Second to last chapter! I'm going to finish this up literally the day before season 7 comes out, because inevitably that will change this entire story in one way or another, and I'd rather that not happen. Enjoy!
Lance was shimmying his way down the hall, humming a random tune as he went. It had happened again: the thing where it's time for dinner, and Pidge said she'd be there, but she hadn't shown up. He knew she hadn't meant to skip out— she'd probably been so focused on her work that it had slipped her mind.
A dopey grin came onto his face, and he chuckled. Pidge was always working so hard on the new Galra finder, and he always had to remind her to take care of herself. She never did, though, which meant that he always had to step in.
Lance moved into a brief step sequence, then twirled, careful to keep the plate he'd piled with food steady as he did so. He loved their little routine. Every day it was the same way.
Wake up. Go to breakfast early and grab her favorite muffins before they got eaten up. Wait for her to arrive, knowing that his heart would jump the second she walked through the door. Tease her about how sleepy she was in the mornings. Hand her the muffin, go make coffee for her (one cream, two and a half sugars exactly).
After breakfast, they'd go to their daily debriefing. Usually at that point, Pidge was awake enough to talk. Sit through the meeting, occasionally tapping her foot with his and grinning when she'd send him a weak glare. Split up for whatever they were assigned to— drills, training, strategy meetings, overseeing the ship building, etc.
Count down the minutes until lunch time. Go find her inevitably caught up in her work, briefly argue about how she wouldn't lose track of what she was working on, go down to lunch and listen to her chatter on about her latest project. Eat lunch with Hunk and Keith— usually everyone else was busy because they were higher up, but sometimes Shiro and Matt would join them.
Before she'd leave to return to her tasks, he'd always make some joke about how she should skip out and join him, instead. She'd roll her eyes and turn before he could see her smile…or at least that's what he let her think. He always saw her smile. It's what made him do it every single day.
The afternoons would pass painfully slow, but it only made him more excited to see her. And of course, she'd never show up for dinner (it used to hurt, until he realized that it was just how she was). And just like right now, he'd have to take it upon himself to get her dinner and take it down to her hangar.
This was usually one of the best parts of their routine— it was just them. Sure, sometimes Hunk or Coran would wander in, but they never stayed for more than a couple minutes. It left Lance time to admire Pidge in silence, watching her work and occasionally asking questions if he couldn't figure something out (which, admittedly, was most of the time). It was peaceful, quiet, and the perfect way to end every single day.
And then, his favorite part would come.
Every night, after some convincing, he'd walk her back to her room. And every night, they'd stop and say goodnight before they parted ways. And every night, her eyes would flicker to his lips.
Lance sighed happily. If only Pidge knew what she did to him. He wanted to tell her, he really did. But lately he felt all silly and nervous around her. Everything she did made him go crazy, but he couldn't figure out how on Earth to tell her.
His mind went back to two weeks ago when she ran a thumb over his lip. He stifled a giggle. Quiznak, he'd wanted her to just kiss him. He knew she'd wanted to— she had that look in her eyes, the look he knew he gave her all the time. It was the one filled with desire and want and need and unbearable longing that could only be satisfied by each other.
A warm fluttery feeling entered his body, and his heart squeezed. He couldn't wait to see her tonight. Maybe she'd have one of those cute grease stains on her nose like she did every now and then. He always liked wiping those off, mainly because she'd always snicker and push him away after he did it.
Lance turned the corner in a daze, his mind on Pidge and Pidge alone. Which is probably why he was startled so bad when he heard someone yelp his name.
He halted immediately, making sure he kept the plate in his hands. His eyes took in the scene, and he laughed. "Oh, sorry, Allura! My head's in the clouds."
The princess gaped at him. "L-Lance, it's…quite alright," she assured him. Her voice was slow for some reason.
Lance's head tilted. "Are you okay, Allura?"
"Yes!" she answered immediately. "I am, ah, fine. And yourself?"
"Fine?" he replied, his voice pitching up out of confusion. She was acting weird— why was that? Internally, he shrugged. Sometimes Alteans were just difficult to figure out. He knew he'd had more than one miscommunication with Coran before, and even more so with Romelle when she first joined the team.
But Allura was giving him a unsure look. "That's good," she nodded. "Are you…acclimating back to home well?"
Lance brightened. "Oh, definitely! It's been so nice to be back."
There was an awkward pause. Lance couldn't figure it out— why was she acting so strange?
Then, after peering at him for a few more seconds, Allura's shoulders dropped. She smiled approvingly. "You seem happier, now, Lance."
He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Well, after our, um—" she cleared her throat, "—conversation, you were rather put out. But now you have returned to your usual self."
"Huh," Lance blinked. "I hadn't even realized it."
The princess clasped her hands together. "Yes, well…I'm glad you're better, Lance."
He smiled. "Thanks, Allura. I'd stay and chat, but—" he held up the plate in his hands, "Duty calls."
"Of course," she nodded understandingly, though her eyes did show some puzzlement. She must not have known about Pidge's habit of accidentally skipping dinner. "See you around?"
"Yup, see ya!"
With that, Lance simply kept walking. As he continued his journey, his brain began to process what just happened. That was…fine. Just fine. Normal. Easy. He hadn't felt a bit nervous around her. Didn't feel a need to prove himself. No thought of flirting came to mind.
Wait…did that mean—
The realization hit him, and Lance stopped, his eyes going wide.
He was over her.
Lance wanted to burst out laughing. Wow, he really was stupid sometimes. How long had he been completely okay around her? Allura didn't phase him anymore— it was like it had just happened slowly over time, and he didn't even notice.
The young man blinked, a wide grin beginning to grow on his face. He began walking again, faster, and faster, until he was practically running. He had to tell Pidge! Quiznak, he had to tell her right now! They could finally be together!
Lance rounded the final corner to her hangar. He caught a glimpse of her through the window. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest.
"Okay, Lance," he said to himself, then took in a deep breath. "Just walk in and tell her. It'll be easy. Yeah, totally easy. It's Pidge, she'll be happy to hear it."
His pep talk must have taken too long— either that, or Pidge had eyes in the back of her head. Either way, she'd turned in her chair, glanced at him, rolled her eyes, and spun back around to her work.
A nervous flutter ran through him, and with that, Lance walked in. "Geez, what did I do to deserve that look?" he questioned when the door shut behind him.
He noticed one of her hands move to rub her temples. "Lance, you know I can never focus with you around," she grumbled.
Lance came around her station, immediately noticing that regardless of her annoyed tone, her eyes were lit up brightly. Maybe it was him, maybe it was the food, maybe it was both. He didn't care— he liked seeing her that way. Pidge made a scene of sighing loudly before she motioned for him to sit across from her.
Smiling proudly, Lance did as he was told. He settled down in his usual place, then pushed the plate toward her expectantly. Pidge grabbed the fork from his hand and dove into the food, all the while looking over the numbers that flooded her screen.
"Honestly, I don't know how you survived all these years without me," Lance commented.
Pidge shot him a look he couldn't interpret. "Me neither."
Quiznak, he both loved and hated how their words sometimes had double meanings. It made him feel all jittery, like they were constantly beating around the bush in an endless game of tag.
"You're staring."
Lance tilted his head. "And?" he asked, settling his chin into his hands. "I always watch you work."
Pidge's eyes met his briefly. "You're staring more than usual."
Lance shrugged. "Maybe. 's hard not to."
He watched as her face reddened. She didn't reply, and he smiled softly. He loved it when she got flustered. He couldn't wait until he could do that every single day…and for her to do it to him in return. During their few stolen moments a couple weeks ago, he'd seen her do it before. It always stung a bit that she wouldn't return his teasing now, but he knew why. She was protecting herself, like she always did. She'd let her guard down in those times, and now it was back up again.
Lance brought himself back to the present. Pidge was refocused on her work. He scanned it over, finding that as usual, he had no idea what any of it meant.
"What are the blue thingies?"
"Subroutines. I'm trying to reroute them."
Lance hummed. "Why?"
"Because if I don't, the Galra finder won't be dialed in enough to locate anything," Pidge answered. "Right now, it's trying to search all of space, when we only need it to search the quadrants that we know the Galra occupy."
He thought it over. "So…then it'll work faster because it won't have as much information to process, right?"
Pidge nodded. "That's the idea."
"Then why do you need to reroute the subroutines?" he questioned. "If you know you don't need them, then just get rid of them altogether. That'll speed it up even more, won't it?"
She gave him an amused look. "Well I can't do that because—" Pidge froze. "Wait…hold on, you might be onto something. If I delete them, that'll provide space for the Garrison modulation sequencing!" she gasped. "Lance, you're a genius!"
Lance leaned back in his chair and smiled. "What can I say? You're a good teacher."
Pidge shook her head. "I never thought you were actually listening. I thought you just hated the silence."
He chuckled. "That, and I like hearing it from you," he winked.
"You're impossible," she sighed, but there was a tiny smile on her lips.
"Impossibly awesome," Lance corrected cheekily.
Pidge laughed, and his heart skipped a beat. With that, she returned to her work. Lance let her continue in silence, occasionally checking his watch. It was getting late, and he knew they had a busy day tomorrow. There was no way he'd let her pull an all-nighter like she did last week. She'd missed training because of that, and he'd nearly worried himself sick over it.
Lance gave her a few more minutes, then cleared his throat.
Pidge startled out of her zoned in state. "What?"
He held up his watch for her to see. "It's time for you to get to bed."
She rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine, I just need a couple more hours, and—"
"And miss training again?" Lance questioned. "Not gonna happen."
Pidge frowned up at him. "But I won't remember where I left off!"
Lance chuckled. She always said that. He leaned over, pushed the save button on her computer, then shut it down. "You always do, Pidge. Come on, it's sleepy time."
She stuck her tongue out, but followed him out of the hangar nonetheless. Her steps were slower than usual, and Lance made sure to adjust his long strides to accommodate for her. Pidge yawned, then wiped her eyes tiredly.
"You okay?" Lance asked.
She sighed. "Just tired. I might have snuck out of my room last night after you walked me back."
He frowned. "Pidge, you shouldn't do that. You know you need all the rest you can get."
"I know, but my brain wouldn't shut off," Pidge grumbled. She stumbled a bit, and Lance placed a steadying hand on her back. She shot him a grateful look, then frowned. "You need to worry less. I'm getting plenty of sleep, I promise."
They'd reached her room. The halls were empty, and for that, Lance was thankful. He reached out and brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes.
"You know I can't not worry about you," he murmured.
A sleepy smile came onto her face. "I know."
And there it was— her eyes flickered to his lips.
Lance's brain was screaming at him to tell her. He wanted to, he really did. But then she yawned again, and he knew it'd have to wait. It needed to be special; if he told her now, who knew if she'd remember the next day. She'd probably think it had been a dream.
Still, he couldn't help but break their routine a little bit. Usually he would resist, but tonight Lance pulled her into his arms and squeezed her as tight as he could.
"Goodnight, Pidge," he whispered against her hair.
One of her hands stroked down his back. "Goodnight, Lance."
He walked away planning a thousand ways of how he could tell her.