Work Text:
She figured if she worked on something else for a while, the insecurities would slip from her mind. At least, that was the hope. The dream. The knots in her stomach that forced her hands to keep typing, keep performing the math in her head, keep whispering calculations and words and code that didn’t make sense to those unfamiliar with the jargon-- just something to keep her mind off of it.
And yet, it still bothered her. And that was the most damning thing about it.
Since when did she care so much about something no one else did?
(Or at least, pretended they didn’t care.)
But it had been a long, long time since she told the team. A long, long time since everyone seemed very cool with it. No one treated her any less differently.
After all, she was still Pidge.
Just Pidge.
But she continued to contemplate the stupid thought that lingered in her head, the stupid thought that made her stop her calculations and buzzed about like an annoying bug. Stupid. It was stupid. Totally stupid.
After all, what did it matter that she was still treated as the same old Pidge before she revealed the most well-kept secret she had? She was still Pidge, no doubt. They had no reason to pretend she was any less of a Paladin, a teammate, a friend just because she was a girl. But that was kind of annoying too.
Pidge didn’t think she was girly in the least bit. Not in the same way Allura was, or the other girls at the Garrison were. She didn’t have the time for it, she thought bitterly, continuing to tap at the keys of her handmade laptop. No need to overthink it now.
But she was overthinking it. And that was annoying.
She stopped typing, resting her hands on the keyboard, scrutinizing the screen.
She couldn’t ask Allura or Shiro, because that was like asking her parents, and that was weird and she knew what they would say.
She couldn’t ask Coran, because he’d just go off on another one of his anecdotes, and she’d have to find a way to escape an hour long story again (last time she ended up crawling through the vents).
She couldn’t ask Keith, mostly because she figured he would try to be analytical about it or try to find some logic-- and this time, logic probably wasn’t what she wanted or needed to hear.
Which left two options, the two people who’ve known her longest, who knew her best and yet don’t know her at all.
Hunk would probably say something akin to what Allura or Shiro would say. Scratch his name off the list.
That left her with one option, and if she was honest, she dreaded it.
Cause he never took anything seriously to begin with.
(Not entirely true, but she was willing to find any excuse to not confide in him.)
Cause he’d laugh it off, try to make a joke of it.
But also, when he tried, he really did try to care and answer honestly.
Hm.
Mind made up, Pidge saved her work and closed her laptop, inhaling, exhaling.
Stupid question. Stupid thing to ask.
But Lance wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, at least she hoped.
She got up out of bed, pushing the button to open the door, and took a few steps down the hall to where the Blue Paladin lived.
It’d be fine.
It’s only Lance.
She knocked softly, inhaling, exhaling, hoping the tremors in her hands would stop.
It was a dumb, weird question and he’d give a dumb, weird answer and that’d be fine.
Duh.
He didn’t answer immediately, and in those few precious seconds Pidge considered bolting back to her room. But she stood still, and waited, and he came.
“Huh?” Lance greeted, staring down at the shorter that stood in his doorway, eyes wide, hands fidgeting. “Sup, Pidge.”
“I have something to ask you.” Pidge blurted, averting her gaze away, but before she did she watched his face contort in confusion, and she regretted every decision that lead her to this point.
“Ooookay,” Lance began, his head cocking to the side. “Shoot.”
She didn’t, for a moment. Instead her honey-toned eyes flicked between her feet and the ceiling and his shoulder that leaned into his doorframe. Barely glanced over his face before she was back to staring at her feet. Inhale. Exhale.
“How do you see me?”
Silence.
She snapped her head back up to see the confusion again in his face, as he stared at her, trying to make sense of the weird, dumb question she just asked him.
“Sorry, what?”
“How do you see me?” Pidge repeated. She felt her face heat up, her glasses beginning to fog at the bottom corners. “I-I mean… like, do you see me still as a boy? Like the weird guy Pidge who never hung out with you and Hunk? O-or like, a girl, or just a teammate, or-- sorry, this is weird.”
Weird. Yeah.
She watched the confusion in his face flicker away and get replaced by understanding. A hand went up to catch his chin, and he cocked his head down at her.
He was thinking.
“You’re Pidge.”
The response left her dumbfounded. Downright flabbergasted. He continued to scrutinize her face for a second, as if he was trying to think of another, better answer. He shrugged.
“Yeah. Just Pidge.”
Just Pidge.
That should’ve been comforting to hear. No awkward justifications, no babbling and struggling to find the right words that wouldn’t make her upset.
Just Pidge.
“Oh. Okay,” Pidge managed to finally say once she realized how long she was standing there and how long she must’ve been staring at him. She broke the gaze, looking back down the hall to where her room was. “Thanks.”
And with that, Just Pidge sauntered off and Lance looked after her. Her door shut. So did his. And Lance found himself leaning against it and feeling a sudden desire to kick himself in the nuts.
Just Pidge.
Way to go, idiot.
The way she asked the question made him think “Just Pidge,” wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. But then again, Pidge was hard to read, and even when she seemed nervous or scared or anything that wasn’t childish or analytical or pissed, she never made it clear what she was feeling. But what could he say?
“How do you see me?”
“You’re Pidge.”
Period.
“Interesting.”
Period.
“Pretty damn cool.”
Exclamation point. With finger guns and a wink.
“Smart.”
Probably the smartest person he knew. Exclamation point.
“The Green Paladin, duh.”
Period. A kick in the shin he would deserve.
“Pretty.”
Question mark.
“Beautiful.”
Ellipses… Question mark.
He smacked himself in the face for good measure after those last two. Words he’s thought but he’d never say out loud because that’d be weird, for like, everyone. Pidge was his friend, his nerdy little teammate from the Garrison, his compadre, his bro, his better half when Hunk wasn’t around. Pidge was just… Pidge.
“How do you see me?” He found himself repeating the question, guilt tugging at his heartstrings. She probably didn’t want to hear that, right? The way she looked at him, the way she didn’t look at him when she asked him that. She came to him for a reason. Right?
She deserved a better answer than “Just Pidge.”
Eventually.
Pidge had almost forgotten about the incident with Lance. It was a few days ago, but he wasn’t talking to her and she was avoiding him and neither of them had gone back to normal like she hoped they would. She figured he didn’t care anymore. After all, she was trying to move past that. There were more important things to worry about than Lance being stupid. Than Pidge being stupid.
After all, she just got swept off her feet again. Quite literally.
Pidge landed on the mat with a hard crash and an ugly exhale. A robotic arm extended out to her.
“You’re not focusing.” Shiro said, without much thought to it. Pidge grumbled, taking his hand and standing up. His voice softened. “You okay, Pidge?”
“Fine,” the quip was short and angry and Pidge regretted it immediately. Shiro’s gaze hardened at her, and he turned to the other training Paladins.
“Take five.”
He turned back to face her, placing a hand on her back, carting her away from the rest of the team. She looked back briefly.
For a second, she thought Lance was looking back at her, but it may have been a trick of the light.
“Okay, you got me.” Pidge said as soon as she and the older paladin were out of earshot. “I’m totally not okay.”
Shiro sighed a little, crossing his arms as he scrutinized the teenage girl. “Figured as much. Whatever it is, Pidge, I’m here for you. You know that.”
“I know. But… it’s weird. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I just…” Shiro’s eyes softened. “I just want you to know you can talk to me. Really. About anything.”
Pidge nodded, but didn’t say much else. Shiro would say something really reassuring and kind, she figured, something to still her nerves for the moment but not much else. Besides, she didn’t really know what she could talk to him about.
Then again.
“I think Lance and I are fighting.”
Shiro quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah. He’s… been acting weird.”
“Weirder than normal?” Shiro thought aloud, looking back to where they left the other three, who sat around drinking from water pouches and quietly speaking. Lance wasn’t facing them. “Any particular reason you guys would be… fighting?”
“I… I don’t know.” And that was frustrating. Pidge didn’t like not knowing things.
“Well,” Shiro exhaled. “You guys are good friends. I’m sure whatever’s going on will work itself out. Just hang in there, okay? Maybe, you know, talk to him?”
Cause talking to him did wonders for her last time.
She didn’t feel like telling Shiro that.
“Right. Thanks.”
Lance didn’t know what he expected when Shiro asked to talk privately after training. He thought he locked eyes with Pidge, too, but that was probably a trick of the light.
It was just him and Shiro in the training room. Shiro with his concerned dad face, Lance preparing every excuse he had.
“Lance--”
“Whatever it was, it was probably Keith. As you know, Shiro, I’m an innocent party. Always.”
Shiro snorted at the boy, shoving his shoulder gently. “Alright, not what I was planning on talking about. It’s about Pidge, actually.”
Lance felt his spine go rigid, and he let out a defeated sigh. Of course, Pidge would go to Shiro at the first hint of trouble. It was really Lance’s fault, then, for avoiding the shit out of her in recent days. What happened to acting totally natural?
“Go on and say it, buddy, I don’t have all night.” Lance finally said, arms crossing defiantly across his chest.
“Say what?”
“That I’m a big jerk and you’re gonna shove me in the airlock and send me out without a suit on.”
That earned a laugh from the Black Paladin.
“No. Nothing like that. Just… Pidge is your friend, right?”
“She is.”
“Then maybe you should start treating her like one. I don’t know all the details as to why you two aren’t getting along so well, but you’re both still a part of this team, and need to work together to solve any issues. Got it?”
“Ugh,” Lance grumbled. “Why do you have to be so right all the time? Makes it harder for me to be envious of you in peace.”
Shiro squeezed his shoulder before standing up. “It’s kind of my job.”
And that’s how Lance found himself standing in front of Pidge’s door that night, fumbling with his hands. He had to apologize, after all. Pidge deserved at least that much.
He knocked a couple of times, and for a brief moment prayed she was asleep and he could avoid this confrontation and worry about it later. That was infinitely easier than overcoming awkward stares and half-assed sentences.
He forgot he was there, not until he heard the snapping of fingers and a fluffy-haired, tired looking girl standing in the threshold of her room. He blinked at her in surprise, and her honey eyes rolled.
“Hi, Lance.”
“Uh, hi.” Lance finally said. They stared at each other. He wondered quietly how upset she was with him. “I didn’t wake you up, right?”
A sigh. “No. I wasn’t trying to sleep. Just… working, I guess.”
“You work way too hard.”
"And you hardly work.”
He let out a laugh, and both of them were grateful for the lift in tension. No longer were they crossing tightropes with a fear of tripping and landing in early graves. Not as much as they were before.
“I, uh, actually… need to talk to you, Pidge. For real. Heart to heart.”
He pressed his fingers together, wondering what Pidge was thinking behind those curious eyes, wondering what the gears were turning in her head. How fascinating it must be in there. How weirdly eager he was, wanting to look into those parts of her mind that he couldn’t see on her face.
Weird.
“Okay. I guess.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, staring up at him, waiting. Lance cleared his throat.
“Okay. Uh. First of all, I’m sorry. For being stupid.”
She frowned. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Har-har. You know what I mean. Also I’m going to have to ask you to not make any smart-ass retorts for just a few seconds, okay? Cool?”
She nodded, a sign for him to keep going. Lance found himself averting his gaze, then, talking in the direction of the wall and not her.
“I didn’t know how to react. And honestly? Still don’t. I thought, yanno, hey, talking to you is easier than talking to any other person. After all, you’re Pidge! One of my best friends! I shouldn’t make it weird! But then I made it weird and now things are confusing and I’ve been avoiding you and I’m sorry. I’m serious. I’m sorry.”
Her eyebrows seemed to raise with every word he said, her mouth forming the smallest ‘o,’ her cheeks coloring slightly. She cleared her throat.
“Okay. I’m sorry, too. I made it weird.”
“N-no. You… you came to me cause you needed to talk to someone, right? I blew it.”
“Y-yeah, but I was also kind of glad you said that.”
He stopped, turning back to face her, blue orbs meeting soft brown. She gave him a small smile, a gesture of reassurance. “Seriously?”
“I mean. It wasn’t a bad answer. And when I think about it, I guess… I guess I’m really glad to have heard that and not anything else. You’re right. I’m Pidge. I shouldn’t have… worried about it.”
There was hesitation in the way she said those words, and Lance could suddenly see through her cracks and hear the worry and emptiness and lack of commitment to what she was saying. Maybe she was thinking if she said it enough, she’d believe it. And Lance found himself realizing that “you’re Pidge,” wasn’t what he wanted her to believe about herself.
“Ask me again.” Lance blurted. Pidge blinked, bewildered.
“What?”
“What you asked me the other night. Ask me again.”
There was sincerity in his tone, and Pidge fumbled with her hands, gaze averting for a moment before she was looking at him again, brows furrowed, a twinkle in her eyes.
“H-how do you see me?”
“You’re not Just Pidge,” Lance said quickly. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened to protest and he lifted a hand to stop her before words came babbling out.
“You’re not. Really. You’re not just Pidge, or just the Green Paladin, or just a teammate or just a friend. You’re like… this crazy smart computer person! You’re interesting and brave and admirable and a lot of things that I wish I was! Hell, you’re the most amazing person I know, Pidge, and I don’t see you as anything less than amazing. And I shouldn’t have said you were Pidge and acted like that was okay, you know?” Lance inhaled, and his hands were warm and a little sweaty and the words were catching in his throat but he kept looking at her, straight at her, and his voice got softer instead of louder.
“Lance…” There was a crack in her voice. And Lance shook his head.
“Not done. Pidge, you’re…” Ellipses. A whisper. “Beautiful.”
For a moment, neither spoke, and it almost felt as if there was nothing else but each other in the whole of the galaxy. And Lance could feel his heart hammering out of his chest at the confession, shocked at his own honesty and affection towards the girl in front of him, and he realized almost as soon as she did that every word he said was something true.
Pidge blinked something out of her eye. She pressed a fist over her lips, hoping to conceal the smile that was forming. A laugh bubbled out of her, and Lance found himself smiling too, giddy to hear a twinkle of humor come from her, and he joined her in the suppressed giggles as to not wake everyone in the castleship.
Neither could tell how much time had passed since they stood in her door, desperately trying to hold back laughter, pretending like the other was dumber than themselves and that all the words spilled weren’t anything more than words.
But neither of them could convince themselves of that, and they continued to laugh instead over how ridiculous and silly it seemed, to pretend that they were just words when they knew they were so much more.
Eventually the laughter died and they just stood there, two people leaning in a doorway, staring at each other, unsure of the next move, how to proceed into the next moment, or the next day, or the rest of their days.
“So,” Pidge finally whispered, hands fussing with the hem of her shirt. “That happened.”
“Yup. I’m a total heartthrob, I know.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Sure, Casanova. Anyway, I think it’s time I hit the hay. Training bright and early tomorrow, and all that.”
Lance gave a curt nod, moving out of the doorway and into the hall. He cleared his throat.
“Glad we… sorted that out. I guess.”
“Yeah,” Pidge was hesitant. “Me too.”
“Goodnight. Uh, see you in the morning.”
“You too, Lance.”
She turned to shut the door, but a shadow moved in her direction. She only had time to look up, briefly, into bright blue eyes before a hand caught her face and another was in her hair and lips brushed hers. Pidge let out a gasp, and Lance pulled back, still inches from her face.
“Oh. Awkward. Sorry.” Lance managed to choke out, and she shook her head quickly, color draining from her cheeks.
“N-no. It’s-- It’s okay. This is okay.” She blurted. Lance paused, scrutinizing her face again, waiting for her to continue. “C-can you? Kiss me, I mean.”
He responded by doing just that, pressing his lips harder against hers, and she stood on her toes and clutched at his shirt as he did so. It only lasted a second, maybe two, three. They parted. Kissed again. Parted for real, this time. And took step backs.
A cough and low whistle from the taller, who glanced in the direction of his room. “It’s late. Why’re you still up, man?”
A covering of cheeks and raspberry blown from the shorter. “Unfortunately, I’ve been kept up by some sappy loser.”
They shared a quiet grin. A ruffle of light brown locks. If Lance didn’t know any better, he’d say Pidge was totally falling for him.
“Okay. Hittin’ the hay. We have training in the morning,” Lance finally said, and he took backwards steps towards his room. “Goodnight, Pidge.”
She rolled her eyes, then thought a moment, then called out to him again.
“Hey, Lance?”
He turned to look at her over his shoulder. She straightened her back, and a smile formed on her lips.
“How do you see me?”
He let out a snort, turning away to avoid her gaze before his final declaration, proud now of the inside joke they began to share.
“You’re Pidge.”