For the most part, Pidge liked her comrades. Despite their hang-ups and frequent sessions of infighting, they were amicable, willing to go the distance for others, and more than capable in a fight.

This tepid affection did not extend completely to Lance, however.

It wasn't that she wanted to send him into the vacuum of space, at least not all the time, but he certainly frustrated her far more than any other human being in the galaxy. Sure, he was an excellent pilot and marksman, but he was also an inconsiderate, obnoxious dolt who hit on any organic lifeform with a pair of boobs, probably because he himself was a boob.

But, for the time being, the two were bound by fate.

It all started when they were sent on a mission to a foreign planet to retrieve something of value for Princess Allura. Buried somewhere in the depths of the forest was some ancient Gallaran text Princess Allura insisted was of some significance, though the exact justification for such escaped Pidge. While they had managed to accomplish their task with relative ease, their supply of luck had swiftly diminished as they found themselves held at gun-point by a gang of marauding pirates, Pidge assumed, were after the same treasure. Thankfully, before she was forced to relinquish it, Lance had managed to set off a stun grenade, giving the two Paladins the opportunity to escape. While fleeing, they found themselves in the midst of massive rainstorm, and found shelter in a cave. It was hardly the most pleasant of accommodations, but it would do for the brief time the two were sequestered on this bizarre planet. After they had exited their armor in an attempt to increase their comfort and calm their nerves, Pidge made the unfortunate discovery that the planet's tropical climate was below her preferred temperature. She wrapped her arms around herself to maintain what little warmth her body had left.

"Pidge, what's wrong?" Lance, of course, was quick to question Pidge about every minute problem she encountered.

"Nothing. It's fine." Her teeth chattered all the while, defying her words.

Unconvinced, but not wanting to aggravate her, he simply gave her a skeptical look. "If you insist," Knowing that Pidge was not one who wanted seem needy, he decided to use his trademark sarcastic wit in order to change the subject. "You have the right idea. We're basically on vacation, may as well enjoy it."

She turned to face him to find he had followed her lead and disembarked from his armor, allowing himself a stretch and a satisfied groan. "You know, if not for being stuck in a cave hiding from a bunch of blood-thirsty mercenaries, I could get use to this."

Silence. He had at least hoped for a snarky retort about his lack of intelligence.

"Pidge?"

She didn't process what he said. She couldn't do much of anything outside of gawk at him. He wasn't exactly a hulking, amorphous mass like Hunk or Shiro, but it was clear that his time with the Garrison and their present endeavor had empirically improved his already above-average physique.

In other, less eloquent words: he was hot.

Once the thought entered her mind, she re-entered her horrible, nightmarish reality. "Why do you not have a shirt on?" She nearly screamed.

Lance, cheeks burning, backed away from her and held his hands in front of him as if to preemptively fight off her assault. "I didn't bring one! H-having a shirt on in the armor feels weird!"

Pidge liked to think that she was mostly immune to being flustered, but she presently felt as if she was going to lose what few brain cells had not yet been eroded by Lance.

"What are...why are you so!" Her mind presented the word "hot" in bold, neon letters. "Why are you so weird?"

Still blushing from her scrutiny, he gave a nervous smile. "Hey, comfort enhances my ability to save the universe."

Her frustration having somewhat overtaken her nervousness, she rolled her eyes and shifted away from Lance. Perhaps the cold could calm her anxiety even further. "You are such a tool. Actually, scratch that, tools are usef-"

Before Pidge could conclude the thought, thunder barreled its way overhead, and its retribution forced her to leap against her willpower. Her response to her newfound terror led her to grip on to Lance for dear life.

"Pidge, are you alright?" He frantically asked. Strangely enough, Pidge's current course of action surprised and terrified him far more than the sudden burst of thunderous retribution. She squeezed him with strength far greater than her frame gave away.

"T-thunder," She said more so to his chest than to himself. "Can you please just hold me until it stops?"

Lance had never seen Pidge so petrified. Normally, a temporary moment of weakness would necessitate banter, but he wanted to assuage her terror any way he could. "Of course, of course," Something primal compelled him to gently caress her hair, mostly to comfort her, but he didn't want to press his luck. "Let's just lie down. Is that okay?"

She barely made a nod. Holding on to her as if she were composed of glass, Lance ever-so-gently set his body on the base of the cave. He wasn't exactly thrilled to be lying in dirt, being the neat-nick that he was, but his desire to care for Pidge far overpowered any of that. Plus, having the exceptionally warm and soft body gripping him and burying her face into his neck was a small price to pay. She smelled really good.

"This ain't that bad, eh?"

A deeply uncomfortable thought had been thrust to the forefront of Pidge's mind now that she found herself glommed onto Lance: she wanted to put her hands back on Lance abs.

"Pidge?"

She looked up at him. "Yes?"

"I think the, uh, thunder stopped."

Pidge's eyes went wide as she realized he was correct. "Right!" She leapt up and dusted herself off. He took small comfort in the knowledge that she was blushing about as much as he was.

"Just...please don't tell the others that I have a thing about...thunder. And, y'know," She gestured with her hands in an attempt to accentuate her point. "The other stuff."

Again, Lance felt an insatiable urge to make a snarky comment about the normally fearless Pidge being rendered somewhat diffident, but he settled for a grin and a comforting "Don't worry about it."

After several seconds of sullen silence and awkward eye contact, Lance broke the void: "Pidge, can I ask you something?"

He sounded deathly serious, which was exceptionally rare for him. Regardless, Pidge stared straight into his eyes "Yeah?"

"Uh, this is a weird question..." His voice exposed more than a bit of timidity for someone who gave the outward appearance of a regular casanova. "Okay, no, this is a really weird question, but I can tell you're really cold. And don't even try to deny that you are, you're really, really cold, and I think...I think..."

She earnestly had no idea what was going to happen.

"I think we should huddle up for warmth."

Once again referring to the all-knowing power of objectivity, it made sense to have corporal entities in close proximity to one another in an effort to conserve internal warmth, particularly in exceptionally cold areas, but there was absolutely no way, in the lowest concentric circle of the demonic realm, would she ever, in a million lifetimes, ever cuddle with Lance. Especially when he didn't have a shirt on. She would sooner allow herself to freeze to death than to even go near him.

"Did...did you just ask if you could cuddle with me?"

He looked utterly mortified. "N-no, Pidge! I swear, I only want to do it for you!"

Seeing his expression, even Pidge felt her reaction had been a bit cruel. Lance, though a complete idiot with zero social skills, clearly had nothing but the best of intentions, but she was still indignant at his buffoonery. How dare he fluster her like that.

"Fine, fine. Let's do it. But if you tell anyone about this, I will murder you in your sleep."

Lance's smile was a bit wider than usual. "Deal."

Once again, like a true gentleman, Lance opted to lay himself down on the jagged surface, allowing Pidge to plop on top of him. He felt a surge of thrill in his spine as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Similarly, Pidge, though she would deny it to the end, was troubled by how much she was enjoying the present state of affairs. She felt something warm and pleasant radiate throughout her chest.

"Doesn't seem like the rain is gonna let up anytime soon, so feel free to fall asleep and I'll wake you up when it's done."

"And what if those psychos finds us in here?"

"That's why I'll be up and alert, silly."

"That's quite comforting." She sarcastically drolled.

And so, Pidge, draped over a shirtless Lance, promptly fell asleep.

Lance, as he so often did, found himself in a bit of a conundrum.

On the one hand, the rain storm had let up some time ago, but Pidge was still firmly entrenched in the land of dreams. He had made a promise to wake her up once they could get going, but she seemed so comfortable that he didn't wanted to interrupt her impromptu nap. The sound of her gentle breathing, the rise and fall of her chest, she looked so peaceful.

And even though he would never tell her this for fear of losing an extremity, she looked rather cute. She liked to come off as tough-as-nails, but that didn't stop Pidge from being cute as a puppy. Right now, she was downright adorable. Lance would probably squeeze her if it wouldn't wake her up.

Still, they couldn't stay there forever when any number of alien horrors could come roaring through and interrupt their bliss, so, in the name of compromise, he would carry her. It wasn't that long of a walk and Pidge barely weighed anything, so after carefully regaining his balance, he took off, with the green paladin still sound asleep.

Pidge, after being confused as to how she had woken up in familiar surroundings, was, to put it modestly, very, very angry. As was generally the case, Lance was the target of her acrimony. The moronic, pig-headed, brain-cell deficient idiot bereft of even a modicum of common sense had carried her home like she was the protagonist of some cheesy, horribly written romance story. What cruel, omnipotent, endlessly sadistic force had caused their paths to merge inexorably? What unnatural affliction possessed Lance to torture her the way he did? Would she soon lose every scrap of sanity he had not yet destroyed through his abject stupidity? As she pondered such pertinent queries, she sealed herself in her room, as far away from Lance as she could get. She considered throwing herself into her work to take her mind away from blinding, all-encompassing rage, but she made almost no progress on whatever project she was going to complete beyond a title (The title being GFY_Lance). She wasn't sure what she wanted to do, only that it had to be something other than allowing Lance to have even more space in her head than the more than slightly worrying amount he had at present.

A knock at her door. If it was anyone other than Keith, they would swiftly meet their demise. "What?" She made no effort to hide her disgust.

"Pidge? May I come in to talk?" The muffled voice was that of Princess Allura.

This was a conundrum. On the one hand, Pidge had zero desire to discuss anything with Allura at the moment, but the princess had done nothing to warrant anger. "Yes."

Having received permission, she took a seat on the side of Pidge's bed. If it had been anyone else, the insults would've started flying long ago. "Forgive my intrusion, but I wish to speak with you."

Her heart sunk. There could be only one thing on the her mind.

"I wish to talk with you regarding your time with Lance, for it has come to my attention that there is a custom among female humans in which they reserve time for the discussion of such acerbic matters; I believe it is colloquially referred to as 'girl talk'".

Oh, no. No, no, no, no. "No. No way this is happening." She slammed her laptop shut.

"I do not wish to make overstep my boundaries, Pidge, I only wish for you to purge yourself of any negative emotions, for it was easy to determine that you were quite upset and such emotions hold the potential to become fatal when not discussed with those you can trust."

There was no point in resisting. Allura had a way of relieving anxiety in those around her, and Pidge felt as if her thoughts about Lance were going to force their way out of her if she didn't expel them herself. She let out a deep sigh of resignation before beginning.

"I see." Allura had listened intently as Pidge had fully recounted the tale with far more detail than she initially wished to provide. Shyness was not something she was acquainted with, even when it came to discussing Lance in this way, but she found it impossible to meet Allura's eyes.

"At present, you find yourself deeply frustrated by Lance."

"Yeah."

"And although you were severely upset by him, there is a part of you that was grateful, yes?"

That forced eye contact "What?"

It was more or less the reaction she had hoped for. "I was under the impression you paradoxically also appreciated Lance's kindness."

Pidge squinted at her. "What are you implying?"

The princess couldn't help but allow a subtle smirk to emerge. "I would be grateful if someone did that for me, considering the discomfort that comes with lying prone and shirtless on a cave floor and the difficulty of not abruptly waking them while walking."

Some of the previously subdued rage resurfaced in her stomach. "What are you implying?"

Her subtle smirk evolved into a devilish grin. "Nothing. I'm merely pointing out that Lance acted like a gentleman."

Now she was blushing. "No. He's an idiot, and you're wrong for implying he could ever be anything other than that."

"There is nothing wrong with admitting that Lance is not as terrible as you make him out to be. He is an excellent pilot, a caring friend..."

"Alright."

"He is also exceptionally handsome. His face is properly portioned and symmetrical, not to mention his physique…"

"Alright! I admit it! I like him!" Utterly drained from energy from the the day's events and Allura's prodding, Pidge cut loose and screamed out her best kept secret to the universe. "Are you happy?"

She certainly was; she practically beamed.

"What gave it away?" No point in backing down now.

"The way your gaze would linger upon him coupled with the manner in which your cheeks would inflame often in his presence, I was all but certain you felt something for him beyond friendship."

"Oh, no."

"Yes! Precisely like that!"

Pidge, more than almost anything in that moment, wished that a black hole would materialize from the ether and take her far away from this putrid, miserable existence. "Please don't tell anyone else."

"Oh, Pidge, of course not! But I demand to know when you will inform of Lance of the good news."

Now she was confused. "What good news?"

"The good news that you reciprocate his affection and are willing to at last beginning a romantic relationship."

The mere mention was enough to make Pidge's gaze dart away. "I-I can't."

"Why not?"

Pidge looked around for a few seconds as if trying to discover an answer inscribed in the walls of her domicile before settling for a noncommittal: "Because…"

She put her hands on her shoulders "Pidge, whether you doubt yourself or the fact that Lance cares for you in a similar way, I will make it my duty to endow you with the courage to present your affection to him. Whatever I can do for you, I will."

For the first time in a while, Pidge genuinely smiled. "Thanks."

Allura also smiled at Pidge's happiness and her agreeing to the plan. "Excellent! First, as a simple exercise, I shall pretend to be Lance, and you shall pretend to be yourself as we simulate you asking him out on a date."

As quickly as it arrived, her smile was gone. "You can't be serious."

"Greetings, Pidge! It is I, your comrade and good friend, Lance. Did you have something to ask me?"

Pidge could only think to herself: "This is gonna suck".