A/N:For raelee514 and Mako1, who very sweetly left me reviews for the second chapter. Thank you both! I hope you like this chapter as well. :)
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Pidge winced. The dull pain that had been building behind his eyeballs all evening was finally blooming into a full-fledged headache. He took off his glasses and rubbed tiredly at his grainy eyes. Yeah, that wasn't going to cut it. Carefully replacing the glasses, he glanced at the holo-board all of his calculations were on. It was gnawing at him, this feeling that one of his equations was incorrect, and he kept going over and over the numbers in his head. All the math seemed right, and non-Euclidean geometry was child's play to him. As a matter of fact, it had been- he'd sailed right through his instructor's texts on it at the ripe old age of seven. He still couldn't shake the feeling he'd gone wrong somewhere.
Standing and stretching, Pidge looked around the small area he'd appropriated in the control room, mentally checking that everything was in its correct place. His eyes fell on the bank of surveillance monitors, and he smiled. Camera One down on the first sub level showed Hunk and the cadets looking around furtively as they carted several full boxes of equipment in the direction of the catacombs. They thought they were being so covert, but it was starting to be a bit of an open secret that the big guy was helping them create their own lair. Cameras Two, Three and Four showed nothing more interesting than the night shift of Arusian Defense Forces patrolling corridors and weapons bays. Camera Five showed Keith where he usually was in his free time lately, the gym. Pidge noted with interest that he had the combat sim with Lotor dialed all the way up- huh. The commander must be frustrated about something. Seven showed Coran in the communications room, speaking seriously to a somber-looking blue female via hologram. Camera Eight, down in the kitchen, showed Lance doing his best to empty the cooks' stock of pastries, his booted feet propped on a tabletop and various confections arrayed around him.
Pidge grinned. For a guy with such a sweet tooth, it was a wonder Lance's real teeth hadn't rotted right out of his head. And it was a damned good thing Nanny had retired- if she had caught him, she'd have twisted one of his ears right off his head. Oh- uh oh. Allura was on Camera Nine, which was in the corridor leading to the kitchens. "Busted," he murmured to the screen. Lance was so going to hear it from the princess. She'd been on all of them to eat better lately.
Forgetting his headache for the moment, Pidge settled in to watch, wondering just how bad Allura was going to tear Lance a new one.
"Oh gods," Lance groaned, licking the dusting of powdered sugar off his fingers. Whatever that last pastry had been, it was delicious. He quickly surveyed the platter on the table next to him for more, but there had apparently only been one. "Damn," he muttered, reaching instead for what looked like an éclair, filling oozing temptingly out the side. "Hey!"
Allura smiled with dark satisfaction as Lance almost toppled over when she slapped his hand, upsetting his balance on the hind legs of his chair. "Those," she said imperiously, "were not for you."
Putting on his best wounded expression, Lance tipped his head backwards and gazed at her upside down. "They were just sitting there, Allura. If they're not for us, then who are they for?"
Nudging him forward so that he set the chair down correctly, she moved around him to perch a hip on the countertop. "They're for a family in Altair, as a matter of fact. They just had the first surviving set of quadruplets in twenty years, Lance." She frowned at him. "And you just ate part of their congratulations basket." Craning her neck, she took stock of the inventory on the table. "Quite a big part, if I'm not mistaken."
"Aw, how was I supposed to know?" he pouted. "There weren't any signs or anything. Geez, you'd think with Hunk in the castle, they'd lock up the food at night or something."
"Unlike some other pilots I know, Hunk only takes the food marked 'Garrett' from the refrigerator." Allura folded her arms over her night dress. "It's on the same shelf as the food marked 'McClain.'"
"Yeah, well the cooks have been laying out some pretty unappetizing stuff lately," he replied, looking longingly at a heavily glazed doughnut. "Fish. Bean sprouts. Grilled mushrooms." He made a face. "Kale! I hate kale."
Allura rolled her eyes. All of the boys, less Keith, had been giving her a hard time about the healthier food the cooks had been serving them lately. What she'd failed to say yet was that it had all been her idea, one she'd had when Keith had made an offhanded insult to Lance and Hunk about going up a few sizes in their uniforms. "Keith brought up a very good point, Lance. All of us have gotten pretty out of shape, and the diet you, Hunk and Pidge lived on with the GA consisted of three food groups- fried, salted, and sugary."
Holding up a long finger, Lance grinned. "Forgot the fourth food group. Booze. Don't forget the booze. Essential for good mental health."
Allura snorted. "Exactly my point. Anyway, I know Keith is going to be implementing group physical training, and I figured it was the perfect time to get you boys eating well again." She readjusted the neckline of her gown absently, momentarily baring a long expanse of neck and chest. "And I don't care if you hate kale or not. It's good for you, and if I have to sit on you and shove it down your throat, I will." With a wrinkle of her nose, Allura looked pointedly at the table. "Because at this rate, Daniel will be piloting the Red Lion in a few years while you recover from a heart attack."
One eyebrow rose in interest as Allura accidentally flashed a good portion of her chest at him while she fixed her nightgown. Nothing really naughty, of course, but still- a guy could always wish. Lance cleared his throat as she started to yammer on about kale, and she just had to go and throw in some imagery of her sitting on him and feeding him for good measure. Evil woman, Lance thought with relish, picturing a scenario involving Allura, pastries, and assisted eating.
"Are you even listening to me?" Allura snapped when she caught the faraway look in his eyes. "Lance?" Striking out, she kicked the leg of his chair lightly with her foot. "Lance!"
"Huh?" He snapped back to reality. "Yeah, got it. Kale, good. Keith, training. Lance, bad. I've heard this one before, Allura, you don't have to repeat it."
Shaking her head, Allura began to clear the table, methodically reassembling the pastry platter as best as she could. "Maybe I should just tell Cook that we'll all be going vegetarian." She smiled at the look of utter horror on his face. "Or you could just promise to lay off the sweets and start trying more vegetables at dinner."
He could just picture the abomination of a meal without good old fashioned meat. Lance shuddered. "Okay, okay, I'll eat your stupid kale," he capitulated with a childish sigh that sent his chestnut hair puffing up for a moment. "Happy?"
"Thrilled," she replied placidly. "Now help me clean this up and get it put away. If Cook found out you ate half the Scaratos' platter, she'll spit in your food for a month."
They worked together in silence for a moment before he asked, "You don't really think she'd spit in my food, do you?"
Allura turned to grin at him and discovered Lance had risen to help her put the platter back on the main work surface when she smacked face first into his chest. "Oof!" One of his big hands came up to steady her, wrapping around her elbow, fingers long and warm and calloused on the delicate skin on the inside of her arm. She blinked at the nervous, fizzy feeling tingling its way through her belly.
"Steady on there, Allura," Lance murmured, catching her arm to help her balance when she bounced off him, platter tilting precariously in her grasp. "I've got you." She looked like she'd checked out for a minute there. "Hello, anyone in there? Wake up, sweetheart." When Allura blinked big green eyes at him, a frisson of awareness shot through him like a laser blast. Lance thought he'd done a pretty good job over the years of hiding how he felt about her, had even convinced himself that it was just love for a comrade mingling with admiration for a good ruler and lust for a rocking body and face. It'd been pretty easy to talk himself into believing it- after all, who else had to face such a potent triple threat? It was a natural reaction, one that anybody would have in his situation. Still, every now and then, something would happen that would shove his feelings right in his face.
Something like this.
Lance swallowed once, hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, a sight Allura found far more fascinating than she should. It was just an Adam's apple, she told herself- she was virtually surrounded with them in her life. Aside from Larmina and some of the castle staff, she spent entirely too much time around men. Men with smelly feet, who thought napkins were for balling up, that belching could make a game and that eating was a competitive sport. Lance was guilty of all those things. He also had a very fascinating Adam's apple, which was currently bobbing nervously as he stared down at her.
"Thanks," she croaked finally, remembering the platter in her hand and gripping it firmly, using it as an excuse to break eye contact and step around him. Busying herself with putting the pastries away gave her the time she needed to recompose herself. "Anyways, I want you to give Cook's creations a try. They're really delicious if you give them a chance."
He made a ridiculous face, sticking his tongue out like a child. "But vegetables, Allura? Yech. What are you trying to do, kill me? My digestive system wouldn't know what to do with vegetables." He appreciated her efforts to lighten the strangely tense atmosphere and was perfectly okay with going along with it.
Allura smiled. "Would it make you feel better if I have them serve beer with your vegetables?"
"Don't make me kiss you," Lance quipped. "Beer makes everything better." Damn. And suddenly things were strange again, all big, blinking eyes and furtive glances and squirming stomachs. Lance could have kicked himself. Instead, he straightened up and took the coward's path for a change. "Okay, well good night then. Tell the Scarpettos congrats and all, and sorry I ate their delicious, fantastic desserts."
The urge to roll her eyes was nearly overwhelming. "Scaratos, Lance. Sca-Ra-Tos. And given your -shall we say- taste testing, I think it would be nice if you were there helping Larmina and me deliver this tomorrow."
"Aw, come on, Allura! You know I wanted to take Red out for some calibration and target practice," he groaned. "Can't Keith do it? He loves all that glad-handing stuff. I feel slimy doing it, like I'm trying to bribe people into liking me."
She shook her head. "They like you just fine, Lance. The Voltron Force are all heroes to the people of our planet. But serving those people and their communities isn't just my responsibility; when you accepted our offer of Arusian citizenship, it became your responsibility too." Allura gave him a pat on the shoulder. "So I'll see you bright and early out in the courtyard."
As she walked out of the kitchen, the skirt of her nightgown swishing behind her, Lance took the opportunity to admire the view. "Yes, mother!" he called out after her, earning him a tinkling laugh from Allura as she continued on her way.
Pidge smirked as he turned away from the bank of security monitors. Looked like the next time Lance teased him about his music, he'd have some fresh ammunition to get back at him with.
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed it and remember- reviews are love! :)