In spite of what some said about him, Lance considered himself an extremely empathetic and perceptive person. He had quite a few provocative thoughts, it was just that he never had an opportunity to offer them to the world at large, given that his primary occupation was that of a space-travelling superhero. Battling an intergalactic empire had a nasty habit of precluding intellectual discussion and analysis of the true mysteries of the universe. Despite that, Lance made it a point to set aside some time to create a list. The subject of the aforementioned list was his good friend, Pidge. For a variety of reasons, he reserved a more-than-average portion of his mental capacity to the green-clad pilot, and he worried about her more than he would ever reveal. It wasn't that he feared for her safety, as she demonstrated a more than sufficient capacity for combat, with an intellect to match, but he still worried about her. To alleviate the all-encompassing stress that no-doubt weighed on her every action, Lance felt that Pidge could use a romantic partner. So, to that end, Lance decided to scour the universe for Pidge's ideal mate, and the first step in his master plan was to compile a list of qualities needed to match her extravagance. When he was fairly certain there was no impending danger bearing down on his teammates, he recused himself from all distractions, acquired a pen and sheet of paper, and planted himself firmly in the proverbial stew of his devotion.
The first step to any good paper or list was a good title. In bold, black letters, he wrote the following on the center of the top of the page and underlined it for emphasis:
Pidge's Ideal Guy:
Right off the bat, any guy who wanted to date Pidge had to be good-looking. Like, insanely hot. The hotness of guy's wasn't exactly his area of expertise, but he felt no shame in admitting that Pidge was insanely good-looking herself, and thus had the cream of the crop at her disposal. See, in most movies, the nerdy girl would have take off her glasses and let her hair down to become 'beautiful'. Time would crawl to a halt, the cheesy indie rock song would start playing, and choirs of Angels would descend from on high as the main guy finally got it into his head that he should be with her rather than the haughty, amoral cheerleader. The problem with that, Lance felt, was that Pidge was already earth-shatteringly beautiful with glasses and a short hair-cut, even more so than all those actresses that needed a galaxy's worth of make-up. It wasn't weird to admit that he found her extremely attractive since it was just one of those objective truths of the universe. Earth's sky was blue, its sun was yellow, and Pidge was extremely beautiful. He scribbled the first requirement down and continued his thought process.
Pidge's Ideal Guy:
Hot
The next requirement, and this was an essential one: Pidge's guy had to be rich. Anyone who knew her even a little bit knew she was nothing short of a crazy smart genius. If there was an ounce of fairness left in the universe, she would be back on earth creating all sorts of stuff that completely blow people away. That meant that Pidge's hypothetical man had to be a billionaire, although millionaires would be acceptable, so as to provide her with sufficient resources with which she would save the world.
Pidge's Ideal Guy:
Hot
Rich
Not coincidentally, the PIG (not the best acronym, but it would have to do) would need an intellect that could keep up with Pidge's. Not only was she a genius in scientific pursuits, but she had a razor sharp wit and was perpetually equipped with a snarky retort for every situation. That was something he loved about her. In a strange way, he almost liked it when she would insult his intelligence or lack of social graces, as it was a direct acknowledgement of his existence on her part.
Pidge's Ideal Guy:
Hot
Rich
Smart
Although, knowing Pidge, she would probably want to keep up her life of superheroism, even upon the return of peace. Considering Princess Allura would probably want Voltron back, and international law would probably look down upon the use of a crime-fighting super-mech piloted by a lone, unstoppably awesome scientist, Pidge would need to learn martial arts, as would the PIG. Either that, or he would use his exorbitant amount of money to pay for Pidge to train with ninjas, or something.
Pidge's Ideal Guy:
Hot
Rich
Smart
Proficient in Martial Arts
Contingent on that was Pidge's unflinching sense of moral duty. The PIG had to be someone like her who genuinely cared about people. Someone would be willing to risk their life for the good of humanity, and, if necessary, to save Pidge.
Pidge's Ideal Guy:
Hot
Rich
Smart
Proficient in martial arts
Super moral
Lance scanned over his completed list. It wasn't much, but it would do.
He made one final addendum below his initial analysis:
In conclusion...
Pidge's ideal guy is: Batman
Lance admitted he didn't have the broadest frame of reference, but Batman more than fit the bil-
A moment later, the sheet, the keeper of Lance's darkest secret, was whisked from his grasp. His heart came to a sudden stop, a condition not alleviated by the revelation that the culprit of the attack was Princess Allura.
"Lance, I did not know you were a writer of poetry!" She enthusiastically exclaimed, eyes wide as she scanned what was now Lance's poem. "I insist you share with me your art, for I am certain that it is fantastic!"
Lance made several frantic attempts to retrieve the item, all of which failed in the face of Allura's athleticism. When she finally ceased her impromptu dance, she looked confused. He had been found out.
"Lance," She softly inquired. "Is this poem about your feelings for Pidge?"
There was still time. "Uh, no, actually, it's a poem about a guy who has feelings for Pidge," His slapdash explanation was accompanied by various unintentional hand motions to better accentuate his point. "But it's totally not me."
She responded with a sly grin. "I am well versed in art, Lance, and I am more than acquainted with the concept of allegory."
He felt like his face was on fire. "Please don't tell her."
A small laugh. "I will not, but I demand to keep this poem as a memento to our friendship."
"Deal."
A short time later, the princess once again attacked Lance. She sounded positively radiant.
"Lance! I suspect Pidge wishes to speak with you."
Before he could whip around and further investigate the matter, she was off.
It took only a short time to find her. She was scrutinizing his list with an incredulous eye. Lance felt something horrible and heavy claw its way into his stomach.
"Uh, hey, Pidge." He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to make eye contact.
After what felt like a light-speed journey through several eternities, she finally turned to face him, list in hand.
"I have one question. Well, actually, no, two questions. First: the fuck is this?"
He felt obligated to answer, though he looked positively miserable doing so. "I was looking out for you."
Though not satisfied, Pidge accepted it. "Second: how long has this been going on?"
Lance toyed around with his hands while attempting to process the question. "How long has what been happening?"
Pidge let out an exacerbated laugh. "You feeling this way, moron!"
"Uh, a while. Probably when we first met. And it got worse over time."
Her slight grin turned into a full-on smile. "Awesome."
A live grenade went off in his chest. "What?"
Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, she made a minor leap to grip Lance by the cheeks in order to pull him in for a kiss. Despite the height and strength difference, Lance was utterly powerless to stop himself from being completely taken out of himself. Her lips and skin were as soft as he dreamed they were.
"You must think highly of me if my ideal dude is Batman." She was still wrapping his arms around Lance's neck as he bent his back and knees.
"I know he can be a bit of a hardcase. And he's fictional. But he was the only guy who met all the requirements." He offered her a tiny, shy smile.
"You may be a bit dull, and you're not rich, and you're really, really bad at martial arts, but you're my ideal moron."
It took him a moment to think of a retort. "So does that mean I'm hot?"