Iroh had just set their evening's ration packets to boil over the fire when he heard Asami call to him.
"Can I borrow you, General?"
They had stopped a little earlier than usual after Asami had claimed she heard a rattling noise somewhere inside the plane. It was still light out, and the setting sun cast long shadows across the field where they had decided to camp for the night.
Iroh walked over and found Asami on her back in the soft grass underneath the plane. She had opened some kind of wide panel that led up into the belly of the aircraft, the door of which obscured her face and the upper half of her body. A large metal toolbox sat open a few feet away.
"Sorry," she said, her voice slightly muffled, "it's hard to get in and out of here and most of these things aren't labeled. Can you hand me a hex wrench? Start with the 5/64" and I'll see if it fits." Iroh looked at the open box of tools. There were quite a lot of things that could fit the description of "wrench," but he hadn't the faintest idea what a hex wrench was. If hexa means six… He looked for some kind of six-sided device and settled on a tool with a long metal handle and a cup at the end, the inside of which was machined away into a hexagonal cavity. He placed the handle in Asami's outstretched hand and she pulled it inside. A moment later she peered out over the side of the panel.
"Really?" she said, eyebrows raised. Iroh shrugged and Asami made a dramatic sigh. "This is a socket wrench," she said. "Hex wrenches are little, shaped like an L. The sizes are on the side." Iroh nodded and dug back in the tool box, this time identifying a pack of small, bent bars fitting Asami's description. He pulled out the one with "5/64" engraved on it and handed it over.
"Thanks," she said, and ducked behind the panel door again. He heard a few metallic clangs from inside the plane. As Asami reached for something, her shirt pulled up to reveal a strip of pale stomach that Iroh told himself was not remotely interesting.
"Damn," he heard her hiss, after a moment.
"Everything okay?"
"Actually," Asami said. She popped her head out of the hole again. "Would you mind coming down here? I could use you. Grab the—the small, flat yellow packet in the top right corner of the upper tray." Apparently she no longer trusted that he knew the name of anything in the toolbox. Iroh nodded, found the packet, then dropped to his knees and crawled under the plane. There wasn't a lot of room to maneuver, especially with Asami already there, but he managed to roll onto his back and shimmy over to the open panel. The inside was a dark tangle of wires and metal. It was amazing to him that Asami had any idea what she was looking at, let alone the ability to troubleshoot something in particular.
"Okay," she said. "I fixed that rattling noise, but we have another problem. There was a bad batch of thermoplastic a while ago, and some of it must have gone into this prototype. We never caught it because the unit didn't get a lot of flight time, but with all the travel this week it's cracking a bit. Here." Asami clicked on her portable light and illuminated a small crack in the otherwise smooth surface of some kind of box. "Give me the patches," she said. Iroh handed over the yellow packet and Asami tore it open. "These are technically for sealing holes in the tires, but they should work on the crack as well." She looked at him. "I'll need you to firebend it on."
"What?"
"It's not enough to simply stick it," she said. "I need a stronger bond here. Normally I'd use a heat sealer, but…" She attempted a shrug in the small space. "Just do what you do with the teacups, only while holding the patch on."
Iroh took the patch as Asami scooted out of the way. He reached his arm up into the belly of the plane and, palm first, applied the little square to the crack. Then he concentrated, willing the fire into his hand but maintaining enough control so he wouldn't burn it. This was probably a very bad place to start a fire. Iroh held his hand there, maintaining pressure for another few seconds, then moved away. The patch was neatly melted onto the box.
"Perfect!" Asami said. Iroh turned his head and saw her face was only inches from his. "You really come in handy."
"Glad that I can finally pull my weight," he said. Asami smiled. He was suddenly very aware of how close her body was in the confined space, stretched out next to him on the soft grass. There was a small smear of grease on one side of her nose. Iroh resisted the urge to wipe it off.
"If you're feeling grateful, maybe it's time to feed your hungry pilot. Food almost ready?" Iroh sat up fast, promptly hit his head on the underside of the plane, and swore. He'd completely forgotten that he'd left their dinner boiling on the fire.
Asami propped herself up on one elbow, looking both concerned and amused. "You all right?"
"Fine," he grimaced, holding one hand to his throbbing forehead. "And yes, the food should be ready any time." Asami nodded, frowning slightly as Iroh scooted out from under the airplane. He jogged over the fire and removed the cooking tin; thankfully nothing had burnt, though it had been close. He heard the panel on the belly of the plane slam closed behind him.
Asami plopped down heavily in the grass across the fire. "I'm starving," she said. "What have you got for me?" Some of her hair had come loose from her ponytail, which was also flecked with grass. Iroh saw the grease spot was still on her nose.
"It's a special surprise," he said, handing her a plate. "You'll never guess." Asami wrinkled her nose, but took the plate anyway. Iroh slowly massaged his forehead, troubled. A few days ago he'd thought he could certainly do worse for a pilot than a pretty girl with common sense. And when he'd asked to borrow a plane, he'd had no idea everything that went into its daily maintenance. If he was honest with himself, he didn't think he would have made it even this far without Asami's help, let alone all the way south.
But in other ways, he wasn't so sure now that bringing her had been the best idea. The issue was, upon further reflection, Asami Sato was far more than just pretty. Even with her hair full of grass and her nose smeared with grease he thought she was stunning. She was incredibly smart, too; and not just book smart either. In his experience, this was a particularly problematic combination for him. Thinking men and women were as uncommon in the Forces as they were in the Fire Nation royal palace, and sharing his evenings with someone like Asami had become a real pleasure in more ways than one. While there was nothing wrong with that, her presence was clearly becoming distracting. And that could land him in far more trouble than burning dinner.
As they ate, Iroh tried to put it all out of his mind. Whatever he might think now, Asami was the pilot he had, and he was going to have to make that work for at least another week. Anything else he might have started to consider would simply have to wait.