Work Text:
“You certainly are an unusual little earthling,” Allura said, leaning forward with delicate hands on her knees, probably studying Pidge through those glassy green eyes. “Are most earthlings as quiet as you, and Lance is the annoying exception?” She was way too close for comfort, close enough that Pidge’s sensitive nose picked up on a faint perfume that somehow hadn’t faded away during Allura’s time in cryosleep. Pidge squirmed away from the taller alien lady, resisting the urge to hold up a defensive arm.
“Lance isn’t annoying,” Pidge rolled her eyes, turning away. “Listen, I’ve got stuff to do.”
“You have no more things to do now than when you were talking casually with your friends,” Allura pointed out, one eyebrow raised.
Pidge snorted. Called out, but undefeated. “Goodbye, Allura. Sorry you don’t have any friends your age to talk to.” The emphasis in those sentences is just badass. She whipped around, head up, and strolled to the double doors.
Allura was silent behind her, but Pidge didn’t turn around while she walked away. The doors shut a few moments after Pidge had left the bridge. Allura probably wouldn’t have followed her out, right?
Good. Pidge needed time with her real friends without that sparkly princess interfering. She stopped with her dramatically strutting away and scanned the hallways near the Bridge for Hunk and Lance, her two best friends. They’d hang out, joke around, and pick up on what they used to do in their free time sans complain about homework. That did take up around 40% of their conversation time, probably due to Lance.
Pidge peered around a metallic corner. On the opposite side of the hallway, gossamer white-and-pink skirt swished out of sight, brushing against the floor of where the castle mirrored itself symmetrically. The princess was probably heading towards an elevator for the closest corner of the castle.
So Pidge had been wrong about Allura staying behind in the Bridge. So what? One error in such a minor issue didn’t mean any of her other assumptions were wrong. She would stay with Hunk and Lance and wouldn’t have to deal with Allura for the rest of the day.
Pidge set off to the central elevator, headed up one floor to the Paladins’ rooms. She stepped off the elevator and heard laughter from Hunk’s room.
“How’s it going?” Pidge yanked off a few pieces of armor and yeeted them onto Hunk’s dresser like she owned the place. Great to let off some steam. She sat down next to Lance on the floor.
“Lance thinks we have no business changing the Planck constant just because it’s a constant. Hey, what’s up with you?”
Lance snorted. “Come on, Pidge! It’s in the name. ‘Constant’”
Avoiding the question, Pidge smirked. “So you do understand at least a little bit of scientific language?”
Lance’s grin dropped into a pout. The door opened behind Pidge, and she watched his little frown transform into a grin.
“Hey there, Princess.”
“I need an engineer; someone who can assist me and Coran for the time being,” Allura said, looking away from Lance. The gratingly soft, faint scent of shampoo or soap hit Pidge’s nostrils. It wasn’t unpleasantly scented, just kind of girly.
“What is this ‘time being’?” Pidge looked up at Allura through narrowed eyes. “Speak normal English.”
“Damn,” Hunk said, side-eyeing them. Pidge got a little drop in her stomach. Oops.
“...As I was saying,” Allura said, “Hunk, will you accompany me to the cryopod chambers?” Allura looked tall and willowy from Pidge’s spot on the floor, her dress swooshing a bit when she moved. Pidge never hung out with people who looked remotely like her, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to in the future. Allura was an alien, but she was so much more alien then that guy Coran.
“Sure, I guess,” Hunk said. He got up, setting the small machine he had been working on on the bed. He turned to Pidge and Lance. “Sorry, guys. Be back in… whenever I’ll be back.”
“We won’t have too much fun without you,” Lance said, back to normal emotional range.
“But I think we’d have much more fun if the Princess stayed.”
Pidge rolled her eyes. Allura nodded politely and stepped away from the doorway, Hunk following her and closing the door with a clunk. They’d probably be gone for hours.
“So…” Lance said. Pidge turned back to him. “What do you think about Allura?”
“She’s an alien.” Pidge said. “She’s probably some sort of veiled threat.”
“You mad ‘cause she’s prettier than you?”
“No way!” Pidge said loudly. “I’m a genius. I’m not jealous of some pretty princess of nowhere.”
“You’re acting like someone in a book who was secretly jealous of someone would act,” Lance said, popping one eyebrow.
“Brushing up on high literature, are we?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Allura, Allura, Allura. All you want to talk about is Allura.” Pidge threw up her arms. “What’s so great about Allura?”
“You asked?”
“No-”
“She’s pretty, she has great hair, she’s a good fighter, she has weird alien eyes and ears. Plus she’s got good fashion sense.”
“And she has boobs.”
“You’re catching on.”
Pidge sighed through her teeth. “Good to know.” She ran over the image of Allura in her head. Her ears were a little pointy, yes, just enough to hint that she wasn’t human. How was that? Was alien biology similar to humans’, or were there minor differences mirroring the differences in the shape of their ears?
Pidge was pondering this long after Lance made her lie down in her own room and turn off the lights. Finally, tired from the day’s thoughts, her mind slipped into unconsciousness.
Hair fell and brushed against the cold steel countertop. Snip. Snip. Pidge focused her eyes on the mirror and stared at her newly shortened hair. The tangles stood out among the strands and clumps of her hair, and the lights hit it in so many new directions, dulling its texture. She hadn’t brought any of her favorite dresses, just the grayest, darkest, plainest clothes she could find. It was time to learn how to be a man.
The next morning, Pidge was treated to at least two comments about Allura from Lance in the bridge. All of her interpersonal feelings aside, Lance was getting kind of creepy. Allura had sent him odd looks, but hadn’t outright confirmed or denied her interest in him, so it was hard to tell her feelings one way or another.
Pidge yawned in her control chair. The Paladins had all been called to the bridge as usual, but there’d been a lack of exciting enemies or interesting sights to watch out of the immersive domed screen. Pidge would have been studying the screen itself, but Coran had forbidden that. Speaking of Coran, and speaking of speaking, he was speaking.
“We need someone smart to go on this mission, to be a guide for a fighter,” Coran said.
Pidge raised her hand like she was back in school. “How do you define smart? I can go.”
“Well, I was thinking Hunk, but if you really want to-”
“Yes!” Coran had proposed a mission to recover lost parts of the prototypes of the Castle and the Lions, and it was the kind of archaeological expedition Pidge had dreamed of being a part of since she had learned of alien life.
“It’s fine. I’ll get my day,” Hunk said.
“Say thank you to Hunk,” Lance ordered Pidge.
“Gracious thanks, my sweet darling boy,” Pidge clasped her hands over her heart. “When do we leave?”
“That will be up to your partner,” Coran said. “We’re not exactly on a suspenseful schedule here.”
“I’m thinking in exactly one point seven vargas,” Allura said. She wasn’t in her station like she usually was, but standing near a wall to Pidge’s left.
“Stop ordering me ar- no,” Pidge gasped. She’d be on the expedition of her dreams with the Princess at her side, during her every movement. Fighting alongside her, watching her, offering to help. No, assist. Heh. May I assist you, Paladin?!??
Every single one of the Paladins was on normal speaking terms with Allura. Pidge would have to shut her mouth or Coran (Allura’s uncle, presumably) would kick her off the mission. Pidge clenched her teeth, pretending to busy herself with something on her dashboard. Rythmically tapping her fingers on useless windows of code eventually calmed her down enough to speak, and she chatted with Hunk for the next hour or so.
Pidge dragged herself out of her control chair. She set off at a fast pace to the armor room, but the soft taps of her worst fear’s high heels echoed across the bridge as Allura caught up to her.
“I cannot wait. We are going to bond during this mission,” Allura said, and Pidge heard the smirk in the Princess’s voice. It surprised her how much she didn’t like this hint of what Allura was like under her static persona.
Then again, Allura only seemed to get cold when she had to give a speech to everyone, or deliver instructions. She’d been playful with Pidge yesterday, before Pidge had stormed off and left to hang out with the guys.
“...Don’t you think?” Allura said.
“I do think. More than you do, for sure.” Pidge fully snapped back to reality.
“Yes, you’re very smart,” Allura said. “And so am I. We’re going to find these artifacts in no time.”
“Why would you want to find old tech anyways?” Pidge snapped, throwing open the door with one hand, walking into the room first. No ‘ladies first’ for the Princess.
Pidge walked over to her armor and pressed the button to open the chamber. The mini-particle barrier glass fizzed open to reveal the perfect suit of armor. Pidge started to change, then realized Allura hadn’t made any comebacks. She looked behind her. Allura was still standing there, near the doorway.
“You speak ill of my father.” Allura’s glassy eyes honed in on Pidge, her perfect dark eyelashes low as she glared at Pidge.
What? Pidge ran over what she’d said earlier. She’d implied Allura wasn’t smart, she’d ignored Allura a bit, then the latest thing she’d said was about wanting to find old tech.
What connection did Allura have to old Altean tech?
Oh. Old Altean tech, inexplicably linked to the mechanic of all mechanics, alchemist of all alchemists, late King Alfor. He was a fine dude, Pidge was sure. But Allura had taken Pidge’s ignorance of Allura’s out-of-character interest in the tech to mean Pidge disrespected Alfor?
“I am doing this for him,” Allura said. “These buildings and war machines are what he stood for.”
“All right, all right,” Pidge said, averting her eyes and pulling on her leg armor. She put on the rest of the suit listening to the rustles of Allura changing into her pilot suit. Finally they turned to face each other.
“We’re taking a pod, I assume,” Pidge said. “You go set that up. I’ll get my bayard.”
Once they were in the pod there was no room for Pidge to sit far away from Allura. Allura was in the pilot seat while Pidge sat next to her, the controls shining many inches above the height Pidge could type at.
Allura set the pod down gently in the barren rock fields of the unassuming planet Dyad. Dyad was essentially a solar system, consisting of a warm planet and a cool planet orbiting each other, and heat-wise, balancing each other out. They had landed on the warm side, been on the surface for about three minutes, and the back of Pidge’s neck was already sweaty. Allura’s hair was up, but her suit was thinner, and she wanted to get out of the sun as much as Pidge did.
“That cave is where my sensors are pointing,” Allura said, holding out her wrist computer. They hopped around the field of rocks for about a hundred feet, arriving at a small opening in a cliff. Raw gems surrounded the cave opening, glowing faintly.
“Ooh, shiny,” Allura said, pausing to touch one.
“We’re not here for this,” Pidge said, striding ahead.
They delved deep into the cave, following both of their sensors, their tools, and Allura’s quintessential instincts. They found the artifacts, and were near the exit, when the cave rumbled.
Rocks fell, and one hit Pidge’s shoulder and bounced off of her backpack.
“Thank gods that didn’t hit my head,” Pidge said, walking faster. Allura followed behind her.
“Pidge.” Allura’s voice was hard with anger. Pidge walked a few more feet, then paused and turned around right before the exit.
“What?”
“That rock that did not hurt you? It broke one of the artifacts.”
“No!” Pidge yanked the backpack off of her shoulder and knelt down to check. Yes, one of the artifacts had been broken. No, it hadn’t been her fault!
“You will be fixing that when we arrive at the Castle,” Allura ordered Pidge. Pidge didn’t wait for her, walking quickly to the ship.
Later -
“It’ll be a few vargas before I have to even put my hands on the controls,” Allura said, her delicate fingers brushing the glowies of the ship’s command center. From how close she is, the two sitting shoulder-to-rib-cage in the pod, Pidge can see how revealing Allura’s pilot suit is. Allura’s hot. And not even objectively. Pidge has always had feelings for every gender, but Allura’s the first girl she wants to bring in close, to kiss, to put her hands everywhere on.
Allura is intoxicating like the perfume that comes off of her in clouds, like the sunlight that reflects off of her earrings and eyes. Pidge doesn’t know how much of Allura’s femininity she wants to face, but she wants to take advantage of it. To pull Allura in.
“Okay, put your hands on me, then,” Pidge blurts out.
“...What?” Allura delicately cocks her head, her small mouth open just a bit. It’s the first time Pidge has seen her genuinely stunned.
“We have hours,” Pidge said, the semi-logic coming out of her in a rush. “You’re attractive. Maybe I’m cute. Let’s make out.”
Allura took a few moments, deciphering all the slang Pidge used, most likely. “Just so that there are no misunderstandings between us, you want to kiss me?”
“Yes!” Pidge shouted, exasperated. “Just go ahead! Then we’ll never talk again! Or we’ll talk as much as you like!” She clenched her fists by her sides.
“This seems fine with me,” Allura said. She turned to face Pidge, delicately moving one leg up on the seats. Pidge’s mind raced. What had she gotten herself into this time?
She had no time to think any more before Allura grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in. Pidge’s arms naturally fell around Allura’s waist. Their bodies hit each other, Allura’s chest around Pidge’s head height, but Allura bent down and Pidge leaned up and kissed her.
Allura cupped Pidge’s head in her hands, her short, fine fingernails grazing Pidge’s neck so lightly Pidge would have shivered onto the floor if they hadn’t been locked together. Minutes passed.
Allura’s hand was on Pidge’s waist, Pidge straining up to meet her face, grabbing her, and they could have gone further had the ship not deactivated auto-pilot and made a telling ‘beep’. Allura jumped, and Pidge lost her grip and almost fell face-first into Allura’s lap, but pulled away.
“We are out of the conflux’s path,” Allura said. “It is less than a varga to the Castle, so I shall pilot.” Her earrings made pleasant sparkles of light flit across the cockpit.
Allura and Pidge never, never mentioned a second of the time in the ship to their friends, their friends whom they trusted more than they trusted each other.