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“Jill?”
“Huh?” She straightens up, rubbing sweat off her forehead with her forearm and smearing more grease onto it at the same time. “Oh, Mist, it's you. I didn't think anybody would be around right now.”
Her voice floats away amidst the silence of the hangar; everyone else is at the cafeteria, chowing down after a long day. The few lights still on illuminate Jill's sweaty face, as well as the pile of rubbish that used to be armor plates at her feet. Her body's halfway through the maintenance opening, one hand still holding a wrench.
“What're you doing here? You gotta eat something after the last battle, y'know. Well, it was Boyd's turn to cook, so I can see why you might want to skip out...” Mist grabs the clean towel behind her and bends down, dabbing at Jill's face. “Geez, you're covered in soot. C'mon, let's go. You can finish this after dinner.”
“I'll eat in a bit. A sniper unit shot me last battle... My armor and some of the pipes on the inside got damaged.” Jill jerks the wrench back on a replacement pipe part, sighing through her nose. “I thought it was just going to be a standard repair, but it's a lot harder than I thought it'd be...”
Mist's gaze switches from the half-repaired ship to Jill's hands, coated in grime, and her decision comes easily. She ties her hair back in a quick stub of a ponytail and pulls on her gloves before kneeling down next to her.
“Aren't you going to go eat?” Jill voices a token protest, but she does nothing to stop her when Mist reaches out to hold the pipe steady.
“You're not going to come eat with us until you're done here, are you? At least let me help you.” She tugs on the newly-repaired pipe. It holds firm.
“But... I'm almost done, you know. And you're going to get your shirt dirty.”
“Hey, you're not complaining about the soot on yours.” Mist surveys the inside of the ship, eyes squinting through the dim light; one more that she can see hangs open. “Don't worry, I repair everybody's ships here all the time! I know how to do this stuff.”
“Well... all right then. I guess it's nice to have some company,” Jill says in a strained voice as she yanks the wrench back again. “In that case, would you mind working on the pipe on the left side while I finish putting this one in place?”
“Okay!” Mist backs out for the other wrenches in the toolbox before scooting back in on the opposite side. She squeezes a replacement pipe part between the undamaged ones.
While she's screwing the union back on with the wrench, her eyes wander through the inner workings of the ship. Now that she looks, the thermal pipe is in a strange part of the ship—just around the back of the wings, rather than further back in the middle like on Ike and Titania's ships.
“This is a weird place to put the thermal pipe, don't you think?” Mist speaks up while pushing on the pipe. It doesn't seem like it'll fall out, so she backs up, reaching for the armor plates to close the ship up. “Do Daein ships usually have their thermal pipes around the wings of their ships?”
“Let's just put the armor on for now. We can weld it to the ship it later.” Jill shuts the maintenance door. “I don't know about normal Daein ships... but the Wyvern models do. The engine is more powerful, so the ship runs faster. But it's much bigger too, so the thermal pipe has to be rerouted here. That's why any sniper who knows their stuff will aim behind our wings every time they see one of us. It's a tough spot to hit for normal ships, though.”
“Huh... Well, you win some, you lose some, right? I'll tell Ike to watch out for snipers in battle for you.” Mist leaves the outermost layer of armor in a pile on the ground; Rhys will help them meld it to the main armor plate later. She's not allowed to use the welding machine just yet. “There, I think we're all done.”
“Wait, there's something on your head.” Jill dusts off her forehead with a clean corner of the towel. “Well, we're both covered in grease now.”
“We match now, tee hee.” There might be a weird stain on this shirt for a bit, but that's fairly low on her list of priorities. “Hey, let's go wash off before we eat.”
She pulls off her gloves and dumps the rest of her stuff in the toolbox; she can wash the gloves later, after dinner, but right now she can hear Jill's stomach rumbling. Boyd's cooking is worse than hers, but meat pies are good no matter who makes them. Hopefully Ike will have saved a few slices for the two of them. If not, she can always go for an encore of Mist's Magical Meatloaf.
“Thanks,” Jill mumbles finally, when they're halfway out of the hangar. “I never ask you to help me, but you always do it anyways.”
“Well, that's what friends are for.” Mist hesitates for just one second—then she reaches for Jill's hand. It's sweaty and still covered with muck. She finds that she doesn't mind that one bit.
Her face is turned away, so Mist can't see her expression. But she can guess how it looks anyways.
“After dinner, or maybe sometime tomorrow... I have to test if it runs okay before the next battle,” Jill mumbles. She pauses. “Want to come with?”
Her hand radiates warmth. Mist squeezes it gently.
“Yes, I'd like that,” she replies.