A/N Sorry about my slowness in getting back to this. I'm currently 7+ months pregnant and I suddenly had a overwhelming horror of all things baby (do you get prepartum depression?). Anyways, over it now and back to looking forward to pukey babies and wet nappies. So please forgive.

T.

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Iruka watched the last of his class scurry out of the classroom door. They had moved so fast when he dismissed them that he could almost believe that the cloud of dust they left in their wake was chakra smoke. Soon enough it would be. It gave him a warm glow inside knowing how many of his former students had already surpassed him. He snatched up his folders of papers, grabbed the daisy Moegi had given him, the rose Hanabi had given him to give to Kakashi, he'd have to watch out for that kid she was clever and cute, and strolled down the hall.

After Keshi had been successfully snatched from the village nursery, her two fathers hadn't been the only ones to demand better security. In fact all the village shinobi had demanded it, loudly. And the solution had been so simple and obvious that it was a wonder no one had considered it before.

Originally the nursery had been relocated to the ninja academy as a simple matter of necessity. Its former building was all but destroyed and there were still, regrettably, unused rooms at the academy. Konoha's population still hadn't fully recovered from the kyuubi attack fifteen years before. The beneficial side effect of its new location, that the village babies were now surrounded by the protective force of all the chuunin academy instructors, the handful of jounin education specialists, and dozens of eager pre-gennins, didn't dawn on anyone until after the fact.

For Iruka it was a Godsend. Not only could he now check up on his daughter whenever he wanted to (every ten minutes for the first few weeks, but now no more than two or three times a day), but the pure convenience of on-site childcare was unbeatable. He opened the playroom door carefully, knowing that she would be waiting just inside. She always crawled over to the door to meet him at the end of the school day, no doubt tipped off by the thunder of feet stampeding out of the building. Clearly she hadn't inherited her other father's unfortunate… indifference to punctuality.

Kashi was seated just inside, a bundle of pink topped by fluffy white spikes. She held her arms stretched towards him, fingers spread and palms thrust forward, in a silent demand to be picked up. Iruka put his small burdens on the table to write his name in the sign-out book, then swept her into his arms and spun her around before hugging her to his chest.

"I'd be a little careful shaking her up too much if I were you Umino-san."

He turned to face the stern teenaged girl on parent pick-up duty. "Oh?"

The girl pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "She's been a bit fussy this afternoon, and there's still that nasty bug going round."

Iruka held his child at arms length and was rewarded by a happy gurgle and a wide wet grin displaying both her teeth. "Really, she seemed okay at lunchtime?"

"Well just FYI, she didn't want her bottle this afternoon and she was cranky at naptime too."

Iruka scrunched his face to deepen his scar as Kashi reached out to touch it, then kissed her forehead and draped her against his shoulder with practiced ease as he retrieved the rest of his stuff. "Thanks for the heads up Ami-chan, I suppose we'll just have to hope for the best."

But the girl wasn't paying attention, she was busy fishing inside the mouth of another of her charges, trying to retrieve whatever fascinating thing it was he'd found on the floor.

Since one hand was full of baby and the other held his flowers, and he had folders tucked under his arm, he unlatched the door with his elbow and backed into it. Suddenly it was pulled open.

"Let me help you out with that."

Even white teeth, senbon twitching between them, stared at him around the door.

"Er thank you Genma-san, she is getting to be quite a handful."

The special jounin fell into step beside him. "Still playing the single parent?"

"Yeah well, we knew they'd be times like this when we took her on, I'm just lucky I don't get sent out too often."

The senbon twitched wildly. "That's what I keep telling Raidou. You two can handle kids because you get to stay in the village. So when's the old dog expected back?"

One glance at Iruka's face made him bite his tongue, Iruka didn't know. So it was one of those missions.

Iruka swallowed hard, mentally kicking himself at his lack of discretion before answering brightly, "Soon I hope, it's been three weeks now."

A long beat passed between them, they both knew what that meant. There were no three week special missions. There were short ones, a few days travel each way at most and a day or two to get the job done. And there were long ones. Weeks or months spent deep under cover, hiding out in the hills, living on roots and wildlife.

A three week mission was a two week mission gone wrong.

Genma held open the main door to let him through, then, after a moment's hesitation, patted his shoulder. "He'll be fine. He may be soft enough around you and the kid Sensei, but Kakashi's a tough old bastard. Whatever it is he can handle it."

Iruka flashed his eyes to meet the other man's, which were way too piercing and intense. He hoped his voice sounded less shaky than it felt. "Course. Sharigan Hatake, the famous copy ninja, he can handle anything."

Genma's face softened. "Got that right, he's survived living with you this long without you killing him. And now with the kid too…"

He cuffed Iruka's arm again playfully before going on his way. "Hang in there kiddo."

Iruka pulled Keshi a little tighter against him. Just how had he ever survived these long lonely evenings without her?

Iruka had only just cleaned up after their simple meal when it became clear that this evening, at least, would not be dull. He was holding Keshi and dragging her playpen from the kitchen to the living room, so that he could grade papers more comfortably without her crawling out of sight, when she barfed rice cereal all over him. So the girl at the nursery had been right after all. Taking care not to jostle her more, he took her back to the kitchen and started to fill the sink with warm water to bathe her, while he removed her clothes and his shirt and dropped them straight in the washing machine.

Once she was clean and redressed he laid her in her crib, with a bundled blanket to stop her from rolling onto her stomach, and turned his attention to cleaning himself. Showered and wearing fresh sweats, he returned with a bottle of hydration fluid to find her whimpering piteously, and her bed soaked in vomit. Without missing a beat he repeated the whole process… from the beginning.

Eight hours later he was reduced to wearing tee shirts and underwear, and using large bath towels as crib sheets. Keshi was crying more loudly now, as if the pain in her belly was more intense. Iruka was used to dealing with people in pain, even children, but seeing his child in so much distress was almost more than he could bear. He tried his best to comfort her by walking her back and forth, swaying gently. At least that way she relaxed and slept a little between attacks, but that could have just been from exhaustion.

He resisted the temptation to take her to bed with him, although he was exhausted too. He was still a practical man, and his bed sheets were harder to wash, and there was no plastic cover on his mattress. So he did the best he could, cursing his luck that their child would get sick when he was the only one home to deal with it. And when he was already stressed and sleep deprived from the more familiar worries associated with being Sharigan Hatake's significant other. It had already been a very long night and there were still many hours before dawn.

Kakashi slipped in through the window unseen, as if he'd forgotten that normal people had doors for a reason. Iruka turned to see him standing in the middle of the room, still in mission mode, more shadow than flesh. The jounin flinched slightly under the directness of his lover's gaze, as if it stung. Iruka raked his eyes over him, automatically checking for damage. But the relief that was trying to wash over him was abruptly dammed back when Kakashi pulled down his mask and smiled. There was no warmth in that smile.

Iruka sought, and met, his eye, and was shocked even in his current state of half-stupor, to find it glacier cold. The same icy blue as when he'd first come to know him, when Naruto was first made part of his team, ice that was just a visible reflection of the layers that had formed a protective glacier around Kakashi's heart. It had taken Iruka more than a year and a half to melt through that frost and find the gold beneath.

"Kakashi! You okay?"

At that moment Keshi woke from her half slumber on Iruka's shoulder with a piteous sob, to spill a fresh stream of foamy vomit down his shirt. Shit what timing.

Kakashi's pale mouth twitched up at the corners, but this time not even enough to count as a smile. He looked away, knowing that he should do something, help somehow. But the pathetic domesticity of the scene sent physical pain shooting through him, like the cut of a sharp hot wire. "Sorry, I'd offer to take over here, but I'm pretty much all in. I'll just take a shower and go to bed out of your way."

Iruka's eyes narrowed, taking in the infinitesimal change in the slope of Kakashi's shoulders and in the angle of his neck, turning his habitual slouch into a droop. "Like hell you will Hatake. Now just sit down and shut up while I get us both cleaned up again, and wait your fucking turn."

He stomped into the kitchen, stripped off Keshi's sleeper and his tee shirt and threw them onto the pungent pile of bedclothes and sheets next to the washing machine. There wouldn't be enough hot water to do another load, it would have to wait. Then he wiped her off with a warm damp towel and propped her on his shoulder while he mixed a bottle of water with salts and glucose. Finally, when she was redressed, rehydrated, and back in her crib, he turned his attention to the silent man poised on the edge of the pink rocking chair like a trapped wild animal.

Studiously avoiding the feral look in his eye, he pulled Kakashi to his feet and gently started to strip him of his battle gear and uniform. He carefully checked for damage as he went, in what had long since become a familiar ritual. Not that he really expected to find any. He knew only too well that Kakashi's current wounds were to his soul, not his body. But his gentle methodical tracing of fingers over skin served to comfort them both.

That done he stepped out of his boxers, the only garment he was still wearing, and led his partner to the bathroom. He'd already used most of the hot water, but he knew that wasn't the kind of heat his lover needed from him right now. And there should just be enough left to get rid of the grime.

It wasn't until he had been thoroughly shampooed and scrubbed clean that Kakashi spoke again, his flat voice sounding even more hollow in the confines of the shower.

"Just hold me for a while Ruka, make me feel wanted."

Iruka snorted, pulling him close, as cooling water poured over them. "Anyone with a pulse would want you Kakashi. I love you, and don't you dare let that thought get away from you again."

The jounin let himself be held, relaxing into the other man's strong arms, feeling his lean muscular body supporting him. He didn't answer, and they both knew why. In the field he was an emotionless tool, unloving and unloved. Only here, with this man, and with their child, could he afford the luxury of being truly human again. Iruka felt the curve of Kakashi's lips against the tender skin at the crook of his neck, and he knew that despite the almost cold water the ice was melting. Kakashi still wasn't okay, but he would be.

They were at the kitchen table, dried, wrapped in their warm robes, and with Kakashi eating instant ramen, when a strangled cry and the sound of retching summoned Iruka back to the living room.

He kissed Kakashi's forehead, feeling the tickle of his still damp hair. "Go to bed when you're finished, don't worry about the dishes, I'll join you as soon as I can."

Kakashi twirled some noodles around his chopsticks and watched them steam. Comfort food, quick and hot but poor nourishment, like the comfort sex he had once sought out after this kind of mission. That was then. Now he had Iruka, home, family, love. There were two flowers in a glass jar on the table. One reminded him of Iruka, a red rose just starting to relax and uncurl from its tight bud, beautiful, if you could get past the thorns. The other was a wilted daisy that had already dropped most of its white petals onto the pale wood. Suddenly he felt unbearably tired.

He picked up his bowl and drank down the remaining noodles and broth, then stumbled into the bedroom and blissful oblivion.

When Kakashi woke the smell of vomit was gone, replaced by disinfectant, and the washing machine was chugging noisily in the kitchen. The bed beside him was slightly rumpled but quite cold.

Iruka came into the bedroom, already dressed and with his hair neatly tied up. He had his folders and a sheaf of papers tucked under one arm. Obviously he had been waiting for him to wake up before he left for work.

"Can you cope on your own today? I'd stay home but we had four teachers out yesterday and…"

Kakashi noted the bruise dark circles under Iruka's eyes, the man had obviously had a brutal night, and he hadn't helped any coming home in the middle of everything. But he knew that wasn't enough to keep him away from his duties at the academy, the man was still a ninja. "Iruka, I'm fine. Well tired, but I can handle one sick baby."

Iruka sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his lover's alabaster cheek with the back of a hand. Noting how the stubbled skin was stretched thin over the delicate framework of his bones, and the fine lines of tension around his shadowed eyes. It was a lie, he was far from fine and they both knew it. But maybe the human tenderness of taking care of his child was exactly what he needed.

"With any luck she'll sleep most of the day but I've mixed up some bottles of water and left them on the counter just in case. Most of the kids are getting over this in a day or so. She'll be hungry but don't try giving her any formula until she's been able to keep fluid in her stomach for a few hours at least. Trust me, you'll regret it if you do. Two words… projectile vomit."

"Projectile…?"

Iruka flashed a wicked grin before darting away and out of the door. Sharigan Hatake, the famous copy ninja. He could handle anything, right?

"You heard me."