To The Moon And Back

Chapter Twenty-one

"What song is that you're humming?" Grandma asked, coming up behind John in the kitchen where he was sneaking a second helping of pie.

He jumped, almost dropping the pie dish, still unused to being in a house with people in it after his latest term of duty in Thunderbird Five.

"Song?" he asked, righting the dish and cutting a much smaller piece than he had originally intended, aware that Grandma was watching him.

"You keep humming something, it sounds familiar but I can't place it."

John shrugged and said as casually as he could, "I don't know it either, I must have heard it somewhere and can't seem to get it out of my head."

"Huh." Grandma didn't look convinced. "I'm sure I recall it from my youth, it's quite old now." She hummed a few bars, trying to remember the rest of it, "I might have it in my collection somewhere, I'll have a look later and tell you if I do."

John, having forked up a large mouthful of pie, hastily chewed and swallowed before replying, "Thanks, Grandma."

"And don't eat all that pie," she warned while digging through the refrigerator, searching the shelves for her ingredients, "I'm making something special for dinner and I don't want you to ruin your appetite."

"There's no danger of that," John promised her with a cheeky grin as he handed the pie dish back to her, "your cooking is the only thing I come home for."

"Oh, get away with you," she twittered, playfully cuffing him around the ear, "you boys could clear out a restaurant kitchen and still want more."

"We're strapping men," he argued, striking a classic muscle pose to prove it. "We have to fuel ourselves somehow."

"Mm, I pity your future wives when they realise how much effort it takes to keep you all fed and watered," Grandma continued to grumble as she covered the pie dish and slid it back onto its designated shelf. "Who ate almost all of that cheese block?"

"I don't think there's any danger of you losing your head chef position any time soon, Grandma," John teased, though there was a ring of truth to it that still made something inside him twinge. There was no chance of any of them getting married while they were working for International Rescue full-time, and by the time they aged out of active duty, it would be harder than ever to find someone.

"Never say never, Johnny."

John chuckled, "That's what Alan and Scott said."

"Well I never, those boys actually making sense, I'll alert the media."

"Had to happen sometime."

"That it did," Grandma agreed, chuckling fondly. "Now, get out from under my feet, will you?"

John held his hands up in surrender, backing out of the kitchen, "No problem, I was just about to head to the pool anyw-"

The emergency call tone echoed up from the lounge.

"Looks like my dip will have to wait," he said, tossing her a wink as he trotted up the stairs to receive his orders.

-x-

Six hours, one typhoon and a donk on the head later, a tired, damp, and very cold, John flopped down on his bed, more than ready to sleep the night away. He lay there for a full five minutes, not moving, one arm thrown over his eyes to shield them from the bright light, as he worked up the energy to take a shower.

Eventually, the dampness of his uniform became too much to bear and he heaved himself upright, swinging his legs off the bed. The shower was blissful, almost too hot, but just what his cold, tired, body needed.