Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

Sicktember Prompt 7: Sneaky Temperature Check, with Grandma and any character (requested by janetm74)

Virgil was long-used to siblings hiding whenever they weren't fully healthy. Even Gordon, for all that he took his back seriously, would happily pretend he was fine in the majority of situations that didn't involve his back. Scott was the worst of the lot, and completely willing to lie straight to Virgil's face despite piling evidence to the contrary, and Alan was clearly trying to take his cues from their biggest brother, although thankfully Virgil had enough big brother clout himself to put a stop to it before it got too far. John seemed to think that being off the planet meant he could pretend he was fine even when he wasn't – and thank goodness for EOS, because John had admittedly been hard to catch if he still had his wits about him until she started reporting on him – and Kayo bulldozed her way through as many ailments as she possibly could, with a large dose of self-medicating that she did, admittedly, know how to do.

This meant he knew the signs when he saw them. Slightly uncharacteristic behaviour, more sluggish as they moved around the villa, staying still for longer than a few minutes at a time.

Virgil definitely knew the signs, but in this case, a little more finesse was required. His brothers he could strong-arm into the infirmary if necessary – the benefit of being the strongest, even if he wasn't the eldest or the tallest – and while Kayo was somewhat more slippery, he could always corner her eventually. This time, however, it was not a sibling. In fact, in comparison his siblings were wonderfully compliant.

Anyone who thought the Tracy Stubbornness was merely hereditary had clearly never met the women who married into the line. Mom had been a force to reckon with, even if she hadn't showed that side so much to her sons beyond making sure they grew up into respectable people. To people who had had things to say about an effectively-single mother of five, or were perceived as threats to her family, she had been, well.

There was a lot more of her in Scott than most people realised, Scott included.

Go back one more generation and then there was Sally Tracy, nee Farmer. If Mom had been a force to be reckoned with, then Grandma was simply a force of nature. Tough as nails, and having lived through turbulent times Virgil only knew of through history books and anecdotes, there was very little that fazed her, and even less that she actually let on. She was also extremely adamant that her role in both their family and International Rescue was to look after them, and not the other way around.

So when Virgil saw the classic not-one-hundred-percent signs blaring out from his grandmother, he knew that he had to tread very carefully, or else he'd be facing a stubbornness that not even Scott could match. That would help no-one, and least of all Grandma. For all her toughness, they were all keenly aware that she wasn't getting any younger, and MAX had already been subtly deployed to take over some of her less-preferred responsibilities – and some of the cooking.

The key would be in the approach, both literal and verbal, so as much as it galled Virgil not to act immediately, he sat back and waited for an opportunity. The kitchen, for example, was a terrible place to even consider it – not only did it put his stomach at risk of its own peril, but Grandma was well aware that none of them would go near the kitchen if she was in it, unless the cooker was on fire, again, and an extinguisher was required.

A willing approach would get her suspicions up immediately, and that was no good, so Virgil squished down his instinct to confront her and waited.

One batch of charred cookies later, and his opportunity dawned. Instead of turning to the next item on her list of things to do – most of which involved chores the rest of them simply didn't have time to help out with more often than not – he saw her move outside and settle in one of the loungers, well-worn paper book in hand. From the den, he couldn't tell what the book was, but he could probably narrow it down with reasonable accuracy based on her preferred literature.

Mothers had eyes in the back of their head, and Grandmothers must have several pairs, as well as ears in every room, because getting away with anything while Grandma was in the vicinity was a hard no. Still, Virgil was on a mission, and this was the best opportunity he was going to get, so he collected a sketchbook and pencil, then headed down to the poolside himself.

"Come to join me?" Grandma asked as soon as he stepped out onto the patio, not looking up from her book. Virgil had made the mistake of trying to read Fifty Shades of Grey once, and had no plans to ever do so again, but Grandma seemed to adore it – a somewhat disturbing fact if he thought about it for too long.

Brain bleach. Brain bleach.

"If you don't mind," he replied, not bothering to hide his approach. It would be more suspicious if she thought he was sneaking around.

"Of course not," she said. "Now, what are you up to?"

He froze for a split second, thinking he was caught, before realising she probably just wanted to know what he was planning on doing.

"Figured I'd do some sketching out here while it's quiet and Gordon-free," he offered. She laughed lightly, still not looking away from the book, and Virgil took his chance.

A hand caught his wrist before he could make contact.

"Nice try, kid," Grandma chuckled again, and blue eyes finally looked away from the book to meet his. "You're a good sixty years too young to even think about pulling one over on me."

Virgil sighed, dejected and knowing when he was beaten. "Please?"

"And what makes you think you need to check my temperature in the first place?" she asked him, not releasing her grip. He could overpower her with ease, but… it was Grandma. He left his hand in her captivity.

Registering her question, he immediately rattled off his observations. Fifty Shade of Grey was set down and a gentle hand patted his arm in response.

"I'm not one of your siblings, dear," she reminded him. "You don't have to run interference on me. I can look after myself a little while longer yet."

"You're still family," he insisted, and she gave him a fond smile.

"That I am," she said, "but I'm a grandmother that looks after my grandchildren, not the other way around, and I'm not quite ready to give that up completely, so let an old woman have this."

"But-"

"It's just my joints playing up," she admitted, although it somehow sounded more like an assurance than a confession. "I've taken all my meds and it'll pass in a few days." His hand was pulled forwards until it made contact with her forehead. "See? My temperature is perfectly normal."

Unsurprisingly, she was right, and Virgil gently reclaimed his hand with a sigh, sitting down somewhat heavily on the lounger next to hers.

"Now, do me a favour and don't tell those brothers of yours," she said brusquely, reaching across and patting his hand. "They don't need to be worrying about things they can't control."

"But they're family, Grandma," he protested weakly, already knowing that he was going to do exactly as she asked. "Family worry about each other."

"Don't you go turning my words back on me, young man," she scolded, a twinkle in her eye that told him that she wasn't annoyed. "There's nothing to be done about a little bit of old age, so save that concern of yours for your reckless siblings a while longer and let me have this while I can."

While I can. The words nestled unpleasantly in his gut, a reminder that Grandma was in her twilight years and, despite not letting on most of the time, was well aware of it. One day, and one day soon, she really would need their help, and there would come a time when she wasn't around at all.

Without thinking, Virgil leaned forwards and wrapped his arms around his grandmother – small, physically on the frail side, but so, so strong inside. She let out a small noise of surprise, before relaxing in his arms and wrapping her own around him in turn.

"Don't you go worrying about that just yet, Virgil," she told him gently. "There's plenty of life in this girl yet."

If her voice wavered a little, and her fingers fisted in his flannel a little too tightly, Virgil chose not to notice.

If he was honest with himself, he wasn't ready for the day they were the ones looking after her anyway.

As soon as I started thinking about this one, I knew I wanted to flip things around a bit and have Grandma be the one on the receiving end of the caretaking, and then Virgil tapped on my shoulder and reminded me who the other family medic is... and so here we are with a little Virgil&Grandma fic :D It should be noted that I've spent a lot of time with my own grandmother over the past two days for the first time in a year and that's definitely had an influence on this, particularly near the end where it gets slightly melancholy.

I'm dabbling in Sicktember over on tumblr! Only doing prompts that I get a character request for, so feel free to drop by with a request. You can find the list on the sicktember tumblr blog!

Thanks for reading!
Tsari