who; Gabriel Gray & Luke Skywalker. where; Hyperion Hotel. when; Afternoonish. summary; Fixing Luke's hand! He likes having it working. Also.. this is assuming that they never took Luke out of the security system. rating; Probably PG. I mean.. it's Luke and Gabriel, and they're both pretty mild most of the time. summary; In progress.
It had been a while since he'd stepped foot in the Hyperion--weeks for him, months for those in Los Angeles--so being back made him feel oddly homesick. He knew all the steps through the lobby and the hotel itself, up to his room and inside. Nothing had been touched; all of his projects and his belongings were exactly in the same places he'd left them. It was.. home.
Not allowing himself to think too much about that, Luke found the toolbelt his younger self had kept, riffling through it for the small packet of delicate tools he used for fine work--like his hand--tucking it away and setting the belt back down. It was back down the stairs again, then, toward Gabriel's domain. The other man likely already knew he was there, of course; he monitored the security system, so he probably always knew who came and went.
He'd always rather liked the quiet man. Probably at least in part because he was so quiet, both physically and mentally. And.. well.. probably also because he'd had particular difficulty being trusted, at first, because of something his future self would (or maybe wouldn't) do.
He could understand.
"Gabriel?" he inquired mildly as he approached, himself a small, slim, entirely unassuming man in jeans, a tshirt, and jacket, blond hair in his face and making his already young features oddly boyish. "I brought the tools we'll need," he added, and smiled, the expression friendly and grateful. "It's delicate work, but then-- you're used to that sort of thing, so I suppose I don't really need to tell you."