Final Suspicions

A/N: This is actually its own short story in the same series as "Searching for the Supernatural in All the Wrong Places," but because of how ff . net is formatted it seemed better to group them all together then post them separately.

"Uh-huh," Lance nudged Sayda off the couch so he could drop the laundry basket on it, phone tucked between his ear and shoulder, "no, Shiro can't come to the phone right now. His brains are leaking out his ears."

"Leave me alone," Shiro scowled without looking up from the papers spread all over the kitchen table.

"Also he hasn't slept in three days, and he would have starved to death without me," Lance continued.

"You're such a tattletale," Shiro grumbled.

Lance grinned at him, nodding along to the voice on the phone. Sayda jumped into the laundry basket and curled up in the clean clothes, kinked tail wrapping around herself primly. Lance reached down to scratch her ears, and she started to purr.

"uh-huh," Lance responded, "I'll tell him."

"Allura says she's in charge," Lance held the phone out to Shiro, "and you have to talk to her."

"I have 150 more essays to grade, 60 short answer exams to correct, 250 grades to calculate, and apparently there's an epidemic of people who don't know the difference between and comma and a semicolon," Shiro growled, "tell Allura I'll call her later."

"One of those makes the wink-y face, doesn't it?" Lance asked innocently.

"Go file a book or something Lance," Shiro tossed a wad of paper at him.

Lance caught it, then tossed it to Sayda, whose ears had perked up at the projectile. She pounced on it, tossing it out of the laundry basket and enthusiastically following it under the couch.

"Did you catch that?" Lance said into the phone, "uh-huh, yeah, I'll tell him."

He turned back to Shiro, holding out the phone, "Allura says you're setting a bad example for your poor, sweet, impressionable little charge."

"It's been over 150 years since you were my charge," Shiro snatched the phone from him, pressing it to his ear, "can't this wait?"

While Shiro was chewed out by their clan leader for not sleeping for extended amounts of time, Lance opened up the fridge, grabbing a drink pouch with a very happy looking cartoon pig on it.

He had to admit, he found it a little odd that their blood pouches were labeled with such happy looking animals, since those animals eventually became food. He supposed it was the manufacturer's way of telling them that their animals were well cared for.

While Shiro argued with Allura on the phone about not needing sleep, and sleeping once grades were in, Lance microwaved a mug of water and dropped the pouch in to warm.

Sayda dropped the paper wad at his feet and gave a demanding meow. Lance threw it into Shiro's lap, and he blinked down at it tiredly, then yelped in surprise and nearly dropped the phone when the cat flung herself into his lap after it.

"No, no," Shiro caught the phone, putting it back to his ear, "I'm fine. Lance's cat is just trying to kill me."

Sayda gave him an indignant look and jumped off to chase after the paper again.

Lance went back to folding clothes, trying not to look too amused at Shiro's mounting frustration with Allura. He got this way at the end of pretty much every semester, and Shiro really didn't do well when he was sleep deprived. He started having nightmares, and occasionally, it lead to actual insomnia (as opposed to his own stubbornness keeping him awake).

"Lance, take the phone," Shiro waved it in his direction, "Allura wants to talk to you again."

Lance grinned and took it from him, tucking it against his ear, "uh-huh, I'll take care of it, yeah, I'll get on that too and let you know, okay, bye."

He hung up and set the phone down, then pulled the pouch out of the warm water and poked a straw into it.

"I can't believe you called Allura just to tell on me," Shiro glared.

"I did no such thing," Lance set the pouch next to him, "drink that. She called me about something totally unrelated."

"Really?" Shiro took a sip, then gave Lance a betrayed look, "Lance, this is warm."

"I know," Lance grinned, "you're going to bed. It will help you sleep."

"I'm not going to sleep. I have too much to do," Shiro sucked on the straw anyway.

"Don't make me call Allura back," Lance threatened, "eat your dinner and go to bed like a sane person, and I'll tell you why Allura called me in the first place."

Shiro weighed his options, then pushed the papers in front of him away with a huff, "what did she want?"

"She wants me to hunt through the archives downtown," Lance shooed Sayda off the laundry again, throwing a sock for her to chase since he didn't know where the paper had gone, "apparently someone found a lead on one of the amulets, and there are a couple names she wants me to track down."

"Recent names?" Shiro momentarily forgot his grumpiness.

"No," Lance shook his head, "probably at least a century old, and they're not even sure if they're people or places, but some of the town archives go back farther than that, so I can at least take a look and see what's there."

"If the names are leading back here, that means an amulet could potentially be here," Shiro mused, still drinking.

Now that he wasn't completely focused on work, he had to admit, he was hungry.

"Maybe," Lance nodded, "it's probably too early to get excited, but it's possible. With library hours extended for finals week, I won't be able to get down there until next week, so we'll see."

"It's better than nothing," Shiro yawned and rubbed his eyes tiredly, "maybe I will go get some sleep."

"It would save me another call to Allura," Lance said cheekily.

"You're such a brat," Shiro sucked the last of the blood from the pouch and stood, stretching his arms over his head, "try not to get into trouble while I'm asleep."

"I'll do my best," Lance waved him away.

After Shiro disappeared into his room, Lance scooped Sayda up and cuddled her close, "go sit on him and make sure he sleeps."

The cat purred and rubbed her head under his chin, and Lance scratched her cheeks, then set her on the ground. She meowed and trotted off towards Shiro's room.

Lance opened a bag of fried blood cakes and took Shiro's seat at the table, sorting through the papers there. Shiro would want to grade the essays himself, but there was no reason Lance couldn't grade the exams.

Pidge was sleeping with her face smashed against the open pages of a book, her glasses perched on her head. Keith has rescued them when she had fallen asleep, plucking them off her face and putting them on her head.

Keith was hidden behind a wall of books, and Hunk wouldn't have been surprised if he was sleeping too. Hunk found all the paranormal stuff fascinating, and he would love to be able to prove it was real, but he was willing to put that on hold for finals week so he could do things like study, and final projects, and sleep.

Pidge had texted him at three in the morning to tell him that someone had reported hearing voices reciting Shakespeare at the run down theater on 5th street. Hunk had handed his phone to Keith and gone back to sleep, because Keith was still awake, and he was Pidge's brother after all, so if anyone should be talking to her at three in the morning, it should be him.

They would probably go check it out after finals week though. The cemetery had been a bust, and while Keith wanted to go back, the threat of rabid animals had been enough to make Hunk and Pidge wary of it. There was no reason to think Mr. McClain would show up again to help them out.

Speaking of which, Hunk held up his cell phone, trying to make it look like he was looking something up on it, but really, he was trying to get a picture of the head librarian without him noticing. He had been trying since he realized Mr. McClain wasn't in any of the photos they had taken at the cemetery, but he hadn't managed it. Hunk could never say for certain that he hadn't moved out of the frame before the shot.

It was turning out to be very frustrating, and Keith and Pidge thought he was crazy, but there was something strange about the librarian. There just had to be. Normal people were easy to take pictures of.

Hunk snapped the picture and was excited for a moment that Mr. McClain wasn't in it, until he looked up and found that he wasn't standing where he had been either. He sighed in disappointment.

"I thought you finished your final project for your photography class already."

Hunk yelped, nearly falling out of his chair, as a stack of books fell onto the table next to his notebook. Mr. McClain was grinning down at him, his teeth looking a little sharper than they had last time Hunk had bothered to look, which granted, he didn't make a habit of, but they did seem sharp to him.

Pidge jerked upright, glasses falling off her head and drool dried on the side of her mouth, "what's going on? Where's my EMF meter?"

Keith reached around the wall of books to pat her shoulder. Apparently, he had been awake, and he didn't even look up from reading.

"I did," Hunk said in a rush, "I mean I turned it in, but I still think I could have done a few more shots from the zoo, but overall I think it…"

He glanced up and realized Mr. McClain was teasing him.

"It never hurts to keep practicing," Hunk finished.

"Right," Mr. McClain looked like he didn't really believe him, "pass these to your Babylonian obsessed friend down at the end."

"I'm not obsessed!" Keith objected, even as he reached eagerly for the books.

"Says the kid who has taken three classes on it and just applied to be let into the grad level class," Mr. McClain smirked at him.

"How do you know that?" Keith demanded.

"The teachers pass notes to each other in the hall," Mr. McClain deadpanned, "also I've helped you find the resources for the last five papers you've written on it."

"Oh yeah," Keith flipped open the first book, setting it on top of the already open book in front him, "thanks."

"You're welcome," Mr. McClain snorted, "now someone put the shrimp to bed before she drools on all my books."

"Are you calling me short?" Pidge demanded, squinting, then looking around for her glasses.

Keith picked them up off the table where they had fallen and handed them to her without looking up from his book.

"Yes," Mr. McClain said.

"I am not…" Pidge started to protest, only to be interrupted by Keith.

"Don't make him angry," Keith turned the page of his book, "I need him to find me more books."

"I need to teach you how to use a card catalogue, kid," Mr. McClain rolled his eyes.

"I know how to use a card catalogue," Keith finally looked up from his book to scowl at him, "the real question is why you insist on using one when this whole library is catalogued digitally."

"Zombie apocalypse," Lance said without missing a beat, "when civilization as we know it ends, my library will still be well organized."

"Viral or supernatural zombies?" Hunk asked seriously.

"Both," Lance grinned, "not that it matters; I'll know where all my books are."

"It has to be viral," Pidge folded her arms across her chest, "the idea that there could be a supernatural effect on the scale required to cause an apocalypse is just ludicrous."

"Weren't most apocalypses predicted to be supernatural until like 200 years ago?" Keith frowned at her.

"Yes, but now we have science to kill us instead," Mr. McClain said cheerfully.

"Can I vote for nobody dying?" Hunk asked.

"Good luck with that," Mr. McClain patted his shoulder, then went to help a student who looked on the verge of tears because he couldn't reach a book on the top shelf.

"I couldn't get his picture again," Hunk frowned down at his phone.

Pidge yawned and glanced at the unremarkable photo of a bookshelf, "I think it's a lost cause, Hunk. Plus, if you keep it up, he's going to start thinking you're a creepy stalker or something."

"He's just the librarian," Keith shook his head, "he's really good at tracking down sources, but there's nothing weird about him."

"Yes there is," Hunk grumbled under his breath and went back to pouring over his calculus book.

"So did you get them all in?" Lance flopped down on the couch beside Shiro, cup of blood pudding in his hand.

"Yes," Shiro didn't lift his head from where it was resting against the couch back, "remind me again why I keep doing this?"

"You like to torture yourself," Lance kicked his bare feet up on the coffee table.

"No, that's why I keep you around," Shiro smirked.

"See if I share my pudding with you," Lance made a show of licking his spoon.

"You never share your pudding," Shiro nudged him with his shoulder.

"You always give me reasons not to," Lance shrugged.

"I'd be offended if I had the energy," Shiro slumped a little harder against Lance, trying to push him over.

Lance patted his head and ate another spoonful of pudding.

"Don't you have work to do now that finals are over?" Shiro grumbled.

"I do," Lance nodded cheerfully, "I wanted to make sure the students hadn't killed you yet. Also pudding."

Shiro narrowed his eyes and without warning, dug his fingers into Lance's side, cackling when Lance shrieked with laughter and dropped his spoon.

"Not the pudding!" he tried to hold the cup out of Shiro's reach.

They tumbled off the couch, landing on the floor with a thump, and Shiro managed to snatch the pudding cup from Lance, scrambling back and using his finger to scoop out what was left of the pudding.

"That's cheating!" Lance laughed.

"That's what you get for being stingy with the pudding," Shiro grinned at him.

While Shiro and Lance continued to poke at each other, Sayda gave them an aloof look and daintily licked the spoon clean.

Keith swore he didn't snore. Hunk had even videotaped him snoring once and shown it to him, and he had still denied it, claiming that he had had a cold, so it didn't count.

Pidge had told Hunk Keith had been in denial about it since he was eight.

He was snoring away now, one arm hanging over the edge of the top bunk and blankets kicked off on the floor.

Hunk shook his head in amusement and picked up the blanket, tossing it back over Keith and pushing his arm back onto the bunk so his hand wouldn't fall asleep.

They had all passed their classes, but Keith and Pidge had insisted on going on a ghost hunt mid-week and ended up having to scramble to get everything done. Hunk had passed on that particular hunt, and not been sad about it when the two of them had come back with no evidence, sticky, and covered in feathers. He had decided it was best not to ask.

A phone chirped, and Hunk glanced over to see a text from Pidge on Keith's phone. He glanced at Keith, but he didn't even stir. The text said Pidge had another lead on a supposedly haunted convenience store. Hunk looked at Keith again, snoring away, and picked up his own phone to answer her.

He told Pidge Keith was asleep, and she probably should be asleep too, and whatever it was, the ghosts weren't going to disappear between now and next weekend.

Pidge's grumpy response told Hunk that she really did need sleep. He told her as much and got an even grumpier response. He texted back feathers.

It was a couple minutes before she replied. When she did, Hunk had to grin. It was a true talent to get that much sullenness across in a text message. She said she was going to take a nap.

Hunk glanced at Keith, then to his camera where it was sitting on his desk. The library was still open, and it wouldn't hurt to go do some research on the site Pidge said she wanted to look at.

And if Mr. McClain was there, then maybe he could finally get a photo of him.

Or not.

Hunk wasn't sure what would be better, but he was going to keep trying until he found out.