#shenanigansgalore

Luke was in his element. At least, it had been his element once, and he was determined not to let his lack of dexterity ruin it for him now. The spring air blew gently through the open door of the flight hangar, bringing with it the mingled scents of lilacs and gasoline. An odd combination, but one that never failed to lift his spirits. It was unseasonably warm for the beginning of May, and he was in his shirtsleeves, cuffs rolled up past his elbows to protect them from the grease. A record of lieder played softly from the gramophone in the corner, the soaring tenderness of Schubert's melodic lines soothing his soul as he took a wrench to the new Albatross D. III that he had been commissioned after the demise of his beloved Fokker.

Actually flying it was still a challenge, and the slowness of his recovery irritated the hell out of him, but he could still find solace in the delightful complexities of the new plane's inner workings. The other mechanics on the base had long since abandoned all hope of tuning up his plane. Many of them had attempted, but they invariably resigned in frustration after coping with his anxious observations and persistent questioning of their methods. These days, they mostly left him to his own devices which was, if he was honest, just the way he liked it.

He was so absorbed in his task, lulled to a state of total concentration by the repetitive task and the lieder, that he didn't hear his sister until she spoke from just behind his left elbow.

"It's good to see you working."

He jumped, the wrench dropping from his hand to fall with a metallic thud on the dirt floor of the hangar. Spinning on his heel, he saw Leia grinning at him, hand raised to her mouth to conceal her laughter.

"You startled me," he said lamely, using a rag to wipe ineffectually at the grease on his hands. "I thought you were still in Spa with Ben."

"I was, and I will be. I'm only here for dinner." Leia answered, her laughter subsiding. "I wanted to see you." She hesitated, suddenly seeming at a rare loss for words. "Han told me about the…accident." He saw her eyes stray to his right wrist, still tightly bandaged, then snap abruptly back to his face. "He said you were alright, but…well I just needed to see for myself."

Luke smiled, spreading his arms away from his sides to indicate the entirety of his wiry frame. "And do I pass inspection?"

She came to him then, folding him into an embrace, heedless of the grease and dirt on his shirt. Gently, he wrapped his arms around her. "You could have died, Luke," she whispered. He was shocked to hear that she was crying, a thing he hadn't seen her do since she broke her leg in two places in a riding accident.  Despite himself, Luke was touched. His sister was not a soft woman, in many ways, and they had had their fair share of disagreements growing up, but he had forgotten how close they still were.

"I didn't," he said softly, stroking her back with his good hand in an awkward attempt at comfort.

"I know." she pulled away, wiping at her eyes, "but it was closer than I like." She put a soft hand on his cheek. "You scared me. I thought I'd lost you."

He didn't tell her that she almost had. Even without Herr Dameron's impromptu field amputation, it had been a terrible wound. He was still thankful that he had not been awake to the world when the doctor had taken the saw to his wrist to stop the gangrene from setting in and poisoning his blood. Not to mention the head wound, which had not been insignificant.

Instead, he took her hands in his, laying them over his right wrist. "I am sorry that I frightened you," he said. "I would promise you that I won't do it again, but being a soldier would put that to the lie."

"I know." She looked down at where his hand had been, running her fingers lightly over the bandaging. Her blue eyes slid slowly up to meet his. "But can you promise that you will be careful?"

He raised her hands to his lips, placing a kiss on her soft skin. "I can promise you that."

They were silent for a long moment, standing in the May sunshine, then Leia looked down at her hands and noticed they were covered in grease from holding his. She began to laugh and suddenly they were children again, and she had wandered into their uncle's barn to find him and Han up to their elbows in parts, their faces smeared with dirt, grease, and wide little boy smiles.

"I've never understood your fascination with these kinds of things,” she said, shaking her head as she wiped what he assumed was a smudge from his cheek with her thumb.

"Well, I've always been slightly mad," he replied, smiling in spite of himself.

"I'm sure it has to do with mother dropping you on your head when you were a baby," Leia said matter-of-factly, wiping her own hands on the rag she had taken from his hands. "Shall we go to dinner?"

"Yes, of course. Speaking of children, how is Ben doing?" Luke asked, rolling his sleeves down. When they were buttoned at his wrists, he could put his arm in his pocket, a charade of normalcy which he found kept the men more at their ease in his presence. Leia grimaced.

"He's fourteen and convinced that he should be fighting glorious battles for the Kaiser like his father and uncle," she said drily, "does that answer your question?"

"Well, I suppose," Luke allowed. He offered her his arm, and she looped her hand around his elbow, allowing him to lead her towards the officer's mess. She sighed.

"He's a handful, if I'm being honest. I just…I don't know what's happened to him."

Luke gave a small shrug. "He is going through a difficult time in his life, as we have all done. It is unfortunate for him that he is doing it at a difficult time, and away from his home and his father."

Leia stiffened at his side. "Are you suggesting I should have stayed in Berlin?" she asked sharply.

"Of course not, Leia. All I am suggesting is that this is a hard time to be a young man. He is lucky to have a mother and father who love him."

"I suppose." They walked on in silence for several yards.

"So, did you let him go?" she asked suddenly as they rounded the end of the hangar.

"I beg your pardon?" Luke asked, startled.

"The boy, the one that rescued you. Han said that he escaped?" He could feel her eyes searching his face.

"They were going to shoot him, did Han tell you that?" he asked her, careful to keep her conversational tone.

"Yes, he did. Lucky for him that he escaped when he did, I suppose." She looked over at him, a small smile playing about her lips. When he was silent, a frown grew between her eyes. "It would have been a shame if he had been shot. We owe him a great deal."

Luke looked at her sharply, unsure if she was actually being serious. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek as they reached the door to the mess, pulling back with that same strange smile. "However it happened, I'm glad that he made it out alive." She let go his arm and entered the mess.