Chapter 1

The First Smile - the Flirty One

New recruit day. Keith made his way along the line in the cafeteria, trying to calm his irritation in even this simplest and most mundane of daily routines. His mind was seething. He had once again been rebuffed by the general staff of the Garrison. He had pressured them on information about Shiro and the other two members of the Kerberos mission, but was told, once again, that the mission had failed and that the members had died. Keith could not believe that Shiro could actually be gone.

There were just...things...that didn't add up. The worst was that three different stories had been leaked out and none of them fully explained what had happened. Shiro was too good of a pilot, and while Keith didn't know the Holt's very well personally, both had good reputations as scientists and explorers.

Shiro crash landing and killing all of the crew? Not likely.

Dr. Holt causing an explosion on a relatively benign planet that had not been flagged as dangerous? Not likely.

Matt Holt accidentally causing system malfunctions on their ship when returning from the mission? Yes, a recently graduated cadet, but from all Keith knew of him, extremely competent in a way that matched Shiro. So again, not likely.

Things just did not add up and Keith could not find answers.

Which, in turn, made it extremely difficult to concentrate on his studies and training as a cadet. Shiro was the closest thing he had to family. The only thing he had. Shiro had recognized, long ago when Keith joined the Garrison, the potential in the talented, yet unfriendly and socially awkward waif. Shiro reached out to him and mentored him in a way an older brother would have, and Keith, who always wanted a sibling, latched on to Shiro and opened up to the older cadet in a way that he had never had the opportunity to do before.

When Shiro disappeared, it felt as if his heart had been ripped out.

At least if he knew for sure that Shiro was really gone, he would be able to grieve, but this uncertainty hurt worse than certainty would. As it was, he saw his time spent at the Garrison as pointless. He modestly believed he could learn nothing here about piloting. The task came second nature to him. There wasn't a simulation or practical flying exercise in which he wasn't expert.

Keith was restless, too. Something was calling him. He felt it. He didn't know what it was, but it was there. A small pressure at the back of his skull, a slight murmuring, almost a purr. Not a voice, per se, just a presence. Enough for him to doubt his sanity, but he didn't think he felt crazy. He just wanted to find out whatever it was this thing was trying to tell him.

He scowled down at the food that he had absently placed on his tray, then turned to find a seat in the mess hall. Keith had no friends, so he generally sat at a far off table, alone. He knew he never made the effort, but he couldn't. Making the effort when he was younger, trying to get to know his foster siblings, never worked out. The more rejection he went through, the more he drew in upon himself. He gave up trying.

Until Shiro, of course. Shiro had to make all the effort at befriending Keith.

He slid into the seat at the empty table and mechanically began eating. The Garrison wasn't known for providing gourmet food, and Keith had never really remembered ever enjoying meal times. In foster care, he was provided with food, but usually from overworked and busy foster mothers, who had their own children to worry about. They provided food, of course, but bland, unhealthy, fast food, usually. Keith only had a vague memory of loving the chili that his father had made when Keith was a little kid. He remembered the first time chili had been served in the cafeteria shortly after he had joined the Garrison. He had been so excited, but the thin, soupy, tomato-y bowl was nothing like what his father would make. Yet another disappointment.

A slight stir at the entrance to the mess hall caused Keith to look up briefly from his meal. One of the captains was leading a small group, gesturing as she spoke to them. Keith recognized them as new recruits, recent additions to the Garrison. Keith had been here for two years, but knew the Garrison would recruit all ages. Skill and academic promise were the criteria, not age. New recruits, however, didn't interest him, so he turned his attention back to his lunch.

Keith made little headway on it. Usually he shoveled it in, not paying attention to the taste. It was just fuel, in his opinion. Today, however, he spent most of the lunch period poking at the lump of noodles and the side of something that was grayish-green.

"Hey there, good-looking, mind if I join you?"

Startled, Keith looked up, his mouth dropping open. All he saw was a smile. His eyes focused only on that - a brilliant and perfect smile. How could anyone have such perfect teeth? The lips were drawn up, lovely full and soft-looking lips - full enough to be luscious and thin enough to still be manly. Manly? Keith, staring for probably too long to be polite at just that smile, finally pulled his focus away and allowed his eyes to take in the person giving him the smile.

The second thing he noticed was gorgeous blue eyes - eyes that sparkled with faint amusement and a glint of something else Keith couldn't quite identify. Small laugh lines crinkled at the edges and the eyes were framed by impossibly long lashes. And the color. Keith had never seen such a blue color before.

The face, smiling patiently down at him, stunned him as well. Smooth light-brownish skin. Hispanic, was his immediate thought. Brushed with freckles over the apples of the high cheekbones and the nose. Delicate eyebrows arched over the eyes and under a close-cropped tangle of brown hair. The boy was tall and lanky and his hands held a tray full of the same thing as on Keith's.

"What?" Keith said blankly.

"Mind if I join you? I saw you looking a little lonely and figured you could use my dazzling company. The name's Lance. Lance McClain. New recruit, but soon to be best pilot of the Garrison." The voice was smooth and silky and did something funny to Keith's stomach.

Though Keith was still mesmerized by the smile.

Lance waited a moment. "Leaving me hanging?" he asked, huffing out a little in mock-annoyance. "I know I'm good-looking, but I didn't mean to stun you into silence. I mean, you probably get the same reaction yourself, so you should be used to it."

"I. Wait. What?"

"With those beautiful eyes? Come on. You must break hearts left and right. Don't break mine."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Keith admitted, frowning. He really didn't. No one had ever spoken to him this way. He was usually ignored by everyone here. "I'm just...I'm just trying to eat my lunch." Even Keith winced at how harsh his voice sounded.

"Oh ok. Just trying to be friendly," Lance responded, though his smile faltered a little and his eyes looked hurt to Keith. "No big deal. I'll leave you alone." With that, the boy turned and carried his tray over to another table where he sat down next to a friendly-looking larger boy that Keith pegged as a new recruit as well.

Keith sat, staring at the boy. At Lance, he corrected himself. His lunch sat, forgotten and cold now as he berated himself. Why couldn't he be normal and make friends? Lance had basically offered friendship to him and he had awkwardly rebuffed it. He didn't even know how he had rebuffed it, he just had. Now Lance was laughing at something the other was saying. Lance's laugh carried to his ears and he could see the other boy laughing as well. 'That could have been me,' he thought sadly.

After that disaster, Keith could never bring himself to speak to Lance, but he paid attention to him. The memory of that first smile stayed in his head - the way it made his stomach twist whenever he pictured it in his mind; the last thing he thought of before finally drifting into his restless sleep, comforting him during the final days of the Garrison, a constant presence in his thoughts as he spent nameless day after nameless day in the shack in the desert trying to figure out the OTHER presence in his mind. That smile was always there like a warm presence in his lonely life.