#I have a nice enough felt of sort of the right color for keith's coat but I've had issues with that not looking very nice so far

[chiropteracupola]

feeling thoroughly worn down by my inability to find nice fabric suited to the things I want to use it for

[pandawriterstuff]

Pineswallow Ranch

Monty, at only eleven years, three months and four days, had been to many parts of the world, traveling with his mother. She was a corporate lawyer, and was called to all corners to use her intelligence and skill at finding the exact information that was needed to crush the competition.

Monty, being a little boy, was, of course, not wanted in either the board meetings or the more secretive dealings that were necessary when people were not as cooperative as they needed to be. Long days of nailing bottom lines and ferreting out inefficiencies exhausted his mother most dreadfully, and so when she would collapse in their suite, begging Monty to not chatter quite so loud because Mother’s head ached, and wouldn’t he like to watch a nice movie with her? quietly? it was perfectly understandable and he would always do his best, cuddling up with her as they watched musicals and cartoons.

But it meant that despite having been to many more parts of the world than the average eleven year old, he had seen almost none of it. Hotel rooms, airports, lobbies, and far more drop-in daycare centers than he cared to remember were where he’d spent the bulk of his existence.

It was lonely, a lot of the time. But it was what he knew. And he had Mother, and his lessons, and even a few email friends he’d managed to keep in touch with.

But Monty had started to think that maybe it wasn’t enough. Of course, by the time he’d realized that, Mother, always ten steps ahead, had not only realized that this was a problem, but had found a solution. Or at least what she thought was a solution. Monty was not at all sure.

“Your Uncle Keith lives in a rural town, but they have some of the highest test scores in the county, so you won’t have to worry about falling behind. And he has horses, Monty, a whole stable of them, and I know you love to ride.” Monty, currently not speaking to his mother, was sitting on the balcony of yet another hotel suite staring down at the unnaturally blue water of the pool, lips resolutely shut.

His arms weren’t crossed, because Mother would say he was pouting if they were, and he wasn’t pouting.

Even though he would have very good reason to if he did. His mother was sending him away. “I am not going to keep talking to your back, so if you’re going to be this stubborn I’m going to go inside and finish packing. When you calm down we can decide what to get for dinner and pick out something to watch.”

“I don’t want to watch anything with you.” The words snapped out of him, possibly more hard and vicious than words ever had before, and Monty heard his mother’s intake of breath, heard the way it caught a little. It didn’t matter, because he wasn’t sorry, his hands clenching down on the cast iron arms of the chair, cold against his fingers. He wasn’t sorry, because she should be the one who was sorry, and she wasn’t-or maybe she was, and still wouldn’t change her mind, and Monty thought that might be worse.

“Okay, then.” The balcony door shut slowly, as if she were waiting for him to change his mind, to run to her, but Monty just stared down at the pool, willing his eyes to stay dry.

He slumped, his head sagging down, once he heard her footsteps padding back across the hotel room that had been his for a week now and into the main part of the suite. Now he felt guilty, as well as angry, and it was an unpleasant combination that made his stomach feel like it had a stone in it. Monty couldn’t say Mother had been entirely wrong in her earlier arguments, that traveling around the way she did kept him from having so many things other boys did; a school, a bedroom, classmates and friends. Having a pet of any type was impossible the way they traveled, or even most large possessions. He’d never even had a real first day of school, though he’d dealt with schoolyard bully types a few times anyway.

But he didn’t want to leave Mother, didn’t want to leave the only thing he knew to go live in a tiny town with an uncle he hadn’t even seen in three years!

Not even for horses.

*****

Three days later, when they arrived at Uncle Keith’s ranch, Monty wished he hadn’t spent so much time being upset with Mother. He hadn’t really expected to, after all. Ordinarily when he was angry or displeased about something his feelings would calm with time, and sometimes he would feel foolish for being so upset over something that truly did look better in the morning-or as Mother liked to say, with thought and contemplation. But each morning Monty would wake up feeling just as sour and small and confused as he had the day before. It is hard to not be angry as well when you have a jumble of feelings like that stretching from your toes to at least up to your eyeballs, and easier to let yourself than trying to figure out some other way to feel about it.

But now they were here, standing outside the sprawling ranch house with the startling steep mountains behind them, and horses of all colors in a paddock near a real barn. It should have been amazing, awe-inspiring, but his mother would be leaving in a few days and none of it was. Mother’s hand found his shoulder, squeezing lightly as Monty looked around, not sure if he wanted to be interested in the rock and herb garden arranged around the wide front porch or not. “Your uncle’s probably inside, getting lunch ready. Let’s go knock, shall we?”

“Yes, Mother.” Only Monty didn’t move, leaning slightly into her touch, and after just a moment he found himself swooped into a tight hug, Mother’s cheek pressing into the top of his head, and he gripped her back just as tightly, wishing they could get back in the rental car and drive to a hotel, to anywhere, as long as he got to stay with her.

“Well, hey now! You got here earlier than I was expecting!” The loud voice broke up Monty’s reverie, and he turned his head to stare at the tall man in a red and blue flannel shirt that looked like something Superboy would wear as Conner Kent, slowly pulling away from Mother as she laughed.

“I think you might have forgotten to look at a clock, we’re here at noon, exactly as specified.” Monty studied his uncle, not sure if he should speak up or not. It had been almost three years since he’d seen his mother’s younger brother, though he knew his mother emailed him a lot, and sometimes she’d tell him a story about something that happened on the ranch, or tell him Uncle Keith liked a drawing or story of his she’d shared. Right now he seemed like a stranger. A stranger Monty was supposed to live with for at least a year.

‘Only a year to start out with,’ Mother had said, ‘and if you don’t like it we’ll figure out something else.’ As though that were a short period of time. Maybe, Monty thought, looking at the llama patterned socks Uncle Keith had worn out onto the porch, it was to an adult, but when you’d only been around for eleven years, three months and one week a year was a very long time indeed.

Adults never seemed to think about things like that. It was exceedingly frustrating.

Looking up again, he saw that Uncle Keith was giving him an indulgent sort of smile, having caught him in his examination, and Mother gave him a nudge in the direction of the porch before he could regroup. “I hope you guys are hungry, I’ve got chilli heating up and grilled cheese ready to toast on the griddle. C’mon in, just take off your shoes or Miss Maisie will never let me hear the end of it.”

Letting Mother push him lightly towards the porch, Monty cast another glance at the corral, his eyes lighting on a horse whose coat was like snowfall speckled over dark loam. As he stared, the horse’s head turned and for just a moment Monty would swear they locked eyes, his breath leaving him in a gasp. It felt like the horse knew him better than anyone ever had or ever could in that moment.

Perhaps, he thought, as his feet reached the porch steps and Mother chided him to remember his surroundings before he fell, there might be a few perks to living here.

Part 2

[abadoodlesss]

Voltron - More Than A Prisoner - Chapter Three

Read previous chapters Here.

Next: Chapter Four 

Summary: Bella is adjusting to life as Voltron’s prisoner, making a few new friends as well as continuing to make Shiro her enemy.

Three days had gone by since Shiro dragged Bella back to her cell after the second interrogation. She had been confined to her cell since then.

As one could imagine, there wasn’t much to do. Bella spent the majority of her time pacing around the cell or sitting in various locations. All she could do was sit and think, perhaps talk to herself but she couldn’t bring herself to do it yet without feeling silly or just downright crazy.

It was strange. At least when she was a prisoner on Lotor’s ship there was always something to do: be afraid. Bella was constantly terrified that the Galra Prince would finally figure out what he was to do with her. He had visited her a handful of times, letting her know who was in charge, who controlled her fate, who to be afraid of. And she was. Lotor horrified her. He was dominant, a ruler, people listened to him and he didn’t take well to disobedience. Every time Bella was around the prince it felt like she was walking a tightrope. The second she made a wrong move she would fall down to the depths below.

With the paladins, no matter how intimidating Shiro (and consequently Keith) tried to be, she wasn’t afraid. The paladins wouldn’t hurt her, she was sure. Shiro may talk a big game and try to scare Bella but he’d already proven he wasn’t going to hurt her. He had plenty of chances to just kill her, but he didn’t. He had been rough with her but Bella knew he was just trying to assert dominance. Besides, whatever Shiro could dole out, she had already experienced ten-fold from the Galra. Being a prisoner of Voltron wasn’t so bad.

The paladins themselves weren’t so bad either. Bella became well acquainted with Lance in the past few days. He had insisted that he bring down meals to Bella and he always stayed to chat for as long as he could. Bella knew he felt pity for her but genuinely wanted to be her friend, which she appreciated. It was nice to have someone to talk to, even if only for a few minutes at a time.

Bella also got the chance to meet Hunk. He and Pidge came down with Lance two days ago. Pidge didn’t stay long. She introduced herself and asked Bella if she knew anyone named Matt. She said he was a prisoner of the Galra too.

“I’m sorry, Pidge, prisoners don’t really see each other unless they’re in the same cell.”

She didn’t take the answer very well. With a mumble of some sort of thank you, Pidge left as Lance and Hunk called after her. The remaining three dropped the subject even though Bella was curious.

Hunk passed the tray of food under the door, apologizing about the food he was forced to make her.

“Shiro wont let me have any artistic license, so I guess you’re stuck with green goop. Sorry.” He told her.

“Green goop is better than nothing at all.” She said, digging in. It was an acquired taste but Bella could get it down.

The three of them got to chat a while longer, having a few laughs (mostly at Lance’s expense), before the two had to return. Lance said he didn’t want to stay too long, afraid Shiro would get suspicious, but each time he tried to stay longer and longer, drawing out his goodbyes.

The next day, Hunk came down to give Bella her dinner.

“Is Lance alright?” Bella asked, thinking it a bit strange that Lance wasn’t tagging along with Hunk.

“He’s fine, just asleep.” He said, sliding the tray into the small slot in the door.

“I didn’t think it was that late.” Bella had no real way to tell time, with no sun and moon to gauge and no clock of her own, she just guessed the time based on when her meals came.

“It’s not, I’m actually a little early with dinner.”

“Hmm. I didn’t know Lance had the circadian rhythm of a grandmother.”

“Hey, if anyone’s the grandmother of this team it’s me. I worked hard for that title.”

“My apologies, granny.”

They both shared a laugh for a moment.

“But he did have a long day training, so don’t hold a grudge against him.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, granny.” She joked. “Do you have enough energy in you to stay and chat or do you need to go to sleep too?”

“I wish I could stay but we’re about to go eat dinner.”

“Oh don’t rub it in.” Bella said, her stomach growling at the thought of eating something besides green goop.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast.” Hunk said, bending down and sliding what looked like a crumpled up ball of cloth into the slot before leaving.

Bella unraveled the ball to reveal a stack of three chocolate chip cookies. With a smile, she took a bite.

The next morning, Bella awoke feeling disgusting. It had been awhile since she last cleaned herself and it was pretty evident by her appearance. Her hair almost felt heavy because of the amount of oil seeping from her roots. Her hair was tangled and she could feel a layer of grime coating her body. She could only imagine what she looked like. Bless Lance and Hunk for being able to talk to her without gagging at either the sight or smell of her.

“Morning, Bella.” Lance called in his chipper voice.

“Morning, sleeping beauty.” Bella said.

“Sorry about not coming last night.” He said sliding what seemed to be a plate of toast under the door, but who could be sure with all the food there was from other galaxies.

“It’s alright, you needed your beauty sleep.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say I need beauty sleep?”

“Yes.” Bella said through a giggle.

“Well, you’re not so great yourself.”

“Maybe I’d be my usual ten out of ten self if I had clean hair.” Bella said, toying with a knotted strand on the side of her head.

“Yeah, when’s the last time you bathed? P.U.” Lance joked, pinching his nose for extra effect. Bella’s giggles were interrupted by a booming voice.

“Lance.” It called. “What are you still doing down here?”

The black paladin came down the hall, looking calm but Lance knew Shiro wasn’t happy with him.

“Just delivering breakfast.”

“What did I say about talking to the prisoner.”

“I’ve got a name.” Bella called. Even if she wasn’t actually offended, it was amusing to her to see Shiro’s eyebrow tick when she spoke.

“To not do it.” Lance answered, like a child answering their parent when they did something wrong.

“Then what are you still doing here?”  

Lance looked to Bella through the window. His eyes conveyed something apologetic.

She gave him a small nod, as if to affirm that it was okay if he left.

As Lance’s footsteps echoed off the walls, Shiro turned to Bella. “Get up.”

“Why?”

“You’re not in a position to question me.”

“What about now?” Bella asked changing the way she sat. “Or is this better?” She asked, moving her right leg out. “Does this seem like the position of someone who can ask questions?”

Shiro wasn’t having any of her sass. He opened the door to her cell and dragged her up and out by her arm. “You better start showing some respect or -.” He started.

“Or what? You’ll kill me? You can’t get those Galra secrets out of me if I’m dead.” Bella taunted.

He tightened his grip on her arm to the point where it hurt but remained silent until they came to a door.

“Where are we going?” Bella asked, trying to distance herself from Shiro.

“You are going to take a shower. Lance wasn’t wrong, you reek.” He said, bella felt her cheeks flush before she shoved down her embarrassment and replaced it with confidence, however fake it may be. 

He let go of her arm as the door slid open to a bathroom. Showers lined the walls, off to the left were bathroom stalls and opposite those were sinks.

Bella tried to hide her excitement as she speed-walked inside. There was no curtain, only a frosted glass door that she opened to a tiled stand-up shower. She reached her arm in an spent a few moments figuring out the perfect temperature.

Bella turned back to Shiro who was leaning against the door jam, arms crossed.

“Are you gonna leave…?” She trailed off.

“I don’t think you’ve earned privacy. Besides, I gotta make sure you don’t run for the doors.”

“I’m not getting undressed in front of you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m not doing it.”  

“Then don’t shower.” He said matter of factly.

Bella still stood with her arms crossed, matching Shiro’s stance. They held intense eye contact, but Shiro was growing impatient.

“Trust me, I’m not gonna look at you.”

“Hmmm, for some reason I’m finding it hard to trust you.”

“Fine, back to your cell then.”

“Or you could just not be a pervert, just throwing out options here.”

“What’s going on in here?” A small voice asked. Pidge came to the doorway, looking in between Shiro and Bella.

“He’s trying to watch me shower.”

“It’s not like that Pidge, I’m keeping watch to make sure she doesn’t run.”

“I could do that.” Pidge offered. Shiro looked unsure. “I mean, having a fellow girl in here might be less… this.” She said, motioning to Shiro and Bella.

Shiro thought for a moment. “Fine. Fifteen minutes.” And he was gone, of course not after sending a final glare Bella’s way.

She watched him walk away, then looked to Pidge. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Pidge said. “I’ll wait outside.” She continued, going to leave but she turned her head back to Bella. “Just don’t run away, it’ll make me look bad.”

“Promise I won’t.” Bella said.

Bella stepped out of the rags the Galra called clothes. She sported the Galra’s signature colors, dressed a tight black long sleeve underneath a loose fitting purple shirt that had a jagged hem with black pants to match. The clothes had been a “gift” from Lotor, he said she should be thankful he gave her anything to cover herself at all.

Thinking about the Prince disgusted her as she threw her clothes to the ground, dirtying them more than they already were.

She stepped into the shower and felt utter bliss as the steaming water cascaded over her body. A pleased sigh escaped her lips as she turned letting the water run down her back and over her head. Finding the bar of soap, she lathered up her body, scraping away at the layers of dirt and sweat.

Bella squeezed a dollop of shampoo onto her hands, working it into her roots down to the dead ends of her hair. She sat on the floor of the shower, watching as the bubbles trailed down her body and into the drain. She stayed there for a while, the bubbles were gone and the warm water was starting to fade away, but she still sat there.

“Are you alright in there?” Pidge called, poking her head in the bathroom but covered her eyes.

Bella sighed. She knew she couldn’t hide away in the shower forever. She grabbed a towel hanging off the shower door and wrapped herself up.

“Yeah,” She called. “Sorry about that, I lost track of time.” Bella explained.

“Don’t worry about it.” Pidge dismissed, not really looking at Bella.

“Pidge? Do you think these are alright?” Lance asked, walking into the bathroom as he looked through a pile of folded clothes in his arms, which he almost dropped the moment he looked at Bella.

He immediately turned his attention to his shoes, not wanting to be caught staring at the skin that her towel couldn’t cover. Lance’s heart dropped the second he saw her though. He couldn’t deny he thought Bella was as beautiful as her name entailed, but seeing her now amplified this thought. Her messy dark hair was tamed now, without streaks of dirt and tangles. Her blue eyes seemed to shine brighter against the contrast of her now clear skin.

“I-I-I brought these f-for you. I thought y-you’d be more comfortable.” He said, handing over a few pairs of pants and shirts of various sizes, still trying not to look at her.

“Where did you steal these from?” She asked, grabbing them from him.

“The majority of the pants are mine, a few of the shirts too. One’s from Hunk and those shorts are from Pidge.” Lance explained as Bella held up a much too big shirt. It was a golden yellow and would go down to her knees but it was softer than anything she’d ever felt before. “I just thought you wouldn’t want something more comfortable and less Galra-prisoner chic.” He said with an awkward laugh, rubbing the neck of his neck as he spoke.

“Thank you.” She said. Lance gave a smile at the genuine tone of Bella’s voice.

“It’s no problem.” He said, watching as her eyes scanned through the clothes. “Well, I’ll let you get dressed.” He finished, going to turn away but Bella put her hand on his arm. She planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, really, for being so sweet.”

Lance searched for something witty to say but his mind drew a blank. He let out an incoherent slur of words, mumbling something similar to “you’re welcome” before dipping out of the bathroom.

Pidge and Bella walked back to her cell silently, side by side. Bella had gotten dressed in Lance’s clothes, opting to use Hunk’s shirt as pajamas.

“Thanks for what you did back there.” Bella said, breaking the silence.

“Huh?”

“Offering to ‘keep watch’.” She said. “That was nice of you.”

“It was nothing. I didn’t think Shiro would do anything I just knew things would go over more smoothly if I stepped in.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. I had half the mind to start throwing bars of soap at him until he left.” Pidge giggled at the image.

They made it to Bella’s cell.

“I’m sorry for being so… weird a few days ago.” Pidge confessed. “I just- I was hopeful that you knew Matt and I was disappointed that you didn’t have any information. I know it was kind of childish, deep down I knew you wouldn’t know him I was just- desperate.” Pidge’s eyes wear starting to gleam, tears glossing over her eyes

“It’s alright. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any help.” She said. “I hope you find him.”

“Me too.” Pidge said with a sniffle, replacing her frown with a sort of smile.

[juniperallura]

Pacific Rim AU pt. 1

Word spread quickly around the Shatterdome: her father had returned from the Coastal Wall- successfully. An anticipatory buzz swept through the compound as everyone prepared for the new arrival. The Jaeger program was gearing up once again.

Things were changing quickly, including Allura. She threw shirt after shirt across the room, digging like a madwoman until she found what she was looking for. A record two minutes later she was flattening the lapels of her coat, grabbing an umbrella and pausing for a quick survey in the mirror. Black on black on black on black. Hair tied neatly back. 

Professional? Yes. Dramatic? Sure, but who could blame her? It wasn’t every day she met an internationally renowned Jaeger pilot and girlhood crush for the first time in years. With one last glance and a determined huff, she grabbed her father’s itinerary and marched out, the door slamming shut behind her.

| j | a | e | g | e | r |

The Shatterdome slowly came into focus in the driving rain. The words, Alfor’s words, that had followed him from the Wall echoed in his ears once again: 

     “Where would you rather die? Here, or in a Jaeger?”

He had made his choice, decided to return to everything and everyone he had abandoned years ago. 

                 He was terrified.

Shiro stepped out of the helicopter, pausing to draw a deep breath of Hong Kong air as the wind and rain whipped his face. The roaring clang of the Shatterdome hit him, igniting something in his chest. It was good to be back.

There was no time, however, for any personal reflection, as Alfor immediately started striding toward a figure across the landing pad. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet-” Alfor called back to him. Some interaction occurred behind his back, before Alfor ducked under an umbrella and handed one to Shiro. “This is Allura, one of our brightest.”

Curtains of black parted and two faces— familiar as five years apart could keep them— were revealed to one another. 

Shiro couldn’t stop his eyebrows from raising, his mouth from parting. Memories flashed in his mind; a shock of white hair in the background of meetings and training sessions, a girlish face and shrill voice reminding him and Matt that it was curfew, a fire that flashed in the eyes of a teenager who wanted nothing more than to fight but lived under the thumb of someone who had already lost too much—  But what confronted his gaze now was a maturely set face (that reflected his own expression) and a steady gaze, tempered with age and now distinguished as the brightest. “Yes, I remember.”

One of the advantages of adulthood, Allura decided, was the ability to overcome embarrassment. No schoolgirl blush colored her cheeks when she met his eyes, as it had in the old days, before a shock of his hair was bleached with stress and trauma, before his strong chin was shaded with stubble, before they met as equals under gathering storm clouds.

       Their stupors were only momentary.

She leaned over to her father, who seemed to be reveling in the satisfaction of having his two proteges under one roof again, and murmured in accented Cantonese, “I imagined him differently.”

Shiro just caught the words during a lull in the wind. He leaned forward, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Better or worse?”

Allura’s expression stuttered for a moment, her eyes flickering to Alfor, before she gave a lighthearted smile. “My apologizes, Mr. Shirogane. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Please- Shiro.” She nodded. “So, I hear you’ve been working on Kerberos?”

Alfor cut in, “-We have a lot to discuss, inside.”

| j | a | e | g | e | r |

Everything was going wrong. 

Shiro wasn’t sure what he expected; that he would waltz into the Shatterdome, have a beautiful reunion with the kid brother he had abandoned in a spiraling mental state, bump right into a new drift partner and have all his deep seated, debilitating fears be wiped clean by…Jaeger magic?

   At least he still knew how to make himself laugh.

Going to the gym helped, if only a little. Something about running until he couldn’t anymore helped ease the tension from the screaming matches he had gotten into with Keith and Alfor that day. Go figure.

But the real cherry on the shit cake that was his life was Allura. (There was probably a more delicate way to put that.) Everything seemed to circle back to her. More specifically, to their sparring match during his trials. He had sensed something between them, in the little time they had to get reacquainted; there was an understanding, and her eyes still had that fire. But he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t sort anything out through the fog that clouded his mind and his heart.

Matt would know what to do. Wasn’t that the whole problem?

A sudden swell of emotion weighed heavily on Shiro’s chest. 

       Fuck.

Allura could hear footsteps approaching from down the hall. Her forehead, still pressed against the door as her breathing slowed, picked up soft vibrations. Her hand wiped away any remaining moisture from her cheeks. 

It had been a long week.

She pressed her eye to the peephole just soon enough to see that shock of white hair disappear into the room across the hall. She jumped when the door slammed shut behind him, its metallic clang echoing through the hall, just as hers had minutes before. Their neighbors must hate them.

It took a few minutes of pacing for her to gather up the courage to put her hand on the door handle. Maybe he didn’t want to be disturbed. Maybe he’d welcome her concern. Maybe he’d be annoyed by her.

Why was she so intimidated by him? If anything, their match during tryouts had proven that they were equals, on the same playing field. She had certainly been precocious enough that day, challenging him in the ring in front of everyone; but then, her father disapproved (to put it lightly,) and Shiro suddenly became distant, losing the spark she had seen in his eyes when their staffs locked. Of course, she could guess the reason behind his behavior— she was standing beside her father when the images of Shiro, mangled on the Alaskan coast, came back to the Shatterdome. 

But still, Allura couldn’t forget about their trial match.

She glanced at the crinkled picture that sat on her desk, where a little girl with white pigtails smiled out at her. In a burst of bravery she was out in the hall, her knuckles rapping against the half rustled portal. 

Shiro opened the door slowly, expecting to find his little brother’s face glaring up at him. Instead, it was Allura, looking concerned and hesitant. His face softened. “Oh- hey, Allura-”

“I’m sorry to bother you, I just-” her eyes flitted around the hallway, as if looking for a sudden escape from a terrible decision. 

Shiro adjusted his posture, stepping back from the doorway and unfolding his arms. “No, no- please, come in.” He could see her eyes scanning the room as she entered, filing away any information she could glean from the personal mementos that sparsely dotted the walls. The bed creaked under his weight as he perched on its edge, waiting for her to speak. 

Finally, she met his gaze: no going back, no escape, now that his eyes were trained on her, brows raised expectantly, door shut behind her. “I think we’ve been avoiding each other all week,” she stated plainly. 

A hollow puff of air escaped him- almost a laugh. He ran a hand through his hair, about to defend himself; but, the words didn’t come. Instead, he gave a dry smile, admitting, “I know.”

“I know I picked your trial co-pilots, and on paper they should’ve worked, but-”

“-But I was under performing?” Shiro smirked.

A smile pulled at the corner of Allura’s mouth. “They were the wrong partners.”

The words sparked something in Shiro, pushing him to say what had been crouching in the back of his consciousness. He leaned forward, animation coming into his face. “But you weren’t. I mean, am I crazy? Or are we drift compatible?” 

Drift compatible. Part of him still squirmed when he used it toward someone other than Matt, but the growing feeling in his gut was telling him he couldn’t be afraid of it anymore. 

Allura met his eyes, pausing before she said, “No, you’re not crazy.” Slow smiles spread over their faces. “But-”

“-But, your father?”

She sighed, moving to sit next to Shiro on the bed. Her hands gripped her knees, sure to keep them from touching his. “I’ve wanted nothing else but to pilot a Jaeger for so long, but he wants to protect me. And I respect him.”

Shiro moved to face her, his brow furrowed. “Does he respect you? You’re the smartest pilot in the program, you had me on the ropes in thirty seconds, and you’re not a little girl anym-”

“I know that,” Allura interrupted sharply, “But there’s more to it. You of all people should know that.”

Shiro’s face fell, but he sucked in a breath, fighting off the fog that had been holding him back all week. “I know the dangers of drifting better than anyone here. I’ve got a lot of issues, there’s no denying that- and yes, I’m scared- but I can handle myself. And I think we would make a great team.” He reached out, not quite brushing her knuckles as he laid a gentle hand on her arm. 

She didn’t like this new feeling, that he was trying to read her every time their eyes met; and worse, that he could read her. “It’s not just you- there’s things you don’t know about me that could…get in the way.”

Shiro drew back, chuckling to himself. “It’s not you, it’s me- not the first time I’ve heard that.”

Allura snorted. “You know what I meant.”

“We both have a lot to sort through,” Shiro’s tone softened, his face becoming serious, “But when all that comes flooding back, in the Jaeger, we won’t be alone. Don’t forget that.” Allura’s crystalline eyes blinked at him, as if she didn’t quite believe what he said; but behind all the doubt, he could still see the sharpness that defined her from the rest of the recruits. She didn’t answer, but Shiro felt a reciprocal pressure on his hand that rested between them.