Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

Chores, by their very definition, were boring. Dreaded things, and there wasn't a single Tracy that would willingly do them if there was any choice. Unfortunately, the nature of chores meant there wasn't a choice, and with their life revolving around rescues and the gaps in between, they didn't have much of a say over when they did them, either.

The only exception to the boring rule, in Scott's opinion, was maintenance. Yes, it was necessary – painfully so, considering how many lives relied upon the equipment being in top condition at all times, including their own – but Scott had always loved aircraft. An afternoon spent in Thunderbird One's hangar, running diagnostics and replacing anything that was starting to get worn from use, could almost be considered relaxing.

He enjoyed Thunderbird Two's maintenance, too. Clambering in and around the giant freighter with his brother was one of his favourite ways to spend his time; in theory, Virgil didn't need the help and theoretically could get it all done by himself, but things always went faster with more hands. Spending time together was also a bonus.

Gordon sometimes chipped in, his role as co-pilot as well as Thunderbird Two's relationship with Thunderbird Four pulling the squid in despite planes not being Gordon's first choice of machinery to tinker with, and of course the aquanaut slaved over his own 'bird.

It was Alan they were working on. In full teenager swing, he was at least happy enough to do Thunderbird Three's maintenance, but attempts to coax him over towards any other 'bird were met with resistance and creative chore dodging. Scott didn't quite have the heart to get Brains to teach MAX to say no whenever the robot was convinced to take Alan's place, memories of his own childhood and trying to evade chores stirring whenever the thought crossed his mind. At least Alan was willing to do his own 'bird's maintenance. Scott was well aware that Mom had had to forcibly drag him into doing chores as a kid.

Now it was his responsibility to make sure his little brothers were doing their fair share, and there were some days – especially when Alan was fully throwing himself into teenagerhood, and Gordon decided today was not a chore day unless it involved a bright yellow submarine – where he wondered how Mom had done it.

But then, mothers were their own special breed. And grandmothers even more so.

Because Scott paid attention to the maintenance on International Rescue's side of things, and of course there was the grumbled at but obeyed chore rota for things like cooking (if they left that to their grandmother, as much as they loved her, International Rescue would never be fit to launch), washing the dishes (when that wasn't put up as a bet forfeit) and laundry (another common bet forfeit), but when it came to housework, he was as bad as the rest of his brothers.

And all bets were off.

Scott and Virgil were a team. Always had been and always would be. But when Grandma entered the equation, well.

Virgil could be a traitor when he wanted to.

Scott had lost count of the number of times now that downtime had struck, Grandma had pounced with the dreaded mop and a glint in steely blue eyes that said there would be no escape only for Virgil to swan straight past her with the word maintenance on his lips, leaving Scott to his miserable fate of housecleaning alone.

Or with two other little brothers who were equally reluctant, and Grandma expected him to corral because he was the eldest and they – apparently – listened to him.

They didn't. Not when it came to cleaning. If he had Virgil on his side, then maybe he'd be able to nudge the two teenagers into doing the cleaning properly, but Virgil had pulled the betrayal of being the favourite grandson and abandoned him.

There was never any apology, either. Nothing sincere; anything Virgil might say later had that glint of mischief in warm brown eyes and tang of amusement in his voice. It didn't matter that Virgil was, in many respects, his closest brother and staunchest support – he was still a little brother, and Scott had been the eldest long enough to know that one of the rules of being a little brother was to be as much of a nuisance as was feasibly possible to older brothers.

Virgil, despite everything else, was not an exception to this rule.

Day Six of Earth&Sky Week on tumblr, this time (loosely) following the prompt 'BUSTED!' and a hint of the 'Mom' part of 'Mom and Dad'. I had a lot of trouble with this one, and thanks goes to flyboytracy for listening to me whine until I whined myself into something that worked!

Thanks for reading!
Tsari