(a/n: The following are a series of oneshots/character sketches based off tumblr user alloftheprompts's prompt set#781. The first two chapters are a bit sketchy and will endure rewrites at some point; if you're looking for something with a bit more going on, I suggest skipping over to the Hunk and Keith chapters.

That said, enjoy!)

We were only talking.

(Lance)

Lance tried not to fidget. He had a good, strong, devil-may-care stance going on right now that fidgeting would just ruin and he couldn't have that. Arms folded tight behind his back, feet planted firmly apart and chin up for a cool-as-ice stare, he stood his ground and bore the sharp reprimanding that he was 100% sure he didn't deserve.

Play the big man, don't say anything.

"Got anything to say for yourself, McClain?"

They always had to ask, didn't they?

"No, sir," Lance said. His reprimander - a flight instructor - turned on his heel. " - except that I totally would have made that jump if you didn't interrupt me," he continued, and a chorus of groans welled up from behind him. Offended, he turned on the lineup of his classmates and insisted, "What! I WOULD have!"

"Lance..." One of the trainees was giving him a panicked look, gesturing for him to stop. Lance ignored him and faced front. The flight instructor had a look on his face that Lance was familiar with - a mix of frustration, weariness and irritation.

"I interrupted because you were arguing with your co-pilot," said the instructor. To his credit, he actually sounded like he was willing to humor Lance.

"Huh? No, we were just talking," Lance said, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"You made Morales cry, McClain."

"I wasn't crying!" interjected Morales' suspiciously tearful voice from somewhere behind the student lineup.

Lance grinned and opened his arms, palm up. "See? It was probably just dust. Ain't that right, Morales?"

"Shut up, McClain! We are not on speaking terms anymore!"

Lance winced and the instructor cleared his throat.

"Be that as it may..." The senior officer leveled a stern expression at him, and Lance tried to convince himself that it didn't make his confidence drop a bit. "You know very well that this was an exercise in cooperation, not flight acrobatics -"

"Like hell it wasn't, Sir! That terrain was rough !"

"- and you were supposed to get through it with your co-pilot - "

"Yeah, that's why we were talking - "

"Morales was talking." The instructor snapped. "You were shooting your mouth off and doing your own thing, which need I point out not only caused you to demoralize your partner, McClain, it cost you your entire. Mission."

His self-satisfied smirk wilted, despite his best efforts to keep face. By the end of the reprimand, his gaze had dropped to the ground, to a point somewhere between his feet.

"You have to know that this sort of behavior isn't doing you any favors. I hear you wanted to be a fighter pilot - " Lance tensed over that, over the way the other trainees behind him whispered and laughed in not-so-flattering ways. " - well, can't say I don't respect that. By all means, aspire - maybe you'll get there in a couple of years; really, it's all up to you. What I can't forgive, though, is this attitude of yours. You lookin' down on cargo, boy? Well, wake up. Right now, it's what you are. And if you can't accept that, then maybe you ought to just wash out and do something else with your life instead of stickin' around here and wasting my goddamn time. "

As far as "I am disappointed in your lack of commitment" speeches went, Lance felt this one deserved a 9. Well, maybe that was too generous - an 8, then. This particular flight instructor was an okay guy. He wasn't a big name pilot, nobody Lance wanted to impress, but he had been more patience than most. Lance never could get along with straight-laced, by the book types, so he knew what to watch for before that wall of patience would come crumbling down.

The reprimanding finally came to an end on a stern but somewhat resigned note:

"You're not taking any more simulator tests until the next week rolls in, got that?"

Lance gritted his teeth. Concentrated - again - on not fidgeting. His palms were way too dry.

"I said got that, Cadet?"

"Loud n' clear, Sir," he managed to bite out.