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Peanut Butter, noun
1. The United States is a leading exporter of peanut butter and itself consumes $800 million of peanut butter annually
2. Peanut butter inside a hollow chew toy is a method to occupy a dog with a favored treat.
Among Shiro’s long and growing list of things he loves about his girlfriend is the way she reacts in the presence of a dog.
Pidge looks at dogs the way most people look at babies: with wide eyes and a bright smile. In fact, dogs have been known to elicit more of a response from her than babies, something he learned the first time Lance invited them to one of his massive family gatherings. Given the distinct absence of any sort of robot, Pidge had ignored the milling infants and taken to spending the entire evening tailing and heaping affection onto the scruffy mutt belonging to one of Lance’s older sisters. It wasn’t for lack of trying on the part of Lance’s youngest nieces and nephews, who, strangely captivated by the small woman, had toddled behind her all night. Lance had teased Pidge about the children turning to the biggest baby to follow, but like with the kids, Pidge tuned him out in favor of the dog.
For months now he’s watched the way her head turns and her pace slows during their morning jogs when a neighbor with a dog passes. The joy that fills her face when she tells him about her coworkers bringing their dogs into the lab is the same sort she often reserves for those special moments when she gets her hands on a new piece of tech. And after eight years of being together, there’s nothing in this universe that makes his heart swell with happiness faster than seeing that crooked smile cross her lips.
He loves seeing her around dogs.
But he’s not quite so fond of how sharply perceptive she is whenever he’s trying to surprise her. Maybe it’s his terrible poker face, or how bad he is at lying, but by this point Shiro knows the only way he can get anything past her is to avoid raising suspicion at all costs.
He’s not sure this is the right way about it.
“Peanut butter?” he hisses. He cups a hand around the bottom of his phone and glances down the aisle, as if Pidge would somehow be one row over in a grocery store half way across town from her workplace.
Keith, understandably, sighs on the other end. “For the last time Shiro, yes, just get a thing of peanut butter. It’s cheap and not something that Pidge is immediately going to question when it shows up in your house.”
Shiro bounces from foot to foot as he assesses the spread of spreads. “Is there a specific type she likes?”
“Look, man, I don’t know what Pidge is into, that’s your job.”
He feels his face go hot. All of these years spent surviving against the toughest armies in the entire universe and Shiro is going to die of embarrassment in the bread aisle while wearing a pair of galaxy print joggers. Great.
“Not. Pidge. The dog.”
Keith laughs. It’s the moments like these where Shiro misses Keith’s mission sharpness. This was serious business.
“I know you want to surprise Pidge and all, but face it, she’s smarter than the both of us combined. Get a jar of smooth peanut butter and stop acting like it’s the end of the world. You’ve got to get over here to the shelter to sign the adoption papers before five. I swear, I’ve had to chase off like three other families who’d been eyeing this fluffball.”
As if on cue, Shiro hears a bark on the other end of the line. He grabs the peanut butter and books it.
…
“What’s this?”
Shiro takes a deep breath, steeling himself before he drops his head back over the couch to look at where Pidge stands in the kitchen. Don’t say ‘peanut butter, don’t say peanut butter’ he warns himself.
“Peanut butter.”
She snorts, but doesn’t seem to notice the way his eye twitches as he tries to hold back his mortified expression. Twelve hours to P-Day (Puppy Day) and he was going to fail. Luckily for him, Pidge just shakes her head and keeps rummaging through the pantry for a snack.
“There’s not a chance you’re making cookies, is there?” she asks, clearly trying her best to keep her voice neutral.
“Not a chance, but I can ask Hunk if he’s free this weekend. He’d mentioned wanting help going over course materials before the semester starts. I got the peanut butter for my shakes.”
That was convincing, right? It’s not like he was totally far from the truth. He and Hunk had needed to meet up soon, and he kind of owed Hunk one for storing all of the puppy equipment for him this week.
Pidge gives him a long, hard look. How she manages to look so imposing in one of his ratty tee-shirts and a tiny pair of running shorts, Shiro’s not sure, but he certainly feels his heart give a lurch.
“I can’t believe the Garrison suckered both of you into teaching, and I especially can’t believe you’d deny me peanut butter cookies until this weekend. That’s such a long time,” she says.
He has to physically restrain himself from sighing in relief. Eleven hours, fifty-eight minutes to P-Day. He might make it.
“Do you really want me to make cookies?”
She seems to consider for a moment before wrinkling her nose. “Pass.”
They both laugh.
After finding a suitable snack, Pidge meanders back over to the couch and plops down next to him. He flips the channel to something suitably mindless for the two of them - some sort of nature documentary - and settles in to chat about their day. As she nestles up against his side, he can’t help but wonder how much cozier this will all feel tomorrow, when there’s a new addition to share the sofa with.