A/N : Hey guys, I've had this idea forever and the first chapter written for months – And I think it's finally ready! And after all the crazy-ness, I think we could all use this! Apparently Season 7's supposed to floor us, so here's a nice, fun fic to keep us all just a little sane! Thanks so much for reading this, and please review and tell me if you like it or not!
Chapter 1-
Garrison V Prep School has not had a basket-ball team for ten years, this Friday.
This was getting sad.
Lance, having it only being his second year here, had only just started complaining about it. This was his second year here at the Garrison V, as he joined a year late (funnily enough you need to have a green card before you can start applying to fancy schools.) And being the new kid, you really didn't want to start stirring things up. But as an official eleventh grader, basket ball season was getting ready to start up, and he wasn't going to take this laying down.
"Come on, Hunk!" Lance pleaded, as he bugged his friend all the way down the hall.
"Huh, that's funny, as memory would serve I've already said no a hundred times." Hunk replied, swatting off his friend as he continued to poke him.
"Pleeeeeeease!" Lance pleaded.
"One hundred and one." Hunk said.
"What?" Lance asked.
"No!"
Lance sighed deeply, grabbing Hunk's arm and pulling him to the side of the hall, as to avoid the crowd. "Hunk, look. You need at least five players to form a starting line up, and you really think it will do anything for me, walking into Zarkon's office with no players?"
"Lance.." Said Hunk nervously.
"I'll teach you!" he interrupted. "You can get scholarships for this kind of stuff! A picture in the yearbook, girls-"
"Fine!" Hunk grumbled, because the most annoying this about having Lance as a best friend was that he never lets anything go. "I'll do it. But only if you 'recruit' that Keith guy, too." But that didn't mean Hunk couldn't have his fun…
"What?!" Said Lance. "No. No, no, no, no. No way am I asking that hair piece to be on the team!"
"Lance." Hunk reasoned. "He beats you on the courts every day after school-"
"-Not every day-"
"-And he's probably one of the most aggressive students at the Garrison V- he'd make a killer defence. If you even want a chance of getting this thing off the ground, then he's it." Before Lance could argue any more, the bell interrupted them. Hunk's face, having been enjoying distressing his friend, fell. "Now we're going to be late for Miss Altea's class. Great." Hunk said, looking over his shoulder and yelling "Think about it!" As he raced down the hall, not even waiting for his equally tardy friend to catch up.
Lance frowned. Be on a team with him, or have no team at all. Lance watched Keith trudging down the hall and grimaced. That kid had a perpetual mood about him.
"Worth a shot." Lance mumbled.
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The bell rang throughout the school and the campus soon filled with rowdy teenagers. "This is a mistake." Lance said flatly, as they headed to the court.
"Lance." Pressured Hunk, because he wasn't about to let Lance off that easily. And the Cuban boy new that.
"I'm going, I'm going." He said, heading towards the court. He didn't even make it on before the taunting commenced.
"Come to lose again?" Keith smirked as the two approached, chest-passing the ball to Lance and walking across the outdoor cement court. "I'll even stand back here. Then you might have a shot at making it in."
"Funny." Lance remarked at the pun, pacing the ball back. "But this is where our rivalry needs to end." He said dramatically.
"Rivalry?" Keith asked.
"Yeah…" Lance said, dumbfounded. "You know, Lance and Keith, neck and neck?" Lance tried.
"What are you talking about?" Keith said.
Lance sighed. "You know what? This is for another day." He said, taking a deep breath, because they had work to do. "Now I'm gonna get straight to the point with this one, Mullet. I want to get Zarkon to get our school team up and running again, and I need players. You in?"
Keith's eyes met Lance's for a while before he passed the ball to some of the other kids on the court and said "I'll be right back." before finally walking over to the pair. "And what makes you think the 'Emperor's' gonna change his mind after, what has it been, a decade?"
"Student interest." Hunk said matter-of-factly, pulling out a small manual from his bag. "It says here in the student handbook that 'if students show, in accurate numbers that said sport requires, enthusiasm and participation to a physical actively that should not take place during school hours, and have representation/supervision from a willing, suitable and stable couch and faculty member, at said school, management must provide accommodations and playing time for students whom meet the physical and academic requirements.'"
"English?" Asked Keith, with Lance nodding along.
Hunk sighed. "It means that as long as we have enough willing people to join the team, find a couch and a faculty supervisor, Zarkon can't say no!"
"Who have you got so far, then? You need at least five people." Said Keith.
"I know that." Lance said bitterly. "There's me-"
"Not off to a great start." Keith interrupted.
"And Hunk." Lance finished through clenched teeth.
"Do you even know how to play?" Keith asked, addressing the bigger man.
"Oh, running makes me nauseous." Hunk said sheepishly.
"Of course it does." Keith said, rolling his eyes.
"He'll learn." Lance bit out.
"Look," Keith sighed. "I'm just messing with you, relax. Getting to play some real ball ageist other teams could be fun. If you're going to storm into Zarkon's office with some kind of petition, then you can put my name on it."
"Fine." Said Lance, spinning on his heal.
"Thank you is what he means." Smiled Hunk, Keith returning it a bit as the two pals began walking back to the school, Hunk catching up quickly. No time for a pick-up game today, they had work to do.
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"Wait." Lance said as the pair made their way into the Garrison V, walking through the school halls on their way to the dorms. "Why didn't we ask the other guys on the court, too? Man, come to think of it, we could just go down to the gym, the Football kids go out of their minds during dry season! Plus the Track teams gotta wait until the spring for the field to thaw; we could get twenty signatures, no problem! We don't even need Keith!"
"Slow your roll there, buddy. I'm way ahead of you." Hunk said, pulling out his handy dandy rule book. Nerd. "Says here that students can only commit to one sports team a school year, as to not get in the way of Academics."
"That's so dumb! No one's coming to school to learn."
Hunk face-palmed. "How did you manage to get into this school?"
"I dunno, some dingbat even dumber than yours truly dropped out, made way for my awesomeness."
"Small slate." Hunk said, dodging Lance's hand as he ducked into the library.
"Whoa, wait a minute, what are we doing here?" He asked, not stepping foot in the room since orientation. Lance isn't really all too good a being quiet, and that's like, the only rule here.
"Trust me," Hunk whispered, making his way through the rows of books and their quiet readers, Lance in foot. There, at the back of the library was some kid hunched over some book thicker than his glasses, another three piles stacked high on a lonesome table.
"Small person, big mess." Lance laughed, elbowing Hunk to look.
"That guy is who we're here to see." Hunk said.
Lance stopped, smile falling from his face as he looked at the thin kid who came up to his chest. "You're joking." He said dryly, but Hunk was already making his way to the table, Lance sulking behind.
"Hey, Pidge!" Hunk said as loud as he dared, sitting down as the table and pushing some notes over.
"Uh, hi." The kid said quietly, looking over at the guy as Lance carefully placed the heavy book bag on the floor and took its chair. "Hunk, right?" The kid asked.
"Yeah," he answered. "I'm in your Advanced Physics class..and your Young Engineers class, not in your math, though, because you're in the twelve's cores, even though you're what, two grade levels beneath us?"
Lance held back his urge to scream, because not only was this the shortest, scrawniest kid he had ever seen, but Hunk was recruiting a Freshmen.
Pidge starred bewildered at the kid who, up until this minuet, their only interaction had been 'can I borrow a pencil?. "Are you a stalker or something?" The kid said, eyeing Hunk.
"Stalker is a strong word; the only thing I know is that you're here on a scholarship." Hunk once again pulled out his student handbook, that had almost become an extension of his right arm. Its spine was quickly wearing. "Thing is, it says here that all scholarship students must be on at least one extra-curricular activity and sporting team."
"Yup." Said the kid standing up. "You're defiantly stalking me."
"Wait!" Said Hunk said, tone softening. "C'mon, I'm just trying to help you out here, look," He sighed. "I know you're in two clubs hoping it will make up for it, but trust me, I tried the same thing a few years ago and lost mine. Thankfully my mom scrounged up enough money and I got to finish out the term. Me and my buddy, Lance, we're really trying to make up a basket-ball team by Friday. Think about it." He said, standing up from the table and Lance, mesmerized up until this moment, following suit. "Or, there's always football." Hunk shrugged.
They made their way to the door, Lance quiet for once. "Hey, Stalker!" Pidge called. "You… you can put me on your makeshift list." He said quickly, going back to his book as if the interaction had never happened. Though Lance could see he was glancing up as they turned their backs, most likely wondering what the heck he had just gotten himself into. Much like Lance.
Hunk smiled, leaving the library before he would allow Lance to high-five him. Lance cheered, "That's four, baby!" He said, ignoring the fact that two of his maybe-teammates have never played ball before. "Hey, I didn't know you were a scholarship student." Lane said with an awkward cough, thinking of all the times they had walked the halls of the Garrison V and heard students laughing about the brainiac poor kids. Sure he thought they were idiots, but never really thought too much of it. He never shut them up.
Oops..
Hunk shrugged. "My mom was out of a job when I got accepted, she wanted me to start off in Freshmen year just like everybody else, so that way I wouldn't be behind. It's no big deal." Hunk stopped himself, "No offence.." Hunk said, grimacing in realization that Lance had started late.
Lance ignored the weird feeling he got in his stomach that he had just developed. The fact that he hadn't known something like this about his best friend put an uneasy feeling in him. Maybe he did need to listen more. He shook it off-like Hunk said, it was no big deal.
"Never mind that, Hunky Baby-"
"-Never say that again."
"-That's still only four. If we're gonna get this list to Zarkon by Friday, we're gonna need to start thinking, fast." Lance finished.
"Keith'll probably have some names for us." Hunk said.
Lance snorted. "That Hairpiece doesn't have any friends."
"And how many friends do you have again?" Hunk asked, shutting him up because he was talking to him only one right then. "Besides, I used to see him hanging around that Shiro kid all the time."
"Takashi Shirogane?" Lance said in disbelief, "Bull, no way he's cool enough to hang around that guy; I haven't seen them together once. Well, I mean, I guess he's cool enough now." Lance said, laughing a bit.
"Yeah, they don't really hang out anymore. Come to think of it, they seemed to stop around the same time you showed up. I think you're just bad luck." Hunk said slyly.
Lance ignored his comment before asking, "Wait. Keith hung around with Shiro when he was still cool?! You're lying, you've gotta be!"
"Hang on a second." Hunk stopped mid-hallway, getting bumped into by some other boys before moving to the side of the hall by the big window to continue the conversation, Lance following. "We could ask Shiro! He used to be the best sparer in the school, be broke every record-"
"-And his hand." Lance said flatly.
"-And." Hunk said, ignoring him, "He's not on any other sports teams, he perfect!"
"He's not on any other sports teams because no one will take him, Hunk!" Lance said. "We already have got two people on our list who don't even know how to play, and now you want to add on a crip to that equation? Zarkon will laugh us out the door!" His words were harsh but true- but the kid was stressed to the max. No way Lance could afford flight school, a basketball scholarship was his only chance. Feelings don't matter.
"Wow." Hunk said slowly. "For a kid who used to get beat up for his accent you're pretty quick to judge."
Lance stopped, face turning red for a brief second before. Much like that uneasy feeling, he shook it off. "I hate it when you're right." He muttered.
"Then you must despise me." Hunk laughed.
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A/N: Finally posted it! Reviews are love, please tell me if you like!
-Nova Scotia 3
