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All he wanted was a quiet drink. That’s all. Just a quiet bar in the ass end of nowhere where he could stew with his own ‘cynical’ and ‘mistrusting’ opinions and no one would bother him. No disappointed looks, snide remarks, and no hypocritical princesses.
Keith waved the bartender down and ordered something from the tap. He didn’t even care what, not really, and he didn’t even want to get drunk. Just something to take the edge off. Before he hit something. Something Lotor shaped.
Pidge had escaped the diplomatic discussion as soon as possible. She might be the queen of unpopular opinion, but Lotor creeped her out. Shiro and Allura--of all people!--were giving their conveniently timed rescuer the benefit of what should have been a rather impressive doubt and Pidge had had enough. When Matt found her later, he’d told her that she wasn’t as alone in her opinion as she’d thought. Keith hadn’t taken the decision to accept Lotor to the coalition any better than she had.
She knew she liked him for a reason.
The bar she found him in reminded her of that cliched shithole they’d stumbled out of a year ago, but this time she wasn’t trying to be incognito when she walked in. Some heads turned when she strode past, but she wasn’t immediately recognizable in her civvies, so they were content to ignore her and she them.
Her target was sitting at the bar.
She leaned against the bar next to him, “Come here often?”
Keith’s lip twitched as he fought back a grin. “How’d you find me?”
“Luxite is pretty uncommon,” Pidge shrugged, “wasn’t hard to scan for it.”
Keith nodded. “Drink?”
“Are we celebrating something?”
He scoffed into his glass. “Apparently.”
The bartender handed her a glass and she held it up to Keith. “To the fall of reason in favor of bad judgement and future disaster.”
Keith clinked his glass to hers and they drank.
“You forgot hypocrisy.” Keith muttered. “You left before Allura started on how not all Galra are untrustworthy.”
“To your face?”
Keith nodded.
“Damn.” They toasted again and finished their drinks. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged and ordered another round. “I’m not a Paladin anymore. I don’t think I can really tell them what to do.”
Pidge sighed. “When it blows up in their faces, I’ll tell them I told you so for the both of us.”
“If trusting him doesn’t get you all killed.” His grip on the glass was strong enough, she could hear his joints creak. “I never thought Shiro would be so reckless.”
A loud bang drew Pidge and Keith out of their glasses to look around the room. One of the patrons had slammed his drink down on the table and was glaring at the two of them. Several of his buddies were equally agitated and throwing them openly hostile looks.
“How dare you talk about the Paladins of Voltron that way?” He stood up from his chair now that he had their attention. “They saved all our lives, Shiro is a hero, and they deserve your trust and respect.”
“You realize who you’re talking to, right?” Pidge stared at the drunk incredulously.
“Oh yeah. Heard his disrespect loud and clear. A former Paladin, probably an ungrateful coward. No wonder they kicked your sorry ass out.”
Keith looked down, fists clenched, but he said nothing in his own defense. Again. He never defended himself against slights to his character, not when people called him inadequate, not when Allura had treated him like dirt after learning he was Galra, not even against Allura’s hypocrisy earlier, and now some drunk who didn’t even know how he was talking to.
Pidge had had enough. If Keith wasn’t going to set this dude straight, she would.
“Hold these, please.” Pidge handed Keith her glasses after carefully folding them and he took them, a little confused. She ignored his questioning look and stepped between Keith and the drunk. “Say that again to my face.”
“I said he’s a disrespectful, ungrateful coward.” The drunk stated. His friends laughed as he loomed over Pidge, trying to intimidate her through size and stench.
“Babe…” Keith objected.
“He can’t even fight his own battles! Sends in his little girlfriend to fight for him.”
“Or he knows you aren’t worth his time, seeing as his little girlfriend can kick your ass.”
The drunk and his buddies laughed, then he reared back and took a swing at her. Pidge dodged the highly telegraphed move easily and slammed her fist into the sensitive nerve just above his elbow then followed it up with a kick to the inside of his leg, just above the knee, causing both limbs to go painfully limp.
The drunk crashed to his hands and knees, favoring his uninjured side heavily and groaned in pain. His fellows stopped laughing and got to their feet angrily, advancing menacingly toward her.
Another loud thunk of glass hitting table, and Keith stood as well, a comfortingly dangerous presence just over her shoulder.
“Touch her, and I’ll break your hands one bone at a time.” He growled.
The others paused, glanced at each other, and then charged with a yell. Keith picked up his barstool and tossed it into the closest guy. Pidge used the drunk still on the ground as a springboard, jumping off his back, swinging on the light fixture to land behind the brawlers.
Keith picked up the barstool again, by the legs, and shoved the seat into his attacker’s face, stunning him, following it up with a punch to the temple to knock him out. He flipped the barstool around and caught another attacker’s arm in the legs when he tried to take swing, following it up with a quick jab to the nose. Pidge caught the wrist of an attacker as he tried to punch her, turned and used his momentum to toss him into the table. The next punch sent her way was caught and met with a series of quick hits to the pressure points along the arm, disabling it.
Keith used the barstool and trapped arm to move the dazed man to the side where he slumped against the bar. Keith stepped over him and ducked a punch to the face from his next target. A side kick to the inside of his leg, just above the knee, sent him to his knees and Keith boxed his ears for good measure. The last man standing was already injured by Pidge, but he was still going. Keith grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him bodily away from Pidge, into a nearby pillar, dazing him. He shoved him toward his friends at the bar and then stood next to Pidge.
“You good?” He asked.
Pidge took a breath and nodded. They turned to the pile of drunks they’d left and sighed. Shiro was going to kill them.
“Bartender, round of drinks for them,” Pidge motioned to the group and transferred the GAK. “Sorry about the mess.”
The bartender just shook his head and chuckled, pouring a round. “You Paladins are impressive. Their own fault for challenging you.”
Pidge was not currently wearing her armor, but there were only so many humans in this part of the universe. She was more surprised they hadn’t recognized her.
She waved to him with a smile and then her and Keith left.
“Oh.” Keith stopped and dug through his pocket, pulling out her glasses. “Here.”
“Thanks.” She smiled and put them back on.
“You clearly don’t actually need them. Why wear them?” He asked.
Pidge smirked. “Aesthetic.”
Keith shook his head and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her to his side as they walked, more relaxed than he’d felt in a while.
All he’d wanted was a quiet drink, but maybe what he’d needed was a reminder he had someone on his side.