I had to write something for Virgil and Alan too. Sorry there's nothing really on Gordon, but he was completely absent and I have little guess for where he was, other than disregarded again by the script?

They fist bumped. It was a great way to finish a mission.

Truthfully, he was just glad they finished it.

Alan had a better launch. Alan had a faster and certainly easier moveable ship and the red wasn't half as bad to cope with as he thought, but his green uniform did clash slightly. Thunderbird Two would likely always be his choice.

Explosives were dangerous enough to carry on Thunderbird Two, even less wise to carry them on what was an explosive in itself, especially one likely to be hurled through practically anything.

If he had any clue how to pilot a rocket, he would quite simply have done the work himself, but Alan was truly the expert in that area, leaving him to Gordon's position of back seat driving, giving out the odd instruction as he went. And the odd, unexpected warning of that.

"Fischler's started up his rocket again!" Still, he tried not to show how much that panicked him. Alan may be the expert, may be the great pilot they all now recognised him as, but anything could easily be too much for someone, or overcome man. They knew that better than anyone.

No one was invincible.

The comet fractured, much of it flying towards them, alarms blearing away seemingly louder than in Two and Thunderbird Three was blown away with ease compared to the steady bulk he knew.

"It was a rough ride."

"But thanks to Alan, we're okay."

It really was thanks to Alan. He'd been able to naught, but sit there, tense and clasped to his seat. Now he too had witnessed Alan's piloting abilities first hand, making a total of all of them having co-piloted Three. It was nice to be able to co-pilot for once.

It was still equally as stressful as piloting though. Space was just stressful it seemed.

"We would have finished the job by now if he hadn't butted in."

It was incredibly irritating, not to mention dangerous. Anything could have happened and he would have felt guilty for being able to do little. In the moment Scott and Brains switched channels he saw Alan breathe a sigh a relief. It was hard to believe the kid still doubted himself after all this time, all these rescues, all these manoeuvres… all the things he could do and yet he still seemed to think he couldn't. His relief was a cover for insecurity as much as his own was for quilt.

"How about Virgil and I forget the comet and zip back and move Global One out of the way?"

He was sure that was suggested to avoid damaging Thunderbird Three with the loaded explosives.

"Better you two stay on task."

"And Fischler's rocket."

"Especially Fischlet's rocket."

Scott could hardly be ignored though.

It made him smile. Alan was smiling too. At least the elder could still restore the situation from the ground no matter what happened.

Frustration.

Now everything was taking too long and not working.

"There must be a way to dig deeper."

"Yeah if we back out and ram it." Good idea. He made a reach for his helmet, much to Alan's visualised dismay. "Which is what you want to do."

"Um-hum." The younger had adorned his own helmet, obviously wisely sensing there was no way out of this one.

"Nice work. The ship's still in one piece."

The younger was incredibly pleased as he came back from the shakes of the landing.

"Now slow down the drill. Less speed, high torque."

Alan was partially on the right track. Yes, he did ace physics, though a lot of that had been thanks to John helping him study until he practically knew it all. The rest was simply expansion of knowledge. Especially in the science of explosives.

Alan was definitely less keen on the idea, his research highly focussed on space.

To think they finally managed it, just in time and could now go home. Thunderbird Three was fine, yes, but he would gladly take Thunderbird Two any day.

"This is us leaving." At long last. Earth and blue skies were beckoning him. Alan looked a little less ecstatic. It seemed to be taking a while for him to enact said leaving too. "Except our grappling arms won't retract."

Now he practically exploded. "What?"

The comet was burning up at full speed and from a glance, they definitely did appear fully stuck. Great, that had been his idea. Well Alan's suggestion, but he was the one who agreed.

"I'm not thrilled about it myself!"

He knew the younger pilot wasn't. This was his ship. If Thunderbird Two was put in this position now he would be on the brink of murdering Fischler. Alan luckily seemed a bit more focussed on fixing the situation.

His mind was clearly running at a thousand miles an hour, the cogs twisting and turning in look for a solution. All that training, all that work he'd done, if anyone could do it, it would be Alan because he couldn't do a thing.

"You can do it, Alan."

The comet was a mix of orange and grey, like pavements on fire or erupting volcanos. Thunderbird Three was like the diamond reaching out from the ruff, escaping in speed enough to avoid too much damage.

Alan had pulled through. He always pulls through when he needs to.

It was like he said, they were okay thanks to Alan. The comet was gone because of him, but they were still here due to nothing he did.

"They did it." Scott's voice echoed across.

All he really did was set an explosive charge. Alan did everything else.

They fist bumped. It was a great way to finish a mission.

"Well, that was explosive."

From Alan's reaction, he'd had enough explosions for one day. Virgil just chuckled, happy they were both heading home intact.