I absolutely loved the episode, 'Runaway'. Brains and Scott were great as a team, and so funny! This fic is a tag on to the end of that episode. If you haven't seen it yet, then look away- although there aren't any major spoilers.

Thunderbirds Are Go does not belong to me, nor do any of the characters. Thanks to Tikatu for being a second pair of eyes and giving my grammar some necessary tweaks. I sense the beginning of a beautiful friendship- or at the very least, some mutually beneficial beta sessions.

Footnotes

"Tastes like a foot!"

Scott Tracy grimaced as the half chewed morsel of burnt cookie scratched its way down his throat like a miniature rock fall.

"A foot that hasn't been washed for a week!" said Alan, warming to the theme.

Scott gagged. With one eye on Grandma, he looked around for a place to dump the other half without her noticing. He edged towards a nearby house plant but the old lady was fast.

"Finish that, young man," she rasped, fixing her eldest grandson with a beady eye.

"But, Grandma..." Scott began, trying to ignore Alan's muffled giggling, "...if I eat the cookie I'll ruin my appetite for that beautiful apple pie!"

Grandma huffed loudly. "You? Ruin your appetite? You boys are like starving bears, always ready to eat anything."

Scott turned the burnt offering this way and that, looking for any bits that weren't scorched to a cinder. "Not exactly everything," he muttered forlornly.

Grandma sidled over and nudged his shoulder, giving him a 'crazy old lady' sort of smile that scared rather than encouraged him. "Don't worry- I won't force you." She grinned, taking the cookie from his hand and putting it back on the plate. "You can have some apple pie."

Scott felt the relief wash over him like a tide and was just about to gladly accept a large portion of pie when she added, "... and you can finish the cookie for dessert."

As Alan laughed loudly behind him, Scott bit into the apple pie with a sickly grin. However, the sweet taste of the pie was so beautiful that his misery was soon forgotten. Closing his eyes in rapture, Scott Tracy allowed his mouth to be flooded with the sour tang of apple and sweet crumbly pastry, sighing like a man who had just crawled across three thousand miles of desert for one sip of water.

Later on in the day, Scott went looking for Brains. He hadn't seen the mastermind around for a while, not since returning to Tracy Island from their latest mission. After a long search, he found the young genius sitting in the garden. The garden wasn't a place where Brains normally went, but he had found a place in the shade and was sitting with his back against a palm tree, looking pensively out at the ocean.

"Penny for your thoughts," said Scott, approaching the bespectacled young man.

"I d-don't think they are worth that much," Brains said in his lilting accent.

"Are you kidding? Your thoughts are always worth their weight in gold."

Brains looked up, but his eyes didn't quite meet Scott's. If they had, they would have seen those blue orbs twinkling with quiet amusement. "Don't be fooled," he said shyly. "I am not all that."

Scott lowered himself onto the grass, smiling at Brains's use of early twenty first century slang. That was Brains- far ahead of everyone in some ways, and delightfully behind in others. The eldest Tracy brother leaned back on his elbows with his long legs stretched out in front of him and gazed at the triangle of blue water between his feet.

"You did good today," he said gently. "We were proud of you."

"No, Scott. I cried like a baby and nearly had everyone k-killed."

Scott grunted. "You handled your job like a pro. Show me anyone who wouldn't be a little scared of zip-lining out of Thunderbird One onto a runaway train."

Brains cast a sidelong glance at his friend. "You wouldn't. And neither would V-Virgil, or Gordon, or Alan, or K-Kayo or John... and probably not even Grandma Tracy. Just me, the biggest w-wimp of them all. Wh-what use is my intellect when I can't even go outside without p-panicking."

"You're outside now," said Scott, making sure he used his 'trying to make a joke' voice.

"I'm in the garden," said Brains, obstinately. "What is the worst that could happen?"

"A bee could sting you." Too late, Scott realised that was the wrong thing to say. Brains began to scramble to his feet, and only a firm hand on his shoulder made the genius sit down again, his eyes darting nervously behind his thick spectacle lenses.

"Quit it, Brains, or I'll sting you myself."

His escape thwarted, Brains put his face in his hands and continued bemoaning his plight. "I'm such a loser," he wailed mournfully.

"Really, Brains? If you were such a loser, we wouldn't be sitting here now. I'm telling you- you did good. As Allie might say, 'you have the brains and the moves'. Even if your moves take a little longer to get moving."

"But that's exactly it, Scott. When a split second decision needs to be made, there is no t-time for p-panic attacks. You risked your life so that I could risk my life g-getting onto that train. And because of that, we lost Thunderbird One."

"We didn't lose her. She's like a cat with nine lives- she finds her way home. Which is great when you've had a few beers." Scott glanced at Brains's look of surprise. "Joking," he sing-songed.

"I j-just wish I were more c-confident," said Brains. "You all make it look so easy."

Scott put his hand on Brains's shoulder, a lot more gently this time. "A lot of things look easy when they aren't," he said in his 'soothing big brother' voice. "Anything that looks easy has to be worked at. You make practical intelligence look easy, but I struggle with the small details. This is why we all work together, because we all have different strengths and weaknesses. Yes, weaknesses. Want me to tell you how fast my heart beats when Thunderbird One flies out of that silo? It's not all excitement- some of it is cold, nauseating fear. I don't know what I'm gonna find when I get out there- I'd be lost if I didn't have people like you helping me make right decisions. We're a team, Brains. Not one individual is any better or worse than another, and that includes you. Stop trying to be perfect, because there's no such thing."

"M.A.X. is perfect," said Brains.

"No he isn't," Scott shot back. "M.A.X. is a machine. As much as I like him, and as much as I love his apple pie, I'd prefer to be guided by someone with heart and soul, even if it means mistakes are made."

A tiny smile began to tug at the corners of Brains's mouth, trying hard to lift his spirits.

"I hope I n-never cause anyone to be killed because of my cowardice," he stammered.

"You won't," said Scott, firmly. "And don't call it cowardice because it's not. Call it caution, or carefulness. Something that stops an impulsive person like me from acting on the spot. Look at it like this. You need to be who you are, so that I can be who I am. Because it all works so much better that way."

Brains smiled at last, and a glimmer of hope returned to his shining eyes. "It does sound b-better when you put it like that," he admitted.

"I'm glad you agree," the eldest Tracy grinned.

"I d-do feel a little better now."

Scott patted Brains's shoulder. They reflected on their conversation for a few quiet moments, and then Scott rose to his feet, extending a strong hand to help Brains clamber out of his awkward cross legged position. Sure enough, the young genius was soon hopping about, complaining of pins and needles in both legs.

Scott dug into his shirt pocket. "Here, this'll take your mind off it," he said, placing a burnt cookie into Brains's hand. Brains stared down at it, his brow furrowed with renewed worry. "Never say I don't give you anything."

Brains grimaced and took an experimental nibble. Two seconds later, he spat the crumbs out in disgust.

"Blechh!" he gasped. "It t-tastes..."

"I know," Scott said with a hearty laugh. "Like a foot. Gonna finish it?"

"Are you k-kidding me?" With a flick of the wrist, Brains threw the cookie as far as he could, watching it sail into the sky like a tiny burnt frisbee until it disappeared over the edge of the cliff. Once he was certain the vile object was gone, he turned around and the two of them began their short walk back to Tracy villa. "Sometimes it's okay to be a c-coward," he asserted, causing Scott to belly laugh with sheer delight.

"Since Grandma's cookies are way more likely to kill you than zip-lining out of Thunderbird One, I'd have to agree with you there, Brains!"