Vader was enraged, his emotions just as gruesome as the permanent facial expression of his mask, while he embarked on a search for his unruly male spawn.
After the chaotic scene that was the refresher, he had unsuccessfully attempted to wipe Leia's vomit off his face mask and suit. He eventually had to go through a painstakingly thorough, oxygen-controlled shower, all the while muttering "don't make me kill you"s under his breath.
Meanwhile, Padmé took it upon her ill self to wash Leia and put her to sleep before preparing lunch and giving her husband a lecture. She emphasized that children needed patience, care and -er-positive attention. While he listened in a neutral state of boredom, he blatedly realized that his son was missing. After that, he also realized that his son had run away of his own accord amongst the chaos.
As per usual, his wrath was expressed in an extremely brief "don't make me kill you" episode.
In a frenzy, the mad Sith rushed out of the room impulsively and reached out with his Force senses. Luke, he thought, come back...it is useless to resist! You know you want your mother's wookiee-ookies. I mean, they have got chocolate. What more can I say?
The father's bond with his son was strong enough to sense the profusely negative reply. Luke was such a troublemaker. A real Rebel, some might say. Or maybe it was just in his genes. But the stubborn defiance against rules definitely came from his mother's side.
Yet it was all Darth needed to instigate a hallway search. Vader loped slowly into the hallway of the large building and cooed (as best as he could, considering the respirtor and face mask), "Luke! Luke! Don't make Father kill you! You must come out now for sweets and sleep!"
The "cooing" was partly effective, judging from the ecstatic giggles of a nearby table. "Ha!" The Sith closed in on the fixture as if it were another military target. "I've got you now!"
Luke was awkwardly naked, but he waddled down the hall, his body jiggling from the odd sensations of walking. Vader could have levitated his son back to him with ease, but Luke needed to be taught some discipline; needed to be able to return of his own accord, and to be respectful. "Luke! I am your father, don't make me destroy you! Accept your destiny!"
Luke ceased his vigorous waddling, to turn and face the aforementioned Darth. "Luke! Join me, and we can rule the galaxy together as father and son! It is your destiny! Come to the Dark Side! We've got fresh wookiee-ookies!"
Luke persistently shook his head and his blue eyes widened. "Luke! I am your father! It is your destiny! Don't make me kill you!"
At this Luke spun around, and broke into a full-blown crawl across the hall. Seeing his melodramatic plan botched, Vader resumed plan B and used the Force to his conventional advantage. Ah, the bliss of raising children.
Padmé took the last batch of wookiee-ookies from the baker, set the dishes aside for later, and washed her hands. She heard the hiss from the door of their apartment, indicating that Luke had been found, and that her husband would have the responsibility of putting him to bed for an afternoon kip.
She smiled at the ridiculous image of the father and son, happy to find a semi-peaceful moment after eight months of pure stress. Keeping her family environment peaceful was worse than politics. Padmé, overcome with the urge to leave the twins in the hands of her husband, felt a certain magnetism to reach for her speeder keys. Getting away for a while would be good for her.
Once the black cape vanished behind another corridor, Padmé grabbed her bag and left before anything could be said.