before - where will they be?"

"Athens." Gordon smiled, looking back down to the water.  He kicked his feet through it lazily.

"You still have two years before Athens.  That's plenty of time to drop however many more seconds you need." Jeff paused. "But yes, you only get one shot."

Gordon sighed, but nodded. "One shot."

"Alright.  I've officially approved of you putting your training off until after Athens.  But as soon as your shot's over," he continued sternly, "be that after the games or because you don't make trials or you don't make the 2056 team, you start your training.  Understood?"

Gordon nodded, grinning. "Understood."

"Alright." Jeff stood.

"Does that mean I can get the tattoo if I make it?" Gordon asked, excited.

"What tattoo?"

"The rings.  Olympians get them."

Jeff chuckled nervously.  "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Gordon.  We'll talk about that closer to 2056."

"That wasn't a no!" The teen celebrated.

Jeff sighed, but smiled as he walked away.

February 2, 2055

"Mr. Jeff Tracy."

"Lord Hugh."

"It's a pleasure," the greying man with a thick British accent said as he shook Jeff's hand. "Come, allow me to introduce my wife, Lady Amelia."

An aging blonde stood from the table and Jeff shook her hand as well. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Amelia."

"The honor is ours, Mr. Tracy.  The Creighton-Wards are happy to meet such an incredible man." Her British accent resonated throughout the hall. "Now, shall we chat over tea?"

"We shall."