Pidge was alive, and her first coherent thought was, Lance is never going to shut up about the Birthday Curse now. She waited for the sound of cascading rubble to stop before trying to move the sheet of metal that had shielded her from the brunt of the explosion. Her shoulder screamed when she raised her arms, but after some testing, Pidge decided it was only bruising and a pulled muscle. If Lance's theory about her birthday held any truth, she'd gotten off light this year.

Shiro was going to be upset with her. His expression right before the charge had gone off… Well, she wasn't very good at reading faces, but she assumed she was in for a Keith- or even a Lance-level lecture. Shoving that train of thought away—Shiro's disappointment seemed about the worst birthday present imaginable—she threw her weight against the scrap of shuttle siding above her. It gave reluctantly, and deluged her in a shower of dust and debris when she managed to dislodge it. To her annoyance, she was forced to climb out of her makeshift foxhole, shoulder complaining the whole way.

As she teetered onto her feet at the summit of her little pile of destruction, she heard someone calling her name. Relief clenched her throat. She had been certain that the blast wouldn't reach him when she'd triggered it, but apparently she'd been anxious nonetheless. She had to pause and swallow before she could call out, "Shiro! I'm over here!"

He came running from behind a half-collapsed section of the ceiling, ducking under the wing of a fighter that had fallen from the hangar on the level above. Pidge pasted a lopsided grin on her face and half climbed, half slid down the hill of debris to meet him. He was fine; she hadn't hurt him. "Got it," she said as Shiro drew close. She raised her fist in triumph to show him the canister. Ignoring her prize, Shiro wrenched her into an embrace that nearly lifted her off her toes.

Pidge coughed, embarrassed. "I'm uh, I'm okay, Shiro." She clutched the canister against her chest with one hand, clung to Shiro's shirt for balance with the other. "I knew what I was doing." His arms tightened around her before he drew back enough for Pidge to crane her head up and see his face. There was something terrible in his expression, something that stuttered her heartbeat and nearly made an I'm sorry tumble out of her. She bit the words back. She wasn'tgoing to apologize—what she had done was necessary.

Shiro raised a hand to brush soot away from a nick on her jaw. "May I kiss you?" he asked hoarsely.

Pidge froze.

"W-what?"

He let his forehead fall against hers. "May I," he repeated quietly, "kiss you?" His voice was strangely heavy, exhausted and tender at the same time. Pidge didn't know what to make of it.

"Sure?" she managed.

Shiro bent down. The kiss he pressed to her lips was warm and firm, and felt as though it was trying to hold her in place. Slowly, the tension bled from Shiro's muscles; his death grip around Pidge's arms softened into a gentler hold. He broke away to feather quick, light kisses on her mouth, until at last he sighed and rested his head at the crook of her neck.

Pidge gave Shiro a full minute to collect himself, forcing herself to breathe evenly as she waited. It had been almost two years since she'd admitted to Shiro that she was in love with him, and since he had turned her down with characteristic compassion and respect. In that time, the only change between them was that Pidge had grown used to living with her feelings; being in love with Shiro was an everyday inconvenience she'd learnt to deal with. Shiro had been her consistent ally, taking care to bar any ambiguity from their friendship. This, whatever it was, was a breach of their boundaries, and it filled Pidge with anxiety.

Her antsiness grew as Shiro continued to breathe against her collarbone with no sign he planned to move. "Shiro?" she said tentatively. He turned so that his nose nuzzled into her neck, but said nothing. "Shiro, um…" He began to layer slow kisses up her throat and under her ear. Pidge's entire body went hot. "Shiro," she deadpanned. "If you're not trying to seduce me, you need to stop. Like, now. And we need to get this back to the castle."

Shiro paused, mouth pressed up under Pidge's jawline. "I'm seducing you," he said. He sounded tired.

Pidge's eyes snapped wide. She pushed Shiro back so that she could see his face. "Since when?" she demanded.

His gaze, his voice were inscrutable. "A few months, at least."

Pidge spluttered. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Couldn't think of a way to bring it up."

"How about, 'Hey Pidge, I've got something serious to discuss with you, can we talk?'" Near verbatim what she'd said to him.

"I couldn't find the right time—"

"Oh yes, and this," Pidge gestured at the gaping ceiling, the burnt out husk of a shuttle craft, "is great timing."

Shiro swore under his breath. "I thought I had more time. I forgot about the blasted Birthday Curse."

Pidge crossed her arms. "You don't believe in that nonsense."

Shiro's mouth twisted to the side. "Believe that you'll throw yourself into danger, against my orders, when you've thought up something clever and don't think you have time to explain it to your so-very-slow teammates? Believe that you won't run a change in plans by your leader in advance? Believe that you'll act even more rashly than usual on days you particularly miss your family?"

Pidge flushed. "It was the only—"

Shiro's hands twitched, as though he wanted to seize her again, but he restrained himself. "I know. I know, and it was smart and—and probably the right thing to do. I know you're not Keith, throwing yourself into things without thinking, and you're not Lance, seeing the risk and doing it anyway, but...damn it, Pidge, whenever you rush off without saying anything, I always wonder if this is going to be the time you calculated it and decided it was your turn to go in for the heroics. It scares me. It scares all of us."

"I," Pidge struggled for words. "I'm not going to stop."

Shiro regarded her with a worn-out smile. "I know."

"If I see it, I'm going to do something about it," Pidge warned him. She stepped in towards him and let him wrap her into another hug.

"I know," he said.

"And I'm not going to waste time explaining things if I need to move fast," she mumbled into his chest.

"I know," he said.

"And Keith is slow," she said.

"Pidge."

"And Hunk pretends to be slow if it looks dangerous to get involved."

"Pidge."

"Where's your com, shouldn't we be telling them we didn't blow up?"

Keeping Pidge pinned to his side with one arm, Shiro reached down to fumble in his pocket. "Shouldn't you be telling me how you feel about all this?"

"I feel like I should make you work on your communication and try the whole thing all over again when we get back," Pidge grumbled. "I thought you were trying to keep it friendly and platonic."

"I'll work on it," Shiro promised, and he leaned down to kiss her hair before opening a line to the castle.