Misfire

Lance had to be stopped. That was what Pidge realised as she reached for her headphones, finding them once again missing. With a scything glare to it's usual resting spot, her phone was absent as well. She began to silently fume. What Lance didn't realise is that like any hacker worth their salt, Pidge would always leave a back door to her tech. With a dextrous wiggle of her fingers, clicking the joints and finally her neck, a malevolent grin materialised. Laptop open, sugar and caffeine enhanced food goo beside her, her fingers danced over the keys. With every clattering stroke, her smile grew more eerily wide, each rasping chuckle more insidious than the last...

"You'll be sorry you ever touched my stuff, McClain..." For a moment, a more rational version of her thinking took over from the tired manic side. "I mean... I suppose I did let you borrow them... Wait, why did I let you borrow them...?" She shook her head, "Not important. What is important..." The side of her that should probably have been asleep five hours ago was back at the helm, "Is finding a way to make him suffer..." She paused, "Well, suffer just a little anyway..."


Lance was doing what he might call getting his groove on. Coran, watching with a mixture of curiosity and concern, was trying to figure out if this was an attempt to loosen a particularly well embedded piece of underwear or a previously unobserved human mating ritual. Lance had plenty of those, but usually they were vocalised... As if responding to his thoughts, the grooving and moving turned to an assault upon the ears. Definitely a mating ritual, Coran decided with a nod, or at least practice for one.

"Aaaah, jus' wanna tell yoou what I'm feeeeelin!" Lance crooned, putting way too much effort into the song, "Try to make you, understand! Never gonna give..." His rhythm was suddenly cut short as he looked to the phone bewildered. He stared for a little longer and swiped his thumb to the left with a shrug. He took in a deep breath, "Never gonna give..." He found himself confounded once again, staring at the phone and scratching his head. Lance pulled down the ever borrowed green headphones and looked to Coran who now busied himself pretending to clean. "I need a second opinion, help me out here..."

"Well..." Coran rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, "I was pretty sure you were going to dislocate both your hips. Is that what you were aiming for? Wouldn't that make things a lot more difficult for you if the ritual succeeded...?" Coran paused, "Though, I suppose with the right technique..."

Lance had blanked the elder Altean by now and had just started playing the track again, without headphones.

Coran stared to Lance, "This can't be the same song you were trying to sing a second ago..."

"Hush!" Lance hissed, "I need to know I'm not hearing this..."

"Never Gonna give Ba-Choo! up! Never gonna let Ba-Choo! down. Never gonna..."

"There!" Lance paused the song, "You heard those, right?"

Coran shrugged, "Well, it's certainly different...? Is bachoo a term of endearment...? You humans are an odd bunch."

"It's not part of the song Coran!"

"I'm pretty sure I heard it in the song, Lance. I may well have had a very premature case of the slipperies, but I'm nowhere near so old that the ears have gone kaput. It was definitely part of the song. Actually, I think I've gone and got it stuck in my head..." He hummed the tune, "Yep, that's going to be there until at least next quintant..."

Lance grumbled, finding another song at random, "Coran, I'm telling you, it's weird and not part of the original song..." He skipped ahead a little, "I want to see if it's anywhere else..."

The phone played, "Y'know it's Ba-Choo! Everything I Ba-Choo! I Ba-Choo! It for Ba-Choo!"

Coran nodded, clearly impressed, "I had no idea the word bachoo was so polysemic... Or that Pidge's taste in music was so... Odd..."

"She's got petabytes on here, no way she listens to even half of it..." Lance hammered his thumb for another random song, tapping to find where lyrics would most probably pop up, "Alright... Once is weird, twice is freaky, three times...? That's just strange..."

"Not sure that quite follows the scale of progression you think it does..." Coran quietly mumbled.

"...uust the Ba-Choo! Of us... We can make it if we try, just the Ba-Choo! Of us... Ba-Choo! And I..." Another random song at another random point, "Ba-choo! And me baby ain't nothin' but mammals..." Another desperately selected song, "...just Ba-Choo! good to be Ba-Choo! Can't take my eye's off of Ba-Choo!" Another, growing fury rising, "...aybe, the one who is waiting for Ba-Choo! Will prove Ba-Choo!, Then what will Ba-Choo! Ba-Choo!" Lance found himself chuckling, skipping to another song, "And I-eee-I-eee-Iiiii will always love Ba-Choo!" His light chuckle turning to a soft laugh, "I like me better when I'm with Ba-Choo!" Finally, Lance had succumb to the music, wiping a tear from his eye.

"You alright, lad...?" Coran paled, watching as Lance wandered away, headphones back in place and laughing madly to himself, "I think the poor boy's finally cracked..." He twiddled at his moustache in thought, "Or maybe I have...?"


Pidge smirked, noticing that the headphones were resting on his stupid head. He can't have noticed yet. She could see it all unfold. Sneaking into the communal area, watching him lounge and luxuriate on the sofa. His arms outstretched to either side, his head resting gently on the plush fabric. He looked so peaceful, eyes gently closed and the hint of a smile on his lips... His gentle breathing, watching, gazing, the steady rise and fall of his toned torso beneath such soft fabric. Pidge caught herself, frowning away those odd and errant thoughts. Far too much analysis. The most important thing was that surely soon... Soon... Soon...? Her frown deepened, furrowed, a frustrated little groan. Lance meanwhile, laughed. It wasn't as though she hated the sound of it, but it wasn't at all what she was expecting... His eyes flickered open, Pidge stood stunned, caught in those azure headlights.

Lance grinned, tapping at the headphones. He raised a single finger, the universally accepted gesture of hold on a tick with one hand and with the other, urged Pidge closer. She cautiously complied as Lance removed her headphones, letting the music play into the stillness and quiet of the room. He sang, or screeched perhaps, along. "Aaah love Ba-Choo!" His face exaggeratedly twisting around the laser noise, "...Baby and if it's quite alright, I need Ba-Choo! Baby..." Teasingly touching outstretched fingers to her chin, "...to warm the lonely nights..."

Pidge stabbed the phone with a firm finger, silencing it. To Lance's observation, he wasn't sure how much was anger in her face and how much was something very unexpected, "Don't tell me you're enjoying it!?" She snapped.

Lance gave her one of his trademark grin-smirks with a hint of a kind smile in his eyes, "Course I am. Adds a little new twist to old favourites... Like a fun little sub-genre..." He forced back a snort of laughter, "Rhythm and Ba-Choos!"

Pidge silently seethed. She hadn't written a program to replace those words just so Lance would enjoy it. Dumb dopey smile...

"Besides, every song with a word that rhymes with ooo..." His smile turned to one of genuine warmth, "I'm reminded of you..."

"Just give me back my quiznaking phone, Lance..." Pidge grumbled, averting her gaze.

Lance handed it all over, waving her off as she stormed back to her room. Things were quiet again, Lance realised with a sad sigh. He began to softly near silently sing to himself, "Wise men say...only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with..." He smiled, "...Ba-Choo..."