Tap

Summary: Yamato is grateful that the kitchen sink is the least of his worries when Jyou comes home from the hospital after a bad day.

A/N: Inspired by a random word generator I used to make prompts for myself. Hana is Yamato's daughter / Jyou's step daughter, FYI.

Warnings/Pairings: Fluff. A little angst, but not much. Jyoumato

I hated fixing the sink. It wasn't like I could expect Jyou to do it. He could barely clasp that dinky lunchbox he was setting down at the dining table, much less a wrench. He had just kicked off his shoes near the door and had been craning his neck to see me, buried in pipes and strange smells that were under our sink. "You're just now fixing it?" he insisted, taking a seat. He hadn't removed his doctor's jacket and so from where I was, he reminded me of some kind of mad scientist.

"I got... distracted," I admitted.

"Which kind? Sleeping all day? Sleeping with yourself all day?"

"Here and there," I muttered, leaning all my weight into the wrench with nothing to show for it. "This is balls."

"Well, if you want me to do dishes and we don't have a dishwasher, I need a sink that... well, drains," Jyou shrugged. "You know this is going to make dinner late, too?"

"As I've said before, is there anything you don't complain about?" I hissed, pulling myself from out under the sink and getting some fresh air. I could feel my bangs sticking to my ear, the side of my forehead from the humidity. "Why didn't your Dad teach you to use your hands?"

Jyou usually would have made a snide remark about his father using him as a punching bag instead of a son, but he went the naughty route today, "You say I'm good with my hands, don't you?" Something told me he was still wondering what I had been up to all day- which really wasn't anything. I had spent five hours online looking for an anniversary gift and chatting with Koushiro (and listening to his marital dilemmas with Taichi- dodged a bullet there) and although someone may have got distracted by Jyou's ever changing stash of internet history, I actually made time to write a song or two, which was saying a lot when all you did was train, train, train at JAXA for a mission that you might not get, ever.

"Don't tempt me. I'm trying to do something productive," I said finally, pulling myself out from under the sink. The thing was so matted inside I was surprised it had worked as long as it did. Still, all I had to do now was reassemble everything and we would have draining water once more that wasn't the bathtub or the bathroom sink. Our restroom still had this weird odor in it.

"You're always being productive," Jyou whined.

"I get it from my father," I remarked.

"Put all that down a minute," Jyou begged. I had been staring down at the rust stain on my white tank top and the water soaked splotches of my jeans but his tone made me look up.

"God... who did you lose today?" I whispered, fiddling with the wrench and turning my gaze away.

Jyou sighed as he looked down at the table. We had a lot of repeat conversations. Like fixing the sink. Or discussing the dead. Jyou wasn't the one to lose someone often, but when it did happen every now and then, through no fault of his own for sure, he couldn't stop giving off this uncomfortable vibe that I had learned to cling to over the years. I mean, I really didn't notice it until after the fact, but I always did notice it like I was now, eventually. Now, you think just the death of a human being would rattle Jyou up, but combine that with the disappointment of his superiors, himself, the family, and the judgement descending from Olympus with the Review Board... I had a feeling I would be forcing a little of my own medication down his throat (a few drinks and a cigarette).

"Um," Jyou started, tears coming from his eyes. He ran a shaky hand over his cheek. "It was a little girl, about Hana's age. You know, how I've grown so close to her now... I just."

I frowned. I didn't want to imagine seeing a dead child, ever. However, I knew someone that had and offered the suggestion, "You know, Ken knows what you're going through."

"...I should call him. It's been awhile I could without him wondering what trouble you're family is getting into." I glared. Playfully. "...sometimes I wish I could just work with machines all day, like you."

"It's not all fun and dandy," I warned him. "It's more like I get a few extra lives to toy with, though. If I make a mistake, I have a chance to get it right. I don't think that's fair, do you?"

"I guess not. I chose the profession-"

"Not really," I chuckled. "Still, you know you're a good doctor. It's a team effort to perform brain surgery and I've yet to hear any of your team be fired for something like this. You're worrying over nothing, as always."

"T-Thanks, Yamato..."

Tears were free-flowing now and he could barely look me in the eyes. I had shame in my own tears as a kid as well- after all, I had an image and a little brother that required my own personal bottle to put them in, but now that I was under this roof, with him, I could shed a few tears now and then and know that they wouldn't go unnoticed. Niether would Jyou's, once hidden behind the closed doors of a father that didn't know tears existed and a mother that couldn't see through her own. So, I let Jyou cry and did what little I could do. I poured him a drink, offered him a drag, then went back to fixing that damn sink, because that would be one less frustration for him, even if it was one more for me. When Jyou finally composed himself I was a little relieved that there was one tap around here I didn't have to fix.