#shiropidge fanfiction

[shidgeisnasty]

Hold Me Close

Rated PG (very mild themes of PTSD and fear of abandonment, probably the fluffiest angst/angstiest fluff you can read)

1000 words (exactly! I added some more descriptive stuff to make that count)

Takes place sometime between Greening the Cube and The Blade of Marmora (s2 ep4-ep8)

They/them pronouns for Pidge

Enjoy! (and please leave a comment if you liked it! I don’t bite!)

Stale air…the stench of hot metal and unwashed flesh…flashes of light…the distant screams…

 Shiro jolted awake, sticky with sweat. His breaths came short and hard, as if he had physically run from his nightmare into the waking world. Shaking, he swung his legs over the edge of the firm barracks mattress, planting his bare feet on the cool floor. He combed his fingers through the short scruff of hair on top of his head, tangling them in his bangs as he attempted to slow his breathing.

This was nothing new for him; his nights were often filled with fitful sleep or none at all. Just gotta calm down, he told himself, closing his eyes, Maybe get some training in before the others wake up. But before he could settle his racing heart, he heard a knock at the door.

“Shiro? Are you okay?”

Shiro’s attention snapped to the door, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Pidge?”

“I’m coming in!” Pidge announced, their voice firm but clearly concerned. The door slid open and Pidge rushed inside, pale-faced and sweating almost as much as Shiro himself.

“What happened?” they demanded, “I heard you shout. Are you hurt?”

“It’s okay, Pidge, I’m fine,” Shiro asserted, though his voice wavered, threatening to betray his delicate state, “Go back to bed. I-it’s nothing.”

Pidge frowned, quickly scanning Shiro’s rough appearance. Without a word, they turned back towards the door. Instead of leaving, however, they punched the wall panel, closing the door.

“What are you - “ Shiro began, but Pidge interrupted,

“I don’t need to know everything but you don’t have to lie to me. I thought we were friends.”

“…we are friends. I just…I don’t want you to worry about it.” Pidge crossed to the bed, in as few strides as their short legs would carry them, and roughly sat next to Shiro.

“Too late,” they spat, “I’m already worried.” Shiro sighed and hung his head, resting his forearms on his knees.

“I had a nightmare, okay?” he admitted, “I get them all the time; it’s no big deal.” Pidge’s expression softened.

“What do you mean ‘all the time’?” they asked, “Like, every night?”

“Every night that I actually sleep.” This struck a nerve with Pidge, forcing them to reevaluate their approach. Tentatively, they reached out to touch Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro refused to look at them, but did not pull away.

“Honestly, I haven’t had a full night’s rest since I left Earth,” he revealed with a hint of embarrassment, “The first time.” Pidge slid closer to him on the bed, moving their hand to the base of his neck.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t know.”

“That’s because I don’t want anyone know. What kind of leader would I be if everyone just saw an exhausted trauma survivor?”

Pidge stared off towards the floor of the small room, struggling to think of what to say. They were never good at empathy; most of the time when they thought they were being reasonable, others saw selfishness and tactlessness.

We’re all made up of the same cosmic dust…

Of course…Maybe if they related on a personal level?

“I hardly sleep myself,” they shared, “I’d rather keep busy if I can’t sleep instead of just staring at a wall. I actually was walking around when I heard you.” Shiro turned slightly to look at them from the side of his vision, curious. Heart pounding and cheeks burning, Pidge scrambled to add to their comment to make it more about Shiro, and less about them.

“S-so you know, uh, if ever you need someone to talk to o-or just hang out with at night…” Unexpectedly, Shiro laughed. He faced Pidge with a gentle smile.

“Thanks, Pidge,” he said, “It means a lot.” Pidge froze. They hated when Shiro did that stupid, handsome smile, the one that made them feel like a useless freshman talking to a gorgeous upperclassman who was clearly out of their league. They hated that Shiro was just so effortlessly attractive when they felt like a moldy bag of potato chips.

“Don’t mention it,” they replied, haltingly almost to the point of forced, pulling their hand away, “I just…want to help out.” Shiro’s expression fell.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, “Did I do something wrong?” Pidge sighed, looking away.

“No. But…”

“But what?”

“Do…do you think we’d still be friends if none of this happened? I mean, if you were never captured and we all stayed on Earth?”

The silence that followed Pidge’s question weighed heavily on both of them. Shiro’s memories of Katie Holt were vague at best: Matt’s younger sibling, Commander Holt’s rarely seen second child. In fact, there had only been one occasion before the Kerberos mission that they had spoken to each other. Shiro remembered it vividly, as it had startled him that the fourth member of the Holt family, the one he’d often forgot lived there until they came out of their room periodically for the bathroom or for food, the person he’d assumed to be shy all those years had such a strong, clear voice.

 ...

“Do me a favor, will you? Don’t kill Matt while you’re out there. That’s my job.”

“I’ll soften him up for you. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds great.”

 ...

“I…don’t know…” Shiro responded softly, “Maybe if we’d made it back safely, we could’ve…” They locked eyes, both imagining a life without Voltron, without Zarkon, a life where they could have slowly gotten to know each other, or one where they could have passed each other by completely, never knowing more than a face and a name. Overcome with the same abstract fear, they embraced one another, holding tightly to the life they currently had.

“I don’t care what could have been,” Shiro affirmed, his cheek pressed to Pidge’s hair, “I’m glad I know you now.”

“Me too,” Pidge agreed, their heart fluttering, “I wanna see where this goes.” Shiro pulled back, smiling that impossibly beautiful smile of his. Pidge stared back, eyes wide; they could hardly breathe.

“Sounds great.”

[ninja-librarian]

The non-magical daughter of Witches, Katelyn 'Pidge' Holt is having a really crappy birthday, given that her crush is marrying a truly horrible person and she never had the guts to tell him how she felt. Emboldened, Pidge decides to gatecrash the wedding and profess her love. Only problem? She doesn't know where the wedding's being held. So when an unexpected prophecy comes from her friend Hunk, she follows it to the tee...

And ends up crashing a funeral.

And raising the guest of honor from the dead.

Takashi 'Shiro' Shirogane doesn't know it, but he's having a bad day, too. Because what he doesn't know is that he's dead. And that he has been dead for the last five days. Or, at least, he was dead until he woke up in a coffin. He doesn't know how he got there, or how he lost his arm, or who the strange girl standing in the aisle of the church is.

But he does know one thing: whatever happened that made him sit up in his coffin was because of her.

Both of their worlds suddenly upended and discovering that their connection wasn't just coincidence but fate, Pidge and Shiro find themselves at the very center of a battle of good versus evil, that could decide the fate of the entire world.

[battleshidge]

Hey, I just saw the new chapter of Cafe Au Lait (did I spell that right?) was up and I loved it! Thanks so much for sharing it. You rock!

Looking at this message made me realize how many messages I've missed over time OOPS. Especially since this is the first I've updated a VLD fic in over a year. (Extra oops?) But I'm so glad you liked it! And are still there, despite how long it's been.

And for anyone else who's been waiting, you can find it here:

Thanks for sticking with it, and hope life's been treating you guys okay! :)

[galacticlee]

Hoiylien, as she found out, was a planet full of elemental-wielding architects who nearly worshiped the weapon dubbed Voltron. Oh, and they tried to kill her. He tried to look past that part.

[galacticdefense]

Before our fall.

Summery: So I’ve been kicking around the idea of Pidge/Katie and Shiro knowing each other before Kerberos. Maybe more than knowing each other.

Set about two years after Shiro’s return to Earth we find our paladins fighting the Galra forces, making new allies, gaining new memories (recovering old ones), and finding family, even in the strangest of places.

Pairings: Shiro/Pidge, Lance/Keith (minor), Keith/Pidge (Brotp), will add more as the occur.

word count: 1,018.

Part Two

unbeta’d

Part One

Shiro knows something is amiss when he hears hushed voices coming from the training deck as he walks by one evening. With his curiosity piqued he decided that a quick look in wouldn’t hurt, would it?

He didn’t know what it was that he expected to see when he stuck his head in. Maybe Lance getting frustrated at moving targets (again), or Allura and Coran working on the Gladiator system. Not Keith pinning Pidge to the floor while they both laughed. Shiro felt an odd pain at his temple that spread to the base of his neck seeing the two in such a situation. An acidic feeling filled his stomach.

Keith slowly (too slowly), released Pidge from the pin and stood, offering out a hand to help her up, which she took.

“It’s really good to be doing this again, Squirt.” Keith chuckled as he pulled Pidge up too fast making her stumble to catch her balance.

“That was unfair and you know it. I call a rematch! best two out of three, I’ll get you next time ‘mein freund’.” The young woman laughed in return, punching the red paladin on the shoulder squaring up for their next bout.

A lot had changed in their time out in the deep reaches of space, Shiro mused. Sure all of the paladins got older (he himself was now around 21), but he was thinking more about his friends themselves. Hunk had built up a tougher stomach (thankfully), he had become more courageous, being the first in to the fray of a fight on many occasions, and a solid support system on the ship. He was a lot like glue keeping them from falling apart. Keith had cooled his head and opened up to the rest of the team more. He was no longer so quick to draw blood and instead tried to think of a strategy that would cause the least loss. Shiro was proud of his brother more then the other knew. Lance had become the best shot on the ship with Hunk and Pidge coming in close seconds. Having matured more in the past year due to the fighting and age in general he no longer tried to make advances on and alien he met. Instead he was now working alongside Allura when negotiating with allied planets as her representative. He was doing a surprisingly good job.

Pidge had by far surprised him the most though. She had slowly started to grow in to her own skin, if you will. She had started to grow her hair out long again now letting it fall past her shoulders when it was down, not a sight seen too often. She had started telling stories about her mom and her cookies, about her dad and bother, how they would all work on projects together, and about her childhood pet dog Rover. She had shaped up to be a great close range fighter when in a tight spot and had gotten even faster at cracking the Galra fire walls. But still after the two years that they had been out here fighting and searching, they still couldn’t quite get a hold of Matthew or Samuel Holt. They had plenty of eye witnesses, photos, videos, even transfer logs, but the Galra were always a step ahead of them in moving the two men just out of reach.

Shiro sighed as he watched the two. He was about to announce his presence when he saw Keith’s arm raise ready to strike and start round two of their sparring match. Pidge reacted quickly, catching the man’s arm and quickly twisting in a way that her back was against his body. In one fluid motion she pulled on the red paladins arm and bent over, effectively flipping him over her shoulder. Keith let out an ‘oof’ as he hit the floor, the wind knocked out of him. The shorter fighter moved as fast as she could to place knee on his chest, and a hand by his throat.

“My win, ‘kleine maus’,” A grin crossed her face. Victory was hers.

“Fine, Fine, ‘Hato’, just let me up. I can’t breath.” Keith attempted to laugh but it came out more strained.

‘Maybe,’ Shiro thought, ‘this wasn’t such a good idea…’ He slowly started to head away when Keith’s voice stopped him.

“Talk to me, Katie, you can’t keep doing this thing where you work yourself to death.” Shiro stopped and leaned his back against the wall just beside the door.

“I now I make a good punching bag to let out frustrations,” Keith continued, ”and that Hunk is better at all the emotional junk... but let me try. I’m probably the only one on this ship that even vaguely understands what you’ve been through.”  Shiro didn’t need to see Keith to know that was giving her the look that meant you couldn’t refuse.

“It’s just hard Keith.” Pidge’s voice cracked and a sniffle worked it’s way through the silence. “They’re so close yet so damn far away from me. It’s like every time I think that we’ve finally got them they slip through my fingers like grains of sand.”

“Well we’ve got Shiro, right?” Keith tried to comfort, his voice low and almost hard to hear.

“That’s for you to say, he actually remembered you. He remembers almost everything about you.” Her voice all but gave out at the end.

“Oh Katerina,” Shiro’s breath hitched at Keith using Katie’s full name, ”just give him a little more time.”

“I have Keith, I’ve given him two years worth of time and look at where that’s gotten us! Nowhere! He only remembers me as Matt’s little sister and that’s all I’ll be.” Shiro could hear the sob rip through her. He felt his heart tighten and a heat behind his eyes.

“ I just wish it wasn’t so hard, you know?” Katie chocked out between tears. ‘Katie has never been a good crier’, Shiro thought.

Shiro paused, how had he known that? Or rather, remember it. Not for the first time Shiro wondered what else he might have forgotten.

AN: Ok guys. This is my first time writing something and actually doing something with it so here goes. So I headcanon Katie as German or learned German from family. Her and Keith have such a good friendship and bond it kills the man. Come talk to me and I might be able to answer and questions if you have them?

 Translations= mein freund - my friend, kleine maus - little mouse, Hato- pigeon.

[lajt-hane]

Summary: It wasn’t uncommon for Allura or Coran to ask them about some of their Earth traditions. Keith, however, never expected to be the chosen one with a mission to describe kissing to the princess.

Additional comments: Even though Shiro and Pidge doesn’t appear here, it is a story about them. Anyway enjoy awkward Keith. Pidge is also 18+.

Also can be read on AO3

***

Kiss me goodbye

“Can I ask you about one of your earthlings’ tradition?”

Keith glanced to his side where Allura was leaning on the wall with a water pouch in her hand. She was looking back at him with clear and honest curiosity radiating from her eyes. Her white locks were glued to her forehead after a heavy sparring they just had, but even sweaty and exhausted she held herself like a princess.

Keith… not so much, as he was sitting down and desperately trying to catch a breath of sweet air for his burning, aching lungs. To be honest, Allura majorly kicked his butt and he was glad Lance wasn’t here to see it.

“Go on.” He murmured between long inhales and exhales, turning to his own water pouch and trying to put the straw in its rightful place. But when it was just near the plastic (or at least it looked like plastic) opening, it bent and didn’t cut through the material.

Great. His trembling hands didn’t help him either in this suddenly difficult maneuver.

Keith brought the pouch closer to his eyes and tried to poke the hole with the now curved straw, but it was still too hard to point it in the perfect place. Come on, he was just thirsty and wanted few sips of the water to soothe his tired throat muscles.

“Why do people interlock their lips together? Does it have a higher meaning or…”

And Keith one more time missed and accidently cut a hole next to the small, silver dot he was supposed to pierce.

“W-what?” Oh, shit, did he actually stammer while responding?

But who could blame him? Did Allura just ask him about… kissing? Well, it had to be kissing. In what other way would someone… interlock their lips with someone else’s ones? The only other option could be CPR, but Keith had a dark feeling she wasn’t asking about it.

Allura turned to him, drinking slowly the water and lifting her eyebrow.

“You know, when one person put their lips on the other’s ones and…”

“I got it, I got it!” Keith shook his head, trying to stop the princess from talking more. He was sure that now his cheeks were ablaze from embarrassment and not due to the exhaustion. Unfortunately. “You don’t have to explain it further. I know what you’re taking about!”

Oh boy, he did expect everything from today. He had expected for Lance and Hunk to make goo throwing competition to see who could actually throw it farther. He expected for Coran to clean the floor so good that Keith had actually slipped on it. He expected for Pidge to fall asleep during breakfast and put her face in her plate accidentally due to her state. He expected for Shiro to take care of the mess Lance and Hunk had made. He even expected for Allura to ask him for a small sparring (which she did). He didn’t expect thought to be asked to describe kissing to someone.

This question literally turned his world upside down. Not in the nice way. And it almost made him cringe.

Because come on! Why she had asked him about it and not Lance!? He definitely had more knowledge in that field – unless his bragging was all for naught (which could also be true).

Just why him?

“Sooo…” Allura’s voice was soft and delicate, yet curious when she extended that one word as she sat next to him. Even the way she kept her legs close to her chest looked magnificent and elegant. “Will you explain it to me?”

It was happening. Keith was about to explain kissing to his alien friend. If this wasn’t one of the weirdest thing he had done in his life (except, of course, for fighting dangerous aliens by piloting a giant lion to save and free the whole universe), then he didn’t know what could beat it.

At this moment he gave up, put the straw in the hole he had accidentally made and took a sip.

“Well, the thing you are asking about, or at least I think you are asking about, is called a kiss…” Or a CPR, but he left the side comment for himself. Allura could ask what a CPR was and it would take a whole afternoon for him to explain it and unfortunately probably demonstrate. And he wasn’t keen on demonstrating it.

“A kiss…” She parroted the word after him, putting her hand near her chin and nodding to herself. Maybe she was memorizing it for further purposes. Who could know in the end? “Does this kiss thing have a higher purpose?”

“Usually it is a sign of affection.” Gosh, could his throat get tighter? He could feel the fire in his cheeks and somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Red laughing at him and his failed attempts at being a walking dictionary. He never had signed himself for that job! “Like… when you really, really like someone you kiss them to show them your true feelings.” Was it right? Keith wasn’t sure. He never had kissed anyone in his entire life.

Allura furrowed her eyebrows in very concerned way. It actually looked like she tried to remember something.

“Does it mean that only people who really, really like each other are doing this kiss thing?” She turned to him still with this field of wrinkles between her eyebrows.

“Kiss is also a verb.” Keith commented. He wasn’t sure if he could live through Allura one more time calling kiss a this kiss thing. Man, it was… scary. “And to answer your question –  no. Sometimes you just kiss someone to show that you care about them not in the romantic way, but then you usually do it on other places. Like on forehead or cheek. Families and friends do it pretty often… or at least I think they do.”

He had a vague memory of his mom kissing his forehead goodnight, but it was long time ago and now the only thing left was a fuzzy feeling somewhere at the back of his mind, hidden under layers of old and dusty memories.

“You never kissed anyone?” Keith asked instead when Allura wasn’t responding for quite some time. This kind of troubled look didn’t want to leave her face either.

She glanced at him and crossed her wrists, hugging her legs close to herself.

“No, I don’t think so. On Altea we never… kissed each other.” She said, but very unsteadily, like she tasted the word on her tongue. “When we wanted to show our respect and real feelings we would touch each other’s heart.”

“Wait, like literally?”

Allura chuckled, probably amused by the surprised look on Keith’s face.

“No, doofus, by our mental bond. This was… is the sign of deep trust between our people.” She corrected herself with a fond smile, resting her head on her knees and looking at the training room’s wall in front of them, but Keith had a feeling she was staring at the world stretching far away behind those walls.

“Sounds…” Painful? Weird? “Nice…”

Allura giggled and turned to him, putting the straw back in her mouth.

“You should try doing it during your mental training.”

“How about no.” Touching someone’s heart didn’t sound like a great idea. Touching Lance’s heart sounded like a terrible idea even. He might get some of Lance’s germs on himself by it. No, thank you.

Allura chuckled one more time and the wrinkles on her forehead softened for a second or two, but quickly returned doubled in size.

“How does it feel then? How does kissing someone feel?”

At that Keith felt his blush returning tenfold, ruling over his burning skin on the cheeks. He hoped he didn’t have to explain the blood rush to her.

“Well… you know… I’m… to be honest…” Ah, fuck it. “I’m actually not the best person to describe it.” He said, reaching with his hand to the back of his head and scratching nervously the skin there.

“Why?” She blinked, but unfortunately didn’t back away from her question. Damn.

“I’ve never kissed anyone.” He glanced away for a moment. “I never had this special someone special for me to kiss them.”

Allura hummed gently under her nose and looked away, but didn’t comment his lack of experience (for what he was glad). And Keith spoke the honest truth. He never was interested in anyone. His love life was more deserted and dry than Ténéré desert. And he kind of felt comfortable with it.

Till this moment, that is.

Princess sighed and then stood up, crushing the pouch in her hands and brushing sweat away from her neck.

“Well thank you for answering my questions then, Keith. It was a very… fruitful lesson for me.” She turned to him, smiling in gratitude.

“No problem.” Keith muttered back, even though all his organs were twisting in discomfort and screaming for some release from this tension – for example kicking some robot could do the trick and loosen up his muscles and mind.

Allura turned around, but before she was even able to make another step, she was looking back one more time.

“Mind answering one more question for me… I promise it will be the last one.” She glanced to her side hesitantly.

Something in the way she averted his gaze wasn’t too good in Keith’s opinion, but he didn’t want to dig too much into it. It was just a bad feeling. Only that. And he definitely hoped nothing more than it.

“Knock yourself out.”

At the statement she tilted her head, but quickly returned to the reality with a small shake of it.

“Are you supposed to cry during kissing?” Then like she said something she shouldn’t have, Allura quickly shook her head with hands flying to her earring with which she played for a bit. “Or… no… bad question. What I meant is that… kissing should feel good, right?”

Keith was… totally taken aback by this question and it took him few second to grasp the idea – the concept or the real meaning of words spoken by the princess, even though she stood a meter or less away from him.

Swallowing was suddenly much harder than he remembered it to be.

“Yes, I mean, if both side are okay with it, then kissing should feel good.” Every spoken word now felt like a ton of bricks slipping away from his mind and crumbling to the floor with dull sound echoing in his brain. “I think no one should be crying while kissing. Maybe only from happiness.”

Allura nodded, frowning and looking away both in the same time. Her lips moved – formed a uncertain, thin line – and then opened. However no sound left her mouth, before she closed it one more time.

She looked… lost.

And then it came to Keith’s mind that it was unusual for Allura or Coran to ask them questions about Earth and its traditions without some kind of base – usually it was one of the paladins mentioning or doing something in front of the Alteans, which was new and uncommon for them.

So did it mean that someone spoke with Allura about kissing?

Did it mean that she saw someone kissing?

“Did you…” Keith swallowed hard. He could simply drop this topic and live with his (not) normal life from now on, not really knowing what Allura had seen or heard. But there was something worrying him in her behavior and somehow he knew he would return to thinking about it during nights. “Did you see someone… kissing?”

Allura turned to him with wide eyes and half-opened mouth, only to quickly avert his gaze one more time. Guilty on the point. She brushed her arm comfortingly, still looking anywhere but at him.

This was distressing.

Keith could wait. Well, he was reckless and rash. He knew that sometimes he was doing things without thinking first (he was still better than Lance in this matter), but now he knew he could wait for just few more seconds, minutes, hours.

However when Allura turned to him with a focused and decided look he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know the truth or not.

“Do you promise to not spill it to anyone else on this ship?”

If looks could kill, then Allura could easily get rid of the entire Galra empire just by staring at them with such ferocity and hardness that it almost made Keith want to shiver. This gaze promised pain (a lot of it) and devastation in case of breaking the vow.

Keith wasn’t keen on knowing the pain hidden behind this look. He quickly nodded.

Allura sighed and moved to sit back next to Keith once again.

“To be honest it was bugging me for some time…” She started, but stopped and began to play with the crushed water pouch still in her grasp, smoothening the bent corners. “And I wasn’t sure who I should ask about it, but the real story is…” Allura took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts probably. “Few days ago I was going back to my room in the middle of the night. Like it’s normal, right? I woke up to check if everything with the ship and its course was alright. So it was already late when I was going back to sleep. Well, even late for us Alteans, because it was almost the middle of the night as I said earlier…”

Keith for the first time in his life heard Allura so lost that she was jumping back and forward, probably not even conscious of it. She was always speaking with dignity in the respectful and steady voice. Not she seemed like a totally different person.

“And…” Keith nudged, trying to redirect the princess to the right tracks.

“And I heard someone talking with someone else around the corner. And they both sounded rushed and kind of… I don’t know, angry or sad, or maybe both, so I totally didn’t want to interrupt them, so I hid from them. But then suddenly it all became quiet. And I got scared thinking that maybe they had hurt each other somehow, so I peeked around the corner...” Her voice became quieter. “…And then I saw them kissing…”

“Who?” Keith asked, feeling suddenly as his heart skipped a beat.

Allura glanced at him warily and then slowly hugged her legs close to her chest. In this moment she looked like a lost child, not a mighty princess – a leader of one side in an intergalactic war.

Her answer was whispered so quietly that he had to lean closer to hear it, but it still shook Keith inside.

“Shiro and Pidge. And you said that kissing should feel good, but they looked… they looked pretty sad. And I… I think Pidge was crying too…”

What?

 ***

Okay, writing story without some sad moment is hard. What happened here? Who knows?

Maybe I will continue it in the future, but who knows xD. Hope you enjoyed it anyway.

[shidgeisnasty]

Don’t Let Go ch.1

Rated PG-13 (language, gender dysphoria, disturbing themes, violence in later chapters)

1,306 words

Nonbinary Pidge (they/them)

1st Person POV

Enjoy!

“The wormhole is corrupted! Something must be wrong with the teludav!”

“I think something’s wrong with my lion, too!”

“Stay together! If we can just make it through to the other side…”

“What was that?”

“The castle…no, it can’t be!”

“Hold on! Just hold on! We can make it!”

 …

The last things I remembered were blinding, cool toned lights and the screams of my friends as the wormhole collapsed around us. Then, everything went dark and silent. I don’t know how long I was unconscious for, but when I woke, I was enveloped by something soft and warm. I didn’t want to open my eyes; I was terrified that something had eaten me or that I was lying in a pool of my own blood (or both). Strangely enough, I couldn’t feel my armor, though I knew I had been wearing all of it when we went through the wormhole. Cautiously, I opened my eyes, only to have my vision obscured by my own hair. I slowly slid my hand up to push my bangs out of the way, uncertain if I was being watched, but shot up into a sitting position once I saw where I was.

Twin bed with a hand-me-down, pea green quilt…faded, ruffled curtains…posters of various scientists and lists of algorithms and equations on the walls…computer parts on every surface…This was my bedroom. On Earth.

“How the hell…” I muttered, staring at the walls I hadn’t seen in at least a year… how long had it been since we landed on Arus? How long had it been since I had joined the Garrison? This has to be some kind of hallucination, I thought, stepping out of bed, I have to figure out a way to wake myself up and get back to the others.

“Hey! Are you ready yet?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of a familiar voice outside my door.

“What?” I asked weakly. The door opened, revealing one of the few people I would risk everything for, my long missing brother, Matt. He leaned his shoulder into the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. He was wearing his Garrison uniform and an impatient expression.

“Katie, get a move on!” he complained, “You’re not even dressed yet! You really want to be late on your first day?”

My throat felt like I had swallowed glue. Matt, my brother, the one I risked imprisonment for on Earth, death for out in space, was standing here in front of me like nothing had ever happened.

“What’s going on?” I whispered, unable to move from shock.

“What’s going on is that you’re about to be late to your first day of school and Dad’s gonna get flak for it,” Matt grumbled, “Whatever, I’ll help you out. I’ll throw some poptarts in for you but you gotta be downstairs in ten minutes, alright?”

I nodded, more as a reflex than a conscious effort. Matt shut the door behind him as he left, leaving me alone again with my racing thoughts. What the hell was going on? Was this a dream? Was this a mind trick of Haggar’s? Why couldn’t I remember what happened after we left the wormhole? I realized I had been pacing and stopped to look at myself in the mirror over my dresser, a cold ball of horror and unease forming in my stomach as I took in my own appearance.

My hair was the same length it was when Matt and Dad went missing.

This can’t be happening…I can’t have imagined the whole damn thing!

“No…” I mumbled to myself, “I’ve got to find the other paladins…They can’t have forgotten me…Someone’s gotta know what happened.” As quickly as I could, I formulated a plan. I would play along with this reality, lay low until I found my friends and figured out what brought us here. I looked down at the top of the dresser to see my Garrison uniform already out, folded neatly into a square.

“Let’s do this.”

 …

Ten minutes later I had finished with my old morning routine, something I was a little rusty with, I admit, and made it downstairs to meet with Matt.

“You’re really pushing it, Katie,” he told me, tossing me two poptarts wrapped in a paper towel, “Dad’s waiting in the truck. Let’s go.” I followed him out to the driveway, the lump in my throat returning upon seeing my father, alive and well, sitting in the driver’s seat of the Garrison issued pickup. He smiled at our approach, leaning an elbow out the window.

“You kids ready for a new semester?” he asked cheerfully.

“I know I am,” Matt replied, hopping into the front passenger seat, “I think Katie’s getting cold feet.”

“You’ll do great, sweetie,” Dad encouraged me, “And if anyone gives you a hard time, you just let me know, okay? I’ll sort ‘em out.” I fought back the wave of emotion that gripped me, hearing his voice again after all this time.

“Yeah,” I responded, “Okay.” I climbed into the backseat, the too sweet peanut butter smell of the poptarts quickly filling the cab. Still, I could not bring myself to eat. Not yet.

I kept quiet most of the ride to the Garrison, racking my brain for possibilities of what could have gone wrong with the wormhole to make it project this bizarre fantasy in my mind and how it could feel so real. Occasionally, Matt or Dad wanted to ask me something, so I had to return to the hallucination to answer them the best I could.

“You okay, back there?” Dad asked, checking on me through the rearview mirror, “You keep tugging your hair.” I hadn’t realized until he pointed it out that I had indeed been pulling at my ponytail so much the scrunchie was starting to fall out. I had gotten used to short hair (and honestly preferred the ease of it).

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” I assured him, “Just thinking I might need to get a haircut soon.”

“Doesn’t look too long to me,” he commented, “Maybe just a trim.”

An all too familiar churn of my stomach reminded me how much I hated to hear that. My parents had instilled in me from a young age that if I cut my hair too short I would ‘look like a boy’. My child’s brain interpreted looking like a boy to be the worst possible outcome and, for my parents, it was. A daughter’s job is to be married off to some nice young man who will take care of her, and she can only do that if she makes herself attractive. This idea is present even in more liberal families, whether they recognize it or not. I remember the day I took the scissors to my hair as clearly as if it happened hours ago. All the internalized societal norms and imposed gender identity crushing me more and more the longer I hesitated. It was only after I held the severed hair in my hands and let it drop out of the bathroom window that I began to feel an odd sense of freedom…was I putting on a disguise or finally shedding one?

The first time I truly felt like myself was the moment my team acknowledged and accepted me, regardless of what gender I was. I knew some of them were lying about knowing all along, but the sentiment was enough. I didn’t have to hide from them, and they didn’t try to call me Katie or encourage me to be more feminine. They saw me.

In the backseat of my father’s truck, I stared darkly out the window at the Galaxy Garrison coming into view on the horizon, forcing myself to eat the now cold poptarts. I would do anything to get my team back.

[ninja-librarian]

Shiro re-meets his family, and wonders what his future will hold.

[ninja-librarian]

Chapter 4: In which our Heroes spend some time at the police station...

[ninja-librarian]

Chapter 3: In which Pidge and Shiro seek answers... and now have a lot more questions.

[ninja-librarian]

So... I meant to post this yesterday on the first day of Spooky Season but this is a Pinterest board that is a bit of a preview of my next big VLD fanfic project, the one that I’ve been referring to lovingly as the Necromancer Pidge AU. Yeah. That one.

Which I’m going to be posting the first chapter of on Friday.

I hope y’all like slow-burns, because this one is going to be a doozy.

[battleshidge]

Chapter Summary: 

Shiro took a steadying breath, the fingers of his left hand curling a little in his lap. He pointedly pulled his attention across the room, noting the various stations and the robotics equipment in the lab while fighting the nerves rising in his throat.

His arm had been bothering him for too long, though, and she was right when she said that something needed to be done.

I FINALLY DID IT. 

IT’S BEEN SO LONG BUT IT’S FINALLY HERE.

[battleshidge]

plight of the pizza

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Shidge (Shiro/Pidge) Rating: Teen and up; for language. Summary: Cooking was like chemistry, which she’d aced last semester, so she figured that it would be easy to whip something up. You followed a specific formula and would achieve edible success–simple. And even simpler was putting a monstrosity called a frozen meal in the oven at the right temperature and waiting for it to be done. Piece of cake, she thought.

Only...it wasn't.

Author’s Notes: From the prompt Character A tries, and fails, to cook dinner for Character B, resulting in a hoard of takeout food and a promise to never use the stove again for @shiroganeholt​ and @ohdearkamiwhy, who asked for it way back in like, August. I’m sorry it took me so long! I never forgot, I just got distracted and busy and here it is.

I hope you guys enjoy it!

Also on Ao3!

(shiroganeholt and ohdearkamiwhy, if you guys have Ao3 accounts, if you could comment or message and tell me the name so I can edit the Ao3 post to be gifted to you guys, I’d appreciate it!)

It had been a while since Pidge had tinkered in the kitchen.

She was a very technical sort of person. Machines were kind of her thing. But cooking was like chemistry, which she’d aced last semester, so she figured that it would be easy to whip something up. You followed a specific formula and would achieve edible success–simple. And even simpler was putting a monstrosity called a frozen meal in the oven at the right temperature and waiting for it to be done. Piece of cake, she thought.

Only...it wasn’t.

As the open oven allowed the plumes of dark grey smoke to disperse, Pidge stared blankly at what was supposed to be pizza. The center looked like it might conceivably pass as food, but the edges were blackened and the pepperonis were curling in on themselves, shriveled and much darker than she thought they should be.

She spared a glance for the smoke detector, abandoned and in pieces on the counter. That horrendous beeping would have given her a headache, if she’d let it persist. So she’d disassembled the device, because that was something she could fix later.

The pizza, however, looked like a loss.

“Holy crow,” she murmured, pulling the pan out and sliding it onto the stovetop, biting her lip. “What did I do wrong?”

She had set the timer for fourteen minutes, just like the box had said. And she was certain she’d had the right temperature. It should have been as easy as following the instructions on the box, so where could she have possibly gone wrong?

Pidge didn’t exactly have time to right this wrong. Shiro would be back to the apartment in about ten minutes, give or take a few, and would start asking her questions. Why does it smell like something burnt? he’d probably start with, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her. And despite how easy fibbing to her friends was, usually as a joke, she couldn’t do the same to Shiro. She’d probably end up spilling that she was trying to surprise him because they’d officially been dating for six months.

Six months.

Even now, it seemed impossible. Six months ago, she’d been a college freshman that was hopelessly head over heels for the teacher’s assistant in her Altean history class, and now here she was, a sophomore whose feelings had long since been reciprocated. It was almost unreal.

Shiro was in the middle of his obligatory student teaching semester, preparing for his career and life as a history teacher, and he’d been asked by his classroom mentor to attend a faculty meeting after school. He’d accepted, of course, because he liked to be useful and he liked to be prepared. And so Pidge had taken it upon herself to fix them dinner tonight, in celebration of six months together and the progress he had made.

Burnt pizza didn’t make for a good celebratory dinner, though.

After a few more moments of staring, wondering what she’d done wrong, Pidge pulled out her phone. If there was anyone who could help her come up with something in the next five minutes, it was the infallible Hunk. So she scrolled through her contacts and found his name in record time, pressing the Call button and lifting the phone to her ear impatiently.

“Hey, Pidge, what’s up?” he asked after the third ring, his tone familiar and warm.

“I need advice,” she said brusquely, prodding her catastrophic attempt at cooking with a spatula. “I’m trying to make something for Shiro for dinner and I burned this stupid pizza. He’s supposed to be home in about five minutes. Is there anything I can at least start in that timespan that might hide the smell of the burnt pizza and be ready pretty soon after he gets here?”

Hunk remained silent for a few moments, and she heard a few clanking sounds. He was probably cooking, too. But there was chatter in the background, so maybe he was at the store or something instead?

“How did you mess up on a pizza? I doubt you made it from scratch–sorry, Pidge–so how did you misread the oven instructions? Nevermind, I’m not sure I want to know, really. Um...do you have pasta? Pasta is pretty simple. Put some tomato sauce in a pan and let it simmer on low heat while you boil water and a dash of salt and put the pasta noodles in. Even you shouldn’t be able to mess that up.”

“Hey–”

“–sorry, sorry. Anyway, just let the sauce simmer for a bit on low while you boil the pasta. Easy-peasy. Even Lance can do it, so it should be easy enough for you to handle.”

A muffled, “Hey, I heard that!” sounded from the other end of the line, but Pidge merely snorted and focused on Hunk’s voice.

“Hush, Lance! But Pidge, as long as you keep the pasta from sticking to the sides of the pan while you boil it, you should be fine. Don’t overcook it, or it will be mush. But you’d have to let it boil for ages to get to that point, so you should be fine.”

“Somehow I’m not sensing much confidence,” she drawled, lips folding into a frown as she held the phone on her shoulder to rummage for the pasta in the cabinets.

“You burned a pizza, Pidge. One that you just have to put in the oven for like, fifteen minutes at the right temperature,” Hunk’s tone was flat. “Sorry if that doesn’t lend me confidence about your skills in the kitchen. Anyway, while the sauce is simmering, you should be able to add some cu–ow, Lance, what the hell–cumin, just for a bit of flavor. Personal family recipe, don’t tell Mom I told you that!”

Cinnamon? Pidge thought, Is that what he said? I didn’t think cinnamon went in pasta, but I’m a terrible cook.

“Yeah, yeah. Anything else you can tell me?”

“I’ve told you pretty much everything. It’s up to you. Make sure the pasta has enough water and a dash of salt, stir the sauce occasionally to make sure it doesn’t stick, and you should make it through. Lance is trying to run me over with the shopping cart now, though, so I’ve got to finish shopping. Later, Pidge! Good luck with the pasta!”

“Thanks, Hunk. I’ll let you know how it turns out,” she managed. “Later!”

The phone clicked into silence soon after, and she let out a disgruntled huff of air through her nose.

Formulas and calculations she could do with ease. Mixing chemicals and using a bunsen burner was nothing. But somehow cooking was proving to be a lot harder than expected.

With one last sigh, she gathered all that Hunk had told her she needed and got some water in the pan she’d be cooking the pasta in. Pidge placed it on one of the burners, turning it on to let the water start heating up. For a moment she paused, trying to remember whether she needed to wait for the water to start boiling before she dumped the pasta in. After a few moments, though, Pidge decided that it wouldn’t hurt and did so anyway. She poured some tomato sauce into another pan and placed it on an adjacent burner, turning up the heat to let the sauce start simmering. Shiro was supposed to be back any minute now, so after a moment she decided to turn the heat almost all the way up.

“I hope this is right,” she murmured, glancing at the ruined pizza on the cabinet. She started to step towards it to clear it away, but then remembered Hunk’s other tips and turned to reach for the seasoning instead.

She dashed some salt into the pasta pan. She wasn’t sure how much she needed, so she gave it three or four good shakes just to be safe before reaching for the cinnamon. With that in hand, Pidge actually hesitated for a few moments. It still sounded so weird, but who was she to judge? Hunk had said it was his family’s secret ingredient, and he was nicer than Lance. He wouldn’t play a trick on her to ruin her pasta.

After two shakes of the cinnamon, which she mixed into the tomato sauce, Pidge stirred both pans a little before moving to deal with her earlier mess.

Tentatively, Pidge reached out to touch the pizza pan. It had already cooled enough for her to hold the metal, and she reached for the metal spatula in order to lift the pizza and discard it.

The only problem, however, was that it was stuck.

“What the hell?” she murmured aloud, brow furrowing. Pidge redoubled her effort, wiggling the spatula and working it under the edge of the burnt crust. If she’d expected it to get easier after that, she was wrong, because she had to continue wiggling to get under the pizza. And when she was able to flip some of it over, she saw that the entire bottom was black.

Pidge groaned.

Muttering to herself, a string of swears and admonishments, she continued to pry the blackened crust from the metal pan. It was a slow process and she grew gradually more agitated as she worked.

Until she glanced over to the stove as the first drops of water rolled down the side of the pasta pan.

“Fuck,” she cursed again, abandoning the pizza and slipping back to the pasta on the stove. Pidge stirred it quickly, noting with disdain how a few noodles were sticking to the bottom and sides of her pan. “Fuck,” she repeated, trying to gently scrape the pieces away from the edges. Once satisfied, she glanced at the sauce, gave it a quick stir and grimacing when it felt like some of it had already been sticking to the pan. But as long as it was edible, she could count the endeavor as at least partially successful and not a disaster.

Pidge returned to prying the pizza from its pan, depositing the ruins in the trashcan that she had pulled over. There was nothing else she could do with it. Even strays wouldn’t have been able to eat that. It was so burnt it was probably poisonous. Not to mention that she didn’t even know if dogs or cats could safely eat pepperoni or cheese or any of that stuff. Some of the simplest things had the worst side effects, sometimes.

She noticed the smell next.

Something...burning? Burnt? Pidge paused, leaning forward to sniff at the last few pieces of pizza on the pan. And, once she’d deduced that the new stench wasn’t coming from her first ruined meal, her head whipped towards the stove again and she dropped the pan and spatula on the counter as she moved over to it.

She stirred the pasta–a little bit of sticking, but so far, so good.

Furrowing her brow, Pidge started to stir the sauce only to find that it was being stubborn. When she forcefully scraped some of the food from the pan, she stared blankly at it for a minute.

“Motherfucker,” she hissed, turning off the burner and staring at the lumps of black in the sauce. “Of all fucking days for me to mess up,” she muttered angrily, rummaging for some serving dishes in the cabinet. Once she had placed her dish of choice on the cabinet, she started to scoop the pasta out into it.

Halfway through, she realized that she could have used a strainer, but the scooping was mindless and helped her vent some of her frustrations, so she continued anyway. Doing it like this also helped her gauge how done her noodles were. There were some with dark spots, and she assumed those had been stuck to the sides, and some that looked...rubbery? But she tried one, and it was at least edible, if a little salty.

She turned, then, to the travesty that was her tomato sauce. The pungent smell of burning food was even more pronounced now and she wrinkled her nose as she reached for the pan.

“Dammit,” was the swear of choice this time. And then Pidge carefully tilted the pan over the pasta, pouring out what remained of the tomato sauce–or at least what still looked edible–before returning the pan to the stove and sighing, staring at her concoction. Pidge felt incredibly weary as she fished out a fork, and a little more than nervous. She knew her own prowess in the kitchen, and she knew better than to test her luck on most days. But today wasn’t most days.

As soon as she’d managed to spear a piece of pasta with her fork, dragging it through the meagre drizzle of sauce for good measure, she took a shuddering breath, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth.

The first thing she noticed was that it tasted burnt. She wrinkled her nose and kept her eyes closed while she tried to decipher the rest of the flavors that were assaulting her tastebuds. There was too much salt–that’s what she tasted next. And then...cinnamon. Of all things, cinnamon. It didn’t work with the sauce, it was extra awful with the salt, and Pidge felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

She forced herself to swallow and slammed her fork down.

The next course of action had her pulling her phone to her ear, fighting back the frustrated tears, as she waited for the call to connect.

“Pidge! How did it go?” Hunk’s voice was carefully level, and it only made her eyes burn more.

Softly, grudgingly, Pidge admitted, “I fucked up again.”

Her voice was a lot smaller than she’d hoped, and it cracked, and she knew if it had been Lance she never would have lived that particular moment down. But this was Hunk–kind, benevolent Hunk.

As much as she hated to admit it, though, she was calling to get the warm rush of feeling that his comforting skills always provided. He was the best person to go to–aside from Shiro and her family, of course–when she was feeling particularly down. So she listened as he hummed softly in understanding and started to reassure her with little sentences–”It’s okay, maybe next time. I’ll teach you sometime, Pidge. Don’t worry about it. Just clean everything up and wash the dishes and everything will be okay”–and she felt her frustration start to ease.

“Pidge?” the voice rang through the hall, decidedly not belonging to the man on the phone, and she cursed. Hunk cut off in the middle of comforting her.

“What’s wrong, Pidge?”

“Thanks for the help, Hunk. Shiro’s home, so I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sure thing, Pidge. You’ll be fine. Later!”

“Bye.”

She had just hung the phone up when Shiro poked his head into the kitchn, sniffing.

“Something smells burnt,” he observed, not unkindly, as he stepped into the room. He observed the scene as she shoved her hands in the pockets of her overlarge hoodie and failed to meet his eyes. He saw what was left of the pizza on the pan first, and with a glance she could see that he was putting the pieces together when he spotted the pasta.

Without asking anymore questions, and before Pidge could speak, he stepped forward and swept her into a hug, spinning her around.

“Wha–Shiro?” she asked, weakly, as she wrapped her arms around him.

“I thought you told me you couldn’t cook,” he said cheerfully, releasing her as he looked over at the pasta.

“I can’t,” she muttered, busy staring at her socks. “I messed up.”

“This doesn’t look too bad,” Shiro offered, gesturing to the meagre serving of pasta she’d dished up. He reached for the fork and she moved to stop him, opening her mouth to argue but unable to find the words to say.

Finally, as he looked at her inquisitively, Pidge settled for, “It tastes burnt. And I seasoned it wrong.”

“Well, you tried to cook for us, so the least I can do is try it.”

Shiro said it easily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. With a reluctant sigh, she moved to let him pick up her discarded fork and watched with a bit of guilt as he took a bite. At first he seemed relatively unfazed, and then she watched his eyebrows rise in confusion. He chewed a little more slowly, and realized he was trying to process the taste information he was receiving.

He swallowed after a few minutes and cleared his throat a little. “That was...interesting.”

“I told you I messed up,” Pidge decided that her socks were more entertaining yet again. She did spare him a glance, though, and then held his gaze.

“Well, that’s nothing that a little bit of practice can’t fix,” he said optimistically, smiling down at her as he placed the fork back in its previous position. He opened his mouth to speak again but paused, brow furrowing, as he sniffed. Confused, Pidge followed suit and found herself wrinkling her nose.

Her eyes trailed, in horror, down to the burner she thought she’d turned off.

“Fuck,” she repeated for probably the hundredth time, lunging around her boyfriend to click the burner off.

The burnt sauce in the pan had bubbled, and after a few moments Pidge realized, with horror, that the non-stick Teflon was bubbled and warped, not the sauce.

“Oh no,” she breathed, eyes prickling again. “Shit. Fuck. I mean...shit.”

A warm, heavy hand descended upon her shoulder, and she didn’t dare look up at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Pidge, I’ve got another pan that same size. Your mother makes sure I have plenty of cookware, remember?”

“Because she knows I can’t cook,” Pidge mumbled numbly.

“And because she’s a kind woman who likes to make sure you and all your friends are well taken care of,” Shiro added smoothly, slipping his arm around her shoulders as he moved the ruined pan to the sink to cool. “So for now, why don’t we order some thai and watch some SyFy  movies while you promise me not to mess around with the kitchen while I’m not at home. Okay?”

Pidge nudged Shiro in the ribs, snorting as she ducked out from under his arm. His methods were different than Hunk’s, of course, but they could never go wrong with thai and SyFy.

“Well, sure. You order the thai–I’ve gotta go grab something real quick.”

Shiro quirked an eyebrow at her, questioningly, but was already pulling his phone from the pocket of his black slacks. She beamed and dragged herself up on her tiptoes using his tie–which also pulled him down a little–to press a kiss to his cheek. She mouthed I’ll be right back as he smiled and pulled his phone up to his ear, and then she slipped into the bedroom, where her backpack was tossed haphazardly in the middle of the bed.

It took her only a few minutes, but she finally pulled out the box. It rattled and she grinned, turning and making her way back down the apartment hallway. She reached the living room from one direction just as Shiro stepped out of the kitchen, and he smiled at her again.

“The thai will be here in about forty minutes or so,” he announced, sliding his phone onto the wooden coffee table. “Now...what is it you had to rush off to do?”

“I went to get this,” she responded, crossing the distance between them to offer him the metal box in her hands. He glanced at it, then back to the tentative but excited grin on her face, and accepted it even though there was confusion written all over his face.

“What is it?” he asked slowly, reaching for the latch.

“You’ll see,” Pidge retorted simply. With a chuckle, Shiro opened the box and started to look through the bits and bobs inside. When he glanced back up at her, she found the words tumbling from her mouth without bidding. “I know it’s a little unorthodox, but I know you’ve been saying you wanted to get your prosthetic fixed and we already had the list of parts we needed, so I talked to dad about getting them for you. All the wires we need to remodel the inside should be there, plus some upgraded components, since you refused the last time the Garrison offered. And it’s just...well, it’s not an anniversary because those are annual, but it’s been six months now and I just thought I should try to do something for you because you’ve done a lot for me, and–”

Her words were muffled by his warm chest, and she sank into the hug, wrapping her arms around him and forgetting whatever she was planning to say next. She’d long lost her rehearsed speech, anyway, and had just been babbling.

“Thank you, Katie,” his tone was soft, and she squeezed him even closer.

“Thank you,” her voice was a lot smaller than she’d expected, but it was enough.

“I–” Shiro started, but the obnoxious clanging of the apartment’s doorbell cut him off. He extricated himself from the hug with an apologetic grin–it wasn’t even his fault, he didn’t have to feel bad about it–and moved to answer the door.

“Hi, thanks for ordering Hunan’s,” a familiar delivery woman stood there, offering Shiro a brown paper bag with a bright smile.

“I, uh, didn’t order Chinese,” Shiro offered her an awkward grin, and she laughed.

“Oh, I know. Your friend Hunk came to the shop and ordered it for you in person, and he already paid for it,” she pushed the bag into Shiro’s arms. “It’s your usual, anyway. You’ve got good friends, don’tcha?” with another laugh, she waved, “You guys have a good night!”

“Th-thanks,” Shiro leaned out the door, watching the delivery lady leave, and Pidge stood in the middle of the living room, dumbfounded, as Shiro turned around with the Hunan’s bag in his arms.

It smelled amazing after the concoctions Pidge had ruined.

“Well, I guess we’ll have Chinese and thai?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I guess,” Shiro shook his head with a grin. “I’m going to have to pay Hunk back for this.”

Pidge snorted, reaching up to unroll the bag in Shiro’s arms and peer in at the three boxes. One would be their fried rice, and the other two would be their normal entrées. She could smell them. Satisfied, she dropped back to her feet and rocked on her heels with a very pointed, “Hunk will never take your money.”

“I know,” he sighed, “but I still have to try.”

“Well, before that, you should probably change out of your nice clothes into something comfy. Especially if we’re going to chow down and watch SyFy movies!”

Shiro agreed, and with a grin, pushed the paper bag into her arms. “You get everything set up in here, then, and I’ll go get changed.”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and she let out an exaggerated groan and dragged out her spoken, “Fiiiiine.”

As he disappeared down the hallway and into the bedroom, Pidge deposited the takeout on the table, pulling it from the bag and rejoicing when she found the chopsticks at the bottom, as well as some plastic cutlery. It wouldn’t do to dirty any more dishes tonight, after all. And then she went about finding all of the SyFy movies they had, whether on DVD, Blu-Ray, or on the Roku.

One of the things she looked forward to most about their SyFy movie nights was the intense debate over which ones they’d watch.

Ten minutes later, they had just settled on a movie–Something Beneath–when the doorbell rang again. They shared a confused look, but then Pidge shrugged and got up to answer the door.

When she opened the door, she saw another delivery person...but he wasn’t wearing the thai restaurant’s uniform. Instead he was wearing Pizza My Heart’s uniform.

“Can I help you?” she asked tentatively.

“Is this where Shee-ro and Podge live?” he asked, trying to read a messy scrawl on his notepad. Pidge winced.

“I’m Pidge,” she answered instead, “and we didn’t order a pizza.”

“Nah, it says here that your friend Lens–or is it Lanny? Laney?–anyway, your friend ordered you a large pepperoni pizza. Here you go,” he handed her the box and, without looking back, turned and said, “Have a nice night!”

“Lance?” she said blankly at his back, but he didn’t hear. And then, when she stepped back inside and closed the door, Shiro first looked shocked at the box in her hand. The expression soon morphed into one of amusement.

“Let me guess, Lance?”

“Unless we have a friend named Lens, Lanny, or Laney, then yes, it was probably Lance,” she snorted, recovering from her own surprise to bring the pizza to the table. “And now we’ll have Chinese, pizza, and thai to eat while we watch some questionable cinematic masterpieces.”

“Hear, hear,” Shiro deadpanned, but they shared a laugh as she slipped back onto the couch next to him. He hit play on the movie and handed Pidge her Chinese entrée before grabbing a slice of pizza himself, with a wink. He leaned back, draping his arm around her shoulders and pressing another soft kiss to her temple, before focusing his attention forward.

And if they were mostly full when their thai actually arrived, it didn’t faze them too much. Whatever they didn’t eat would serve them both as lunch and possibly dinner tomorrow.

“Love you,” Pidge murmured warmly into her pad thai, curled up against her boyfriend’s side as the credits rolled and he moved to start the next movie.

“Love you, too,” Shiro responded affectionately around the slice of pizza dangling from his mouth, one arm around her shoulders and the other fiddling with the remote.