Impedance
I said I was done with Harmonics. Pidge and Larmina said oh no I wasn't, and then Daniel got in on it, and then there was this. Be warned, perspective swaps ahead.
The naming convention for this series is way too strict. This one's a stretch, I know...
Sequel to Consonance.
So Larmina's been sparring a lot more than usual lately. Normally I wouldn't find that weird, I mean, she'll sort of punch anything that moves, won't she? Thing is, her new sparring partner isn't exactly the first person on the Voltron Force you think of when you start thinking hand to hand combat.
Or the second person. Or the fifth person.
Pidge, really? His voltcom won't even give him a melee weapon. Sparring. Right.
I don't know who she's fooling—wait, no, I most certainly do know who she's fooling, Vince is totally buying that line. Not me. I'm not stupid. I may not know exactly what they're up to behind closed doors, but I do know what's going on.
But how the hell?
How did those two of all people... no, it's not that. It's...
What about me? How'd she slip away like that?
I know. I didn't move fast enough. It's that easy. I didn't move fast enough and now it's over.
Speed's sort of my thing, and this is why. Look what happens when I try to go slow. It doesn't work out, it...
Damn it!
Wasn't she just playing hard to get? I thought she was. She had to be. That's what chicks do. If I weren't trying to play a stupid guessing game to make sure I did it right, because what do I know about trying to be romantic anyway, everything would've been fine.
Ugh, why can't girls just come out and tell you what they want?
There, that'll fix everything, won't it? Blame her. No, don't blame her. Blame the one who got in the way! I had that until he messed things up.
I need to stop this, it's not doing me any good. Don't brood, don't dwell on it. Get over her, Daniel, because you missed your chance and now it's gone for good. Figure it out. Find someone new. Forget about girls at all, who cares about them? You never worried about girls before her.
You don't need girls, you just need to go fast. Faster than ever. Fast enough for everything you ever felt about her to be left in the dust where it belongs.
And if it were that easy I'd have done it already, because I've learned my lesson about hesitating.
I just...
Damn. It. All.
It feels a little better like that, snapping off each word like a gunshot. But it's not strong enough, not angry enough. It's missing something. Needs to be more specific.
Damn him.
Yeah, that's it.
Damn you, Pidge! She was mine!
No she wasn't. She wasn't mine yet, because I didn't make a move, and that puts me right back where I started. I was too slow. And I can keep running laps around my head until I drive myself crazy, or I can go take it out on something else.
Haven't beat up the sim lately. Let's do that.
Sim off.
Uh, no. Sim on. Go away, Pidge.
You need a break, Daniel. You're going to hurt yourself.
Big deal. Go away.
You won't be able to fly.
What do you care? Go away.
What's gotten into you?
Just buzz off, Pidge.
Sim off. Lock.
Excuse me, I wasn't finished.
Yes you were.
The simulator can only run so long. Maybe more to the point, whoever's beating on the sim can only hold out for so long. I don't know how babysitting the sim room turned into my job, but my job it is, and when the monitors were showing a two hour stretch of activity what choice did I really have?
Babysitting. Apt term.
I was expecting to find Lance there, actually. He's generally the one person in the castle who goes at the sim for hours at a time and doesn't care when he ends up bruised and bleeding. At least he goes quietly when I show up to pull him out—now that he knows arguing will get him nailed to the wall by smart stars.
But it wasn't who I was expecting. Not quite. Daniel does try way too hard to be Lance, and he's seeing about half success so far; all the bad qualities and none of the good ones.
Maybe that's a little harsh. He's a good kid. Or I thought he was a good kid, but maybe that was a little too generous. I don't know... I'm not that good a judge of character. People are tricky. Computers are easier. But in any case there he was, being thrown all over the room by fake-glowing-Lotor, not seeming to notice at all that he was losing his fight with the sim horribly.
This is not something I'm supposed to let slide.
I might've hesitated a little too long as it was, actually. For a moment I couldn't help wondering if he was getting off on the pain and I should just leave him to it—that's something on my radar now, awkward as it is to wonder about.
Didn't matter, in the end. That sort of thing can't interfere with your duties. I know it, Larmina knows it, and if she can manage to show that much restraint I'd think anyone can. Daniel will have to learn it if that's actually what he's going for.
Besides... surely not. Not another one. That would be silly.
He was not happy to be interrupted. Okay, fair enough. Like I said, I'm not happy to have to be pulling babysitting duty either. But I was just doing my job, and is it really so god-awful to be looking after a teammate? We're the Voltron Force. That's what we do.
I really don't think I deserved the reaction I got... but maybe I'm wrong. Probably should've seen it coming, actually. But what do I know?
I hate not knowing. Look where it gets me.
Do you want to be part of the Voltron Force, or don't you?
Don't threaten me.
I'm not threatening you, I'm asking a question.
What's that got to do with anything?
What happens when we need you and you're lying around with a broken arm?
Guess I don't get to fight.
Get to? Daniel, you have a responsibility to this team, it's not just about you!
That's real convincing coming from you.
Excuse me?
You heard me.
You'd better have a good explanation for that.
I should've punched him.
I really should've punched him.
I really, really should've punched him.
I really, really, really... okay, so adding more 'really's is not going to change the fact that I did not punch him and he's kinda out of range now. Missed my chance.
Seems like I miss lots of chances.
Honestly it would've been hard to punch him. Do you have any idea how hard it is to yell at Pidge when you're actually talking to Pidge? He doesn't yell back, he doesn't get mad. He goes cold and it's like raging at a glacier.
It doesn't matter what you do to ice. Punch it, kick it, you'll break your own bones. Set it on fire! Go ahead. It won't care and you'll drown when it melts. Like I drowned in that look in his eyes, like he was staring at an insect. Angry? He wasn't angry. I wasn't worth his time to be angry at.
Do you know what that's like? When you're pissed off at someone and you think you're gonna get to vent, you're gonna be able to have it out with them and let it all go, but it turns out they don't care at all? It's worse than anything.
Maybe punching him would've gotten more of a reaction. I will definitely try that next time, if there's a next time. I hope there's a next time.
Damn. Him. Anyway.
Probably shouldn't have snapped at him like that, actually. Sure, I've had Lance mad at me and made it through that fine, but Lance went off at me so hard he got the whole rest of the force on my side. Something tells me Pidge will be a lot better with the whole subtlety thing if he decides he wants to make my life miserable.
If? Hell.
He's got Larmina and I don't. What can he do to make me more miserable?
...Keep me out of a lion. Yeah. He could do that, and that would do it.
I don't know if he's that spiteful. Just because I would be that spiteful. He's not me, obviously, or this problem wouldn't be a problem. And I don't know, figuring out what makes Pidge tick never seemed like a high priority for me.
What does Larmina even see in him?
What kind of stupid question is that, Daniel?
He's the Green Lion. He's a genius butt-kicking ninja scientist. He's DJ-freaking-Prong of Stereolactic! And what am I? Some punk kid who's coasting on luck.
No contest really.
I hate him.
Is that too strong? I mean, I'm pretty mad at me too. Not his fault I was too slow.
Doesn't matter. Hating is so much easier than feeling sorry for myself. So I hate him, I hate him more than anything, and don't try to tell me that's a bad idea because we're both part of the Voltron Force and I'm stuck with dealing with him if I want to hang around. I can hate him and still work with him.
Just have to keep it more under wraps from now on. Have a little impulse control.
So yeah, I'm screwed.
...That was terrible word choice.
How do I get myself into these messes? There's a part of me that wants to go swipe someone's lion and head back to Doom right now. Blow some stuff up. Maybe take Green, that'll show him, he's got my girl but I've got his ship, let's see how he takes that. That wouldn't be beneath his notice. That would get his attention.
Impulse control, Daniel. Impulse control! Forget Pidge, who cares what he thinks, but Keith would go supernova. That won't help anything.
And now the sim room's locked, because having Larmina isn't enough, because Pidge has to be an overbearing jerk who won't even let me decide my own limits. Where does he get off, seriously? Threatening my spot on the team over punching Lotor in the face repeatedly? That's ridiculous. But it's done now, the sim's locked and if I don't work all this energy off somehow I'm gonna explode.
What would Lance do?
Punch a wall, probably. I don't think I'm quite that into pain. Actually I kind of prefer to avoid pain, unless I'm dishing it out to Drules or holograms.
Gotta find something else.
You're not worried about what you're doing to the team, are you?
I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.
You and Larmina!
What?
Don't play dumb, you're not good at it.
No, I don't mean—how did you—that's really not your concern.
Sure it is. She was spoken for.
...You can't be serious.
I'm dead serious.
You do know it doesn't work like that, right?
It's a damned good thing Larmina's going to enjoy this, because I don't think I'd be able to restrain myself regardless. Daniel's lucky to still be in one piece... lucky I've spent my whole life training myself to hold back emotions I find inconvenient. Anger is at the top of the list.
She was spoken for, are you fucking kidding me.
That's a human word, fuck. One they like a whole lot. But it's so far off anything we use for cursing on Balto—I mean, what kind of sense does "oh, sex!" make as an expletive anyway? I never quite got the appeal until this moment. But it's a good word. Sharp. Harsh. Vulgar. Everything I'm feeling right now summed up in a single syllable.
Fuck.
There's nobody to intercept me in the hallway, which is lucky for everyone involved. I'm going to go off at the first person who tries to make me talk... I have limits, and I'm reaching them quickly.
Larmina's in her room, also fortunate, because I'd absolutely have dragged her off duty and that would've raised some kind of uncomfortable questions. As it is the door isn't locked, not that it would matter, and before she can react I've given up on controlling my temper and pinned her to the wall.
I usually don't get very far past her lip gloss. But this is not usually.
She freezes up in my hands, and I can feel her gasping as I force my tongue between her teeth, because I've certainly never done that before and whatever she was expecting, this wasn't it. And this is Larmina, and she's trying to counter, to struggle, as she should be. As she always does. But even she's not strong enough, can't stand against the fury and passion pounding through my veins.
Don't fight me, Larmina, not now. You belong to me! Don't even play at hinting otherwise. Stay still and take it because this is what we do, because nobody else can overpower you like this, you wouldn't let them... or at least you wouldn't like it.
I wouldn't call what I'm doing kissing her. No. Feasting on her, tasting mint and raspberry and an indescribable warm taste that's simply her. Invading her relentlessly... claiming her. Past the point of no return, beyond the palest shadow of a doubt.
So maybe I'm a possessive bastard. I can own that as easily as I can own her... I'm coming to terms with things, because she's forced me to. Because the predator she loves so much would never share his prey.
Eventually we have to breathe, and that's the only reason the onslaught ends. But I don't pull back; my mouth is still against hers when I speak. "Larmina. Tell me you're mine."
Her tongue touches my lips. "Why don't I show you?"
Insufficient. I need to hear. "Say it!"
A spark in her eyes. The hunger I know so well. "Of course I'm yours, Pidge."
Still insufficient. But I knew that. "Now prove it." Growling with all the menace she could ever ask for. Running a hand down her chest, brushing my fingers down her ribs and across her abdomen, unlatching the belt on her uniform just so there's no question whatsoever what I want.
But she doesn't move. There's an odd look in her eyes now. Her hunger warring with confusion, concern trying to overwhelm them both. I don't know how long she just stares at me, driving me mad with her stillness and her silence. What's taking so long? It's always her pushing this.
She can't be so still. Can't be so quiet. Can't be so damned passive, because everything inside me is burning, and I don't know how long I can wait for her to make the next move. If she's not going to give herself up I'll just take her.
Come on, Larmina...
"No."
...Did she just...
It seems like the words shatter everything. All my desire, all my anger—all of reality collapses around me and it takes me a moment to pick up the pieces, to step back and look at her and realize she just... she just... gods, what just happened? She didn't. She couldn't have just said no.
Well that's not an arrogant thought at all.
Of course she said no! The way I barged in here, snarling and raging and taking her for granted in a way I promised myself I never would. Of course she said no because in the end... it's just like I said.
I'm not a good person. Haven't I been saying that all along? I knew sooner or later I would go too far.
Daniel will be thrilled.
Another step back. But she steps forward. "Stop, Pidge. Listen. It's not what you think. I just... I can't take advantage of you like this."
Wait. Huh? "What... what're you talking about?"
"Look at yourself." Concern finally seems to have won that war in her eyes, twin orbs of aquamarine that pierce me like knives. "This isn't what you want. Remember? You keep saying you're not ready. That it has to be special, it has to be perfect, it has to not be just your emotions running away on you. I don't know what's got you so angry but... this isn't what you want."
I... I don't believe it.
Crippling guilt accompanies my first thought, which is that I don't believe she's the one showing restraint in this moment. Any moment. But I shouldn't think so little of her. We fight. But we love, we love each other more than anything, and she's always been more patient than I can believe. Just for the sake of my last shreds of romantic idealism.
She's right. Of course she's right. I've wanted her so badly for so long, and if it were as simple as this I'd have taken her a long time ago. I just...
"Tell me what happened," she whispers.
Tell her what? Tell her I got this jealous, this insecure, over Daniel shooting off his mouth? I might as well say I was taking Lance seriously, or let one of Keith's orders get under my skin. Might as well say I just lost it. Maybe it was a dream, maybe it was a nightmare, but anything's better than the truth. Anything.
Even running.
I'm gone.
Look, she didn't say anything...
Of course she didn't.
You're going to insist on taking this personally, aren't you?
Who's taking it personally?
You are.
Not hardly. You've got her, I want her, it's nothing personal, just leave me alone.
Right... I'll do that.
And yet you're not leaving.
You know, it's funny. I have no idea why Larmina would find your tantrums unattractive.
Got it.
If I don't have anything to hit, I'll kick something. There's pretty much a perpetual pickup game going at the soccer field down in the capital, and nobody can come tell me off for trying to get hurt doing that. It's just a game, right?
Oh, I'll be fine. It's just any goalie that gets in my way is gonna be feeling some serious hurt.
Wait. They're not called goalies in soccer. Or at least Hunk keeps trying to tell me that, because proper terminology is very important or something. I'm actually not sure I believe him, but hey, if he wants me to say keeper I'll say keeper. I dare any keeper to try to block one of my kicks. It's gonna be all kinds of painful.
Funny thing about cities. They're sort of big and convoluted. And when you're thinking about how much you want to kill someone you're not really paying attention to where you're going.
So there comes a moment when I look up and have no idea where I am. Wait, yes I do. I'm in the city. Duh.
Damn it, seriously! Can this day suck any worse?
Larmina never showed me around the city. Wasn't one of her favorite places to hang out. We never even got back to that tour Lotor's crazy Voltron knockoff interrupted, we got sorta preoccupied explaining to Keith where Vince dug up a tank...
And then taking down Wade, and building Awesometron, and taking a road trip with Awesometron, and basically finding a hundred different ways to try to get ourselves killed defending the universe.
Why the hell didn't I just tell her...
I can be mad at Pidge all I want. What if it wasn't him? What if it was her dying rather than someone swiping her? Still would've been too slow and I wouldn't have anyone to be pissed off at. That would be inconvenient.
That's not helping. Forget the what-ifs. What's important is what happened.
Damn. Him.
That makes me feel better than wondering.
Once I finally find the soccer field I really, really want to kick something really hard. More than I did when I started out, and I didn't realize it could get a whole lot worse than that.
My team figures it out real quick. I'm fast. And I'm mad.
Great combination for them to stand back and let me do my thing.
There's a rhythm to it as I take the ball down the field. I-hate-him-I-hate-him-I-hate-him. It's actually tough to keep control because I have to keep convincing myself no, not time for the epic kick I'd like to have delivered to his face, not just yet.
So I'm not really thinking about the game.
So what? I dare someone to whine about it.
Only one person between me and the goal now. A girl in an Alliance-issue tracksuit, no doubt off duty and used to overrunning everyone else here through superior conditioning. But she hasn't had to deal with me. She might be Alliance, but I'm Voltron Force. And I'm all about speed.
We'll see about this.
Breaking into the best sprint I've got, I get around her, but realize pretty quickly I'm not putting any distance between us. She really is fast—almost faster than me.
That's... pretty hot, actually...
Pouring on the speed I get a shot off, one that should've ripped the net right off its posts, but it goes well over the crossbar instead. Okay, so aiming's never actually been my specialty. And I could probably be embarrassed, but the girl looks over at me and grins while the goalie or keeper or whatever the hell is chasing down the ball. "Not bad. Been awhile since anyone could outrun me. What's your name?"
"I'm Daniel."
She sticks out a hand, still grinning. It's a nice grin, to be honest. Real nice. "I'm Tammy. Haven't seen you around before."
I show her my voltcom before shaking her hand. Everyone on Arus and half the galaxy knows what that means. "I don't get down to the city much. Got lost on the way here, actually."
"That's too bad. You need someone to show you around? Being cooped up in that castle all the time isn't good for you." When the goalie—sorry Hunk—returns, Tammy winks at me before turning away. "I'd be happy to give you a tour later if you can keep up."
Hmm...
You know?
I might be able to get over Larmina after all.
You're pushing it, Daniel. If you expect me to stay away from you, get out of my hangar.
Yeah, uh, about that. I actually kind of came to apologize.
...Huh?
You heard me.
I don't think I heard you correctly.
Look, don't make this harder than it already is, okay?
It seems a little too easy, honestly.
Oh. Yeah. It's just, uh. I'm not so worried about Larmina anymore.
Already?
I like to go fast.
My official explanation for why I bolted on Larmina is embarrassment. There's plenty to be embarrassed about, really. Gods, I don't believe what I just did.
I can't take this. What she does to me. She's the only one who can make my body slip out of the chains my mind holds it in, the bonds that are supposed to protect me... and protect others from me. She can take it. I know she can.
Snapping like that because of someone else just raising the subject? It's terrifying.
But I could tell her all that. She knows. Knows me better than I know myself, on this subject, makes me confront it and helps me try to accept it. I need her, when I get like this. There wasn't any need to run.
If I'm honest with myself, I just wanted to make her come after me.
It doesn't take long.
"Huh. Didn't expect that," she comments lightly as the door slides open. "I was fully expecting to have to break your lock."
The thought occurred to me. "As much as I would enjoy watching that, which of us is going to explain it to Keith when I have to requisition replacement parts?"
"Excellent point." She's giving me that look like she already knows exactly where this conversation is going to go, once we actually start having it.
And she probably does.
"Look, Larmina. I'm sorry—"
"—Oh, stop. I don't want to hear it, that was the best you've ever kissed me. But if you insist, how about apologizing for the fact that you came storming in hotter than ever and I had to be the one who got all responsible about sex? Do you have any idea how hard that was to resist?"
Yeah, that was about what I expected.
She's crazy. It's part of why I love her, but gods, sometimes I think she might be certifiable. "I was about five seconds from raping you and you're whining about your restraint problems?"
A wicked grin. "It's not rape if I'm willing."
Not the first time she's said that, actually. I wish she wouldn't. "Larmina..."
"I know, I know." She sits next to me on the bed and kisses me on the cheek. Lightly. More gently than it seems like she should be capable of. "I've never seen you that angry, Pidge. Do you want to talk about it?"
No. I don't want to talk, don't want her to know what set me off. If I tell her she'll probably go pound Daniel's face into the floor, and right now... I don't want her to leave me.
Especially not for anything involving him.
It is probably a conversation we should have at some point, but this isn't the time. "Later."
"Later," she agrees, resting a hand on mine.
There's a faint scent of raspberry drifting by... right. When I kissed her before I was so far from being in my right mind, lost in my anger and insecurity. Not myself. So, she's still wearing lip gloss.
I should probably go ahead and fix that oversight.
Her eyes glitter when I shift, already anticipating, because she must have known it would get to this sooner or later. But... no. Not this time.
"Don't fight," I whisper just before pressing my lips against hers.
She understands, and moves closer to me without violence. We'll be back to normal tomorrow, because neither of us can resist, because we need that pain to sharpen the pleasure that runs alongside it. But for now... just give me this once where we don't have to fight. Where there are no illusions of struggle.
Just the two of us, together, as we should be.
