The Best Father's Day Gift Ever.

Summary. . . . . . . . . . . What better gift could you ask for on Father's Day?

Disclaimer. . . . . . . . . . Not mine, never will be, just loaning them for some fluffy fun.

A.N. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . So I read a story upon here by KatZen and thought it was so amazing; it's called Daddy's Day, and if you haven't read it, do so. The Fluffy Bunny of the plot kind, hit me hard afterwards though, and after reading a review from Teobi for Daddy's Day it got stronger, so I PM'd KatZen and asked for permission to add to her brilliant fic. Being a Virgil lover I wanted to see my Thunderbird 2 pilot happy too, so this is what I came up with. KatZen this is for you, I hope that I did it justice, and I very much hope that you like it.

It's time. I've had this planned for so long now, but now that its time I don't know whether I can go through with it. What if he's not as happy as I am? What if he's mad I haven't told him sooner? I just couldn't do it though, I just couldn't tell him. I was being selfish I know, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't stand, if everything went so devastatingly wrong again, to see him so hurt once more, so crushed; and I couldn't stand the pitying looks they all try so hard to hide; or the way they hide the children away, as though at the sight of them I would be likely to burst into tears, when in actual fact their presence is more healing. So I hid it, I didn't tell him, I didn't tell anyone, that way if it failed again, no one but me would ever know, no one but me would have to suffer. But I've passed the danger stages, passed the stage we suffered the last two times, and the specialists say everything is looking good, so its time.

I've wanted to tell him all week. I watch every year as this time approaches, watch as each time it comes around his mood gradually changes from calm and happy, to somber and irritable. I watch him as all the family gathers together, watch him shun away slightly from his siblings, but never from the children. That's what has made this whole experience all the more harder, because I just know what a wonderful father he would be. I wanted to tell him this morning, but I needed that one last check up before I did, so I told him I wanted to be alone and watched as he shuffled off down the beach, downcast and hurting, and I wanted to run after him, but the phone rang and the doctors image popped up on the screen, and through the wonders of modern technology my checkup commenced.

Someone must have had a talk to him, probably his own Father, because the next time I saw him he was happier, sitting with the young ones surrounded by paper, and crayons, and paints, and pencils, patiently inquiring what each one would like on the Father's Day cards they were making, before sketching it out for them; gently encouraging their color choices, cutting out whatever shapes they wanted to add, advising and helping them stay between the lines. A few hours later I found him in the pool, surrounded once again, tirelessly spending time with each, as they all wanted to be thrown in the water; I swear there's some Gordon in all of them. Later still as I went to the kitchen to help with dinner he was sitting, with his niece upon his lap, at his beloved piano calmly working her through her scales. Each time brought a smile to my face, because each time I knew if he was like this with them, he would be amazing with his own.

It was agonizing sitting through dinner, the thought of what I was about to do making me feel sick. He noticed my lack of appetite, softly whispered words spoke gently in my ear asking if I was alright, and I wanted to tell him again, but instead I just said I wasn't hungry. He gave me a puzzled look, I normally have an appetite to rival his own, but didn't push any further, just gently squeezed my hand under the table. Thank god I've not shown yet, how would I have explained that one?

I waited until all the dishes were washed, dried and put away, a Tracy tradition meaning that the older men bore that chore, whilst the women and children relaxed on the patio, enjoying the warmth of a Pacific Ocean night. As soon as they were finished though, they joined us, whiskey glasses in hand, and as soon as they did the children who had been playing quietly fought between themselves as to who would join him upon his chair.

I knew I couldn't wait any longer, knew it had to be now. I felt sick as I stood up on shaky legs and made my way over to him. He looked up at me, and I very nearly faltered, the uncertainty I had been feeling increasing. Would he be happy? Would he be angry? There was only one way to find out.

"Virgil, I have something for you." She spoke, her voice as shaky as her legs had been. Handing him the envelope she waited.

He opened it slowly, took out the contents and froze, his jaw dropping open. It seemed like hours, but was merely seconds before his eyes turned to hers, his honey brown orbs wet and shining.


"Really." She replied unable to hide her smile.

"But. . . . . . .But. . . . . . . They said. . . . . How? When? How?" He stuttered out.

"The trip to Cabo, the fight, the aftermath."

"But that was about 4 months ago."

"20 weeks exactly. I didn't want to get your hopes up in case things went wrong." Her smile faltering.

"So you kept it to yourself?"

"Yes, I'm so sorry." She replied, her voice breaking as tears brimmed her eyes, her mind believing he was mad at her.

He handed his nephew off to his Father, and stood up beside her, his face a stoic mask, and she had to fight to stop herself from running away. He was mad, he was mad, the words kept going over and over in her mind, how could she have been so stupid? How could she have kept this from him? All doubt left her though as he gently cupped her face in his hands, and brought her eyes up to meet his own; and it was as though he could read her mind.

"I'm not mad." He whispered. "I'm sad that you felt you needed to go through this alone, I'm angry at myself for not seeing the signs, but I'm not mad at you. I love you." His hands left her face then, his strong arms encircling her easily, and she felt herself being lifted and twirled around, only for him to stop suddenly as he realized what he'd done, and she couldn't help but smile as she felt the full wrath of the mother henning his Brother's spoke of with fear, as she was ushered back into a seat, her feet elevated upon an ottoman he snagged from under a protesting Scott's long legs.

It was Jeff who eventually spoke, breaking through the cocoon that seemed to surround them both. "Virgil? What's going on?"

Virgil looked at his gorgeous and glowing wife, getting her nod of approval, before turning to the others. "I. . . . . we have an announcement to make." He walked over to his own Father and handed him the envelope Gus had given him, waiting for him to glance at the contents before adding. "Father, congratulations you're going to be a Grandfather again. I'm going to be a Dad."

A.N. . . . . . . . . . Thank you so much to everyone who has taken time out to read this, and again thanks to KatZen for allowing me to add to her fic. Peanut x