#plancesecretsanta2019

Two years ago, Shiro had qualified as an astronaut candidate and had left to train for space travel. While she heard from him regularly, and while she also got updates on his training from Matt, who’d become an astronaut before Shiro, she still looked forward to seeing how he’d been.

Meanwhile, Hunk had returned to his hometown last year to apply everything he’d learned about green engineering. Same for Keith and Allura. Only Lance had stayed from their batch, and only Pidge, a year younger than them, was left to graduate a year later.

The video started with everyone—from friends to family—in their video squares, congratulating her for graduating. She beamed instantly. All the people she loved, close at hand despite being far away.

Keith’s square zoomed in to its full size.

He frowned at the camera. Or the one behind it, most likely. “I go first?"

Pidge heard Lance’s hushed “Yeah. Just go say something.”

Keith huffed, crossed his arms, then began: “Pidge and Lance aren’t the typical couple. They don’t hold hands. They don’t go on dates. They’re literally best friends who label themselves as a couple. Their announcement was so sudden it didn’t even sink in for five minutes.” He glared. “Who announces something like that as if they’re just going out to get food, anyway?”

“Did it seem like that?” Lance asked from behind the camera. She had the same question in mind, so she tried to remember that moment.

* * *

Even though she was focused on editing a code due in fifteen minutes, Pidge could feel Lance’s nervousness rolling off of him from the couch across from her. She couldn’t understand why he was so tense; she was pretty sure they’d been obvious with their feelings these past few months that the others wouldn’t really be surprised. Still, she shot him a reassuring look, knowing that that would calm him down. It did, as always. It practically worked like a charm.

He called everyone’s attention with a “Hey, guys?” She felt him falter. She glanced at him and met his questioning eyes. “Let’s tell them, Pidge?”

“Sure.” Another reassuring look his way, and she was lost in her code again, typing at full speed to meet her deadline.

“Tell us what?” Hunk asked absently between chewing noises.

“We’re in a relationship now. Well, have been for two months.”

Pidge didn’t notice the complete silence until she’d pressed the enter key to send in her work. She looked up then, finding astonished, dumbfounded expressions on everyone’s faces and utter confusion on Lance’s—an expression that no doubt matched hers.

“What?” she asked, her question reverberating in the still silent living room of Shiro and Keith’s shared apartment.

“What?” Allura asked back.

“What ‘what’?” Lance asked back, too.

And they all stared at each other in more confusion.

* * *

“And yet,” Keith continued, recalling Pidge from her recollection, “somehow, they made sense.” He smiled, and the video switched to Hunk.

“I introduced them,” Hunk said smugly, making her chuckle. His grin was as bright and warm as the summer view behind him, if not more. “Pidge and I were classmates in this course that required a thesis-level project—I mean, who does that?! Our university, apparently, but I digress.”

He shifted in his seat, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “So. Eve of our deadline and we’re stressed out of our minds. Local pizza shack about to close. What did I do? I snuck her into our dorm. My best mate and roommate Lance—bless you—”

“Thank you,” came Lance’s distant voice.

“—opened the doors from inside after curfew, quick introduction, then Pidge and I were back at work. Aaand…” he drawled. “I don’t know if she’d ever realized, but the nickname ‘Pidge’ wasn’t actually ‘Pidge’.”

“Oh no. No no no no. Hunk, don’t say another word,” Lance’s disembodied voice had taken on a warning tone that Hunk, as his best friend, easily disregarded.

“Pidge, you hearing this? That night you met each other and you had your full snark on? He called you a bi—” A hand, obviously Lance’s, clamped over Hunk’s mouth before he could finish.

The video switched again, showing a slightly disheveled, post-laughter, but more formal Hunk. “I’ve been informed that some very important people might be viewing this. I apologize for the rowdiness you witnessed a few seconds prior.”

Pidge paused the video to smirk at the not-camera Lance by her side. “You dared call me something remotely derogatory, Lance?”

His face paled a bit before darkening with a blush. “W-We didn’t have the best first impressions of each other, Pidge.”

When he avoided all her efforts to establish eye contact, she burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, I knew from the start.”

“Wh-Really?”

“Anyone with clean ears will pick up on your noisy grumbling, you know?”

“Oh. Sorry for calling you that, Pidge.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine. The nickname that came from it stuck, anyway.”

He grinned at her, then motioned for her to continue watching.

“For people as dramatic as Lance and as explosive as Pidge, they sure are quiet as a couple. They’re honestly the most boring couple out there.”

“Hey!”

Hunk’s hands went up in a placating gesture. “Hey, don’t get me wrong, man. You guys are two of the coolest people I know. But nothing ever happens with you two! Remember that time Pidge got her appendix removed and she was coming out of her anesthesia-induced coma?”

Pidge tried to recall it. There wasn’t much that happened; the surgery was a success, and Hunk was the first person she found upon waking up, watching over her from a bedside chair.

“Pidge asked where you were, and I thought she was still loopy from the anesthesia so I said, ‘Who do you think gave you your heart?’ And she just stared at me blankly in her trademark way that told you she can’t comprehend what you’re saying, so if you can please say something with a minimum IQ level of one hundred. Then she said with perfect articulation, ‘I had an appendectomy, Hunk, not a heart surgery.’” Hunk looked at the camera, at her. “You could be in the middle of a brain surgery and still hack into the national security systems.”

Laughter bubbled right from her belly. She missed Hunk and his humor so much.

“Anyway, so I told Pidge the truth that Lance was out getting food for her visitors, and then she fell asleep on me. Hence my point stands: boring couple.” He sighed and shook his head in mock disappointment.

What he didn’t know was that his joke had a delayed effect on Pidge, because she could remember bawling when she saw Lance for the first time after her surgery.

“But if boring means no drama means stable, then it’s a blessing that my best buds have the most boring relationship ever.”

With one last salute from Hunk, the video showed Shiro next. Pidge’s chest swelled with pride upon seeing him in a NASA shirt. Like her father and brother, he wore the brand well.

“Lance and Pidge argue often, but rarely do they fight. When they do, strange things happen. Trees in the College of Engineering would seem less vibrant, and the fountain near the College of Letters and Science would stop spouting water. Thanks to Hunk’s talent for goss—” Shiro caught himself, smiled sheepishly, and corrected, “—storytelling, it has since become an urban legend that when the fountain suddenly dries up and the trees along the path to Engineering look like they’re wilting, a student from either college got into a fight with someone they really love from the other college.

“The simple and logical explanations for these rare phenomena are that tired students have altered perceptions of their surroundings, and that the malfunction in the fountain’s pipes just happens to coincide with the equally rare times that Pidge and Lance fight.” He leaned in towards the camera with a conspiratorial smirk. “Here’s my secret though…” He paused, and Pidge held her breath in anticipation. “I don’t think the real explanation is as simple or logical as that.”

The next person to appear caught her off-guard. He wasn’t in the opening greeting, so she figured he was a last-minute addition. It didn’t keep the smile from tugging at the corners of her lips, though.

It was Dr. Smythe, her thesis adviser.

“Pidge—no, Katie Holt, or as I prefer to call her, Number Five, as my fifth consecutive award-winning undergraduate thesis advisee,” he said as a long preamble, stroking his mustache in his own way of preening, “elevates everything she does to unprecedented levels: her classes, her thesis, her contributions to our academic research, her overthinking, and her neglect of herself when in pursuit of something that piques her interest—unintentional, I’m sure, but neglect nonetheless.” Even though she’d just shaken her adviser’s hand as his friend instead of his student not three hours ago, Pidge felt scolded like a kid.

“Worried as I was for her well-being her whole thesis process, I did something unforgivable for an adviser to do!” Dr. Smythe took a dramatic breath that had Pidge’s heart stopping in shock. “I withheld information from my protégée!”

He did what?! Would it affect her thesis, her graduation, her future prospects?!

“I told her there was no way to cut the runtime for one of our computers, when in fact she could have cut it down by a third, or even half! Ah, forgive me, Number Five!” He grabbed the camera by the sides and cried into it in all his genius eccentricity. “I did it for your sake! You never take breaks outside of that waiting time; it was the only time your lover could help calm your nerves!”

Pidge felt her face heat up.

“‘L-Lover’?!” Lance sputtered. The camera’s angle straightened; Dr. Smythe must’ve let go of it now.

Her adviser leveled an odd look where Lance was off-cam. “Yes! Aren’t you her lover? You’ve been lurking outside the labs the whole year.”

“Ye—I mean—To call me that so directly…”

Dr. Smythe pulled on his mustache once. “Get used to it, young man.” And then the video switched again.

It was an abrupt ending for her thesis adviser’s part, but Pidge all but forgot about him when she saw Allura beaming at her.

“Hi, Pidge,” Pidge’s best friend and only childhood friend greeted with a wave. “Congratulations again on graduating. Oh, I miss you so much!” Pidge’s fingers traced Allura’s face ever so lightly on the tablet. She missed her friends—her family outside of her family—so much it almost hurt. “I’ve been asked to say something about you and Lance as a couple.”

“Something good, preferably,” video-Lance quipped, earning a laugh from Allura. She glanced somewhere off-center, probably at where Lance had been filming.

“Alright. Something good, then. Some thoughts I’ve kept in my heart for as long as I’ve known you both.

“You couldn’t be more opposite to each other—gods know how you damage our ears with your bickering. And yet you work perfectly together when it mattered most. You balance each other out. Lance, you lift Pidge up whenever her realism bordered on pessimism. Pidge, you tether Lance whenever his head starts floating to the clouds with his easygoing optimism. Lance is the people-person—I’m sure we all agree on that?” Allura confirmed, teasing eyes looking straight at the camera. Pidge giggled and nodded. “While Pidge understands the world, and perhaps even the universe, at its core.

“Pidge learned from a young age how to build walls to defend herself from envious people who want to drag her down. But Lance, with your big family, you’ve learned how to deconstruct them in order to connect with others.” Allura’s eyes welled with tears, and Pidge’s mirrored them. “You’ve met and challenged Pidge on all levels, Lance. I’m so happy she’s finally found her match in you.”

The camera caught a sniffling sound. “Thanks, Allura.”

Allura’s video cut off with her smiling and dabbing her cheeks with tissue.

Lance’s parents came next, congratulating Pidge enthusiastically and inviting her to their home for a graduation feast.

“Our son brags about his many former girlfriends, but… you are the only one he has ever taken home,” his mother said, the gleam of mischief in her eyes.

“Mom!” Lance whispered harshly. “You gotta give a better message!”

“Let me try.” The camera shifted a bit to focus on Lance’s father. “Our son has had trouble finding his place, being the youngest among his siblings. He told us that you put him in his place, when you met. He said because of that, he found his place and could finally move forward.” The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened as he smiled. “Thank you, Katie.

“Is that good, son?”

“Yeah… Yeah. Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad.”

Pidge could see where this was going—or at least, where it could possibly go. The montage of everyone congratulating her at the start may just be a façade. But since Lance was still in his seat, not fumbling for a tiny box or kneeling on the ground, she couldn’t be sure.

That was until Matt’s face appeared. Then her tears started falling. Because this was her family next. Whatever they had to say about her and Lance would greatly affect their relationship. This was their time to frankly voice out their issues with either of them, and yet Matt was grinning.

“You got me at a good time,” he told the off-cam Lance, who chuckled.

“Three days before launch. I’d say I’m still great at crunch time one year after graduating.”

Matt laughed before turning to the camera. “Hey, Pidge! Congrats on graduating!” His smile turned apologetic. “Sorry I can’t be there to watch you walk on stage and shake hands with people you’ve probably never met your entire college life.” He stopped and waggled his eyebrows expectantly; he knew she’d laugh at his joke. The apologetic smile returned. “And sorry for taking Dad here with me. We need his supervision for the new docking procedure we’ll be trying out. Give Mom some space hugs for me, will you? And if you ever need advice… you can consult Dad’s favorite book any time.” He winked, and she received his secret message successfully.

“Okay. On to matters I’d rather not talk about.”

“Matt!”

Matt’s carefree guffaw made Pidge’s heart ache for her brother’s presence. She mentally calculated the time elapsed since his crew’s launch. Their rocket should be orbiting Earth right about now, preparing to align with the International Space Station.

“I would never forget your first dinner with us. I can tell you really wanted to impress us with your research in the fields we specialize in. But that wasn’t what ended up impressing us. It was how you managed to hit on Mom after you ran out of things to talk about regarding our specialties.”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Lance protested, and though Pidge couldn’t see him, she knew that the Lance behind the camera was blushing hard. She glanced at the Lance sitting next to her, sending him an amused—albeit tearful—smirk. He returned a sheepish grin.

* * *

“You’ve gone silent, Lance,” Mom said as she sliced her steak.

Lance stiffened. Pidge knew how much he wanted to leave a good impression on her family. So far, so good. Everything they’d rehearsed, as well as the crash course she’d given him, was paying off. But for some reason, he didn’t seem to think so and had stopped participating in conversations.

“Oh, um…” He swallowed, drank water, then swallowed again. “M-Must be in my genes to be speechless in the face of beauty,” he blurted out in one breath.

The whole table went silent. Awkwardly silent for a full ten seconds. Lance’s face was dark with mortification, Pidge’s family was sitting thunderstruck by his response, and Pidge was starting to wonder if organizing this dinner had been a mistake.

But then Mom and Matt burst into laughter, Dad following suit.

“Sorry, son,” Dad said, regarding Lance a little more warmly than a few seconds ago. “Colleen is spoken for. May I introduce you to my daughter Katie instead?”

The wide smile that spread across Lance’s lips seemed to chase away his embarrassment. He looked at Pidge with bright eyes, and her heart temporarily forgot its rhythm. “I’d love that, Sir.”

* * *

“I know,” Matt assured with a chuckle. “But that accidental thing showed us that you specialized in your own field, too. In building connections with people.

“Pidge—Katie has never been good at making friends. I think only Allura was stubborn enough to get through to her, and it took years. You changed that. You helped my sister expand her world. Now, you mean the world to her.” He directed a kind smile slightly to the left. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you are her world.”

His eyes softened, then he stood from his seat, opening his arms. After a few moments, Lance appeared on-screen to return the hug. The sight brought fresh tears to Pidge’s eyes.

“I leave her in your care, brother,” Matt said. “She’ll probably argue that she can take care of herself. She’s right about that, but it’s still reassuring to know she’s in good hands either way.”

Lance sniffled twice before replying, “Thank you, brother.”

Matt clapped Lance’s back. “No problem. Now let’s look for tissues before the staff suspect you’re infecting me with colds.”

They both snickered.

When the video switched to her parents’ smiling faces, Pidge’s hands became damp with sweat and her heart began to pound. She knew they’d already given Lance their blessing, seeing as this video existed, but this would be the first time she’d be hearing what they thought about her relationship with Lance.

The first thing she noticed was their clothes. They were wearing the unexpectedly awesome sweaters Lance’s grandmother had knitted for them last Christmas. A lump formed in her throat at the realization; she had to lower her voice so she could still speak with words instead of inarticulate sobs.

“How long have you been planning this?” she asked, eyes not straying from the screen.

“A while,” Lance answered just as quietly.

“Congratulations on your graduation, Katie,” Mom greeted.

“We’re so proud of you, Katie. So proud,” Dad added.

“You must have figured out what this video is really for by now,” Mom continued, to which Dad nodded.

“You must have deduced that we’ve given our blessing as well.”

“All that’s left for us to do is endorse this young man…” At Mom’s cue, Lance peeked from the corner of the screen and waved. “…to you.” Pidge glimpsed the obvious signs of nervousness on his face. It carried over to her as she waited for her parents’ “endorsement” of Lance.

“Lance came from a completely different background from us. He didn’t know anything about astrophysics, molecular biology, or computer engineering more than any other layperson did.” Pidge winced at Mom’s knowing smirk. “Don’t try to deny it, young lady; we know you two planned out what he would be talking about with us the first time he came over.”

Dad chuckled. “Lance hadn’t always been able to keep up with our discussions, but he was always willing to learn. He strived to see things from your perspective and understand you better. I’ve never seen you more patient than when you would explain a concept to him, Katie.” He glanced at Lance. “I’ve never seen a more receptive student, either.”

He redirected his gaze to the camera, smiling gently at Pidge. “You told him about the universe, showed how galaxies worked, demonstrated gravitational forces, and explained why the sun, moon, and stars existed. I hope you wouldn’t wonder too much how he realized he has fallen into orbit around you.”

Lance’s hand slipped into hers as the video faded out. Pidge felt something press onto her palm. She felt a ring press onto her palm, and she almost started crying again. Instead, she took a deep, shaky breath to calm the tumult of emotions within her. Lance remained patiently quiet by her side. They watched the flock of graduates and guests in front of them in the meantime, the cacophony of congratulations and goodbyes and promises to keep in touch filling the silence between them.

“You’re not getting down on one knee?” she teased eventually, once she was confident enough to speak.

“I could,” he replied, “but do you want me to?”

“No, actually.”

“Thought so.” She could hear the mirth in his voice. The sound calmed her down further.

“Everybody won’t be satisfied with anything less than showy, though.”

He hummed in thought. “I’ll consider it.”

“Maybe they’ll even make you do something Matt and Shiro will see from space.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It all depends on your answer.”

She turned towards him, willing him to meet her eyes. “You already know my answer.”

When he did, she was struck anew by how his eyes shone with everything he didn’t need to tell her out loud, and how they regarded her with understanding, and how absolutely, breathlessly beautiful they were. “I want to hear it anyway.” Like the hue of a clear day. Like the shade of a calm sea. Like the color of love. “Will you marry me, Pidge?”

“You found it!” she exclaims, jogging over to him. Pidge wastes no time in rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, examining the generator for functionality as she grips it possessively. Her face contorts, nose wrinkling as she begins to sort out whatever problem she’s found. Lance’s heart does a little leap, finding the action so quintessentially Pidge and therefore endearing and adorable.

He coughs, the dust still scratchy against his throat. “Does it have enough juice?” he wheezes.

Pidge frowns, eyes still on the machine. “It’s been over a decade since I was last here with Mom, Dad, and Matt,” she admits. “Only one way to find out how deteriorated it is.”

Lance whines at the thought of cold showers and canned food for a week (or longer, who knew how long this snowstorm would last). To distract himself from the possibility of such a dismal future, he watches her delicate fingers dig into a mess of cables. They’re so tiny, fitting into small spaces and rearranging components with calming ease. Speckles of dust and grime fall onto them, though Pidge pays it no mind, focused as she is on her task. Dirty or not, he has the sudden, inexplicable need to hold them - but he does not reach. Pidge’s work is far too important to interrupt right now, just as imperative as any mission they went on as Paladins.

Licking his lips, Lance frets. Had he sized the ring too large?

With a grunt, Pidge flips the switch and to Lance's extreme relief, it hums to life.

“Oh thank goodness,” Lance sighs, slumping to a squat, arms hanging onto the table. “I don’t think I could have lived with a cold shower.”

The window pane above the kitchen sink rattles, strong winds swirling both the falling and newfallen snow. Though the snow shines brightly in the dark of the evening, he still can’t see Pidge’s car, parked on the gravel road only feet from the cabin.

Pidge switches the generator off. “Dad must have modified this one if it’s lasted this long.” Gently, she brushes off some lingering dust around the manufacturer label. “We’d better save power regardless, I’m still not sure how much is left in this one.” She lifts her eyes to the window, mouth a thin, concerned line. “I don’t think the others are going to be able to make it in time for Christmas.”

Disappointment laces her tone, and Lance is upset too. They all needed this break from their various duties across the universe. Lance had genuinely been looking forward to it being just the seven of them again, recounting the insanity of the beginning of their tenure as team Voltron. It was Matt who’d reminded them of the Holt family cabin in the mountains, and at the time it seemed like an idyllic getaway from media and duty alike.

Except now it would just be him and Pidge in a near powerless cabin in the middle of nowhere until the blizzard subsided, both simmering with frustration at the weather and all traces of joyous holiday spirit gone.

Lance drops a hand into his jacket pocket, fingering the small black box. He’d missed his chance on the car ride here. He’d missed his chance after the Galaxy Garrison holiday party and during numerous lunchtime walks on the Galaxy Garrison grounds. No opportunity had seemed right. Maybe the universe was telling him now to just suck it up and do it - gifting him this unplanned time alone with her. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t discussed getting married so many times before - he and Pidge were ready (or at least as ready as they thought they could be).

But it seems wrong to do so here, during a winter storm, when he could take her to see the sun set on the waters of Varadero Beach, dining with spaghetti, garlic knots, and peanut butter cookies for dessert.

If he could just be patient a little longer and create the perfect moment for her. It’s the very least Pidge deserves.

He looks up at her, flashing his most flirtatious and cheesy of grins. One thing he can do at the moment, is lift their spirits and make the most of this and make up for the fact he won’t have the others to help keep things festive. “Well, just you and me isn't so bad, Pidge. Alone in a cabin, cut off from the rest of the universe.” He waggles his eyebrows to sell it further. “I can think of a few things to keep us entertained.”

Pidge’s face alone looks as if it could heat the entire cabin for the whole two weeks they'd be here. It entertains him for all of three seconds before she grins wickedly right back at him, his face falling in slight fear that she might actually be willing to indulge in the innuendo.

“You’re right, Lance,” she says with a sly smirk. “Alone in the middle of the mountains and a snowstorm that won’t let us see what kind of spooky creatures are out there.” She shrugs smugly. “We'll do what the old song says and tell a bunch of scary ghost stories. A brilliant idea to keep us entertained,” she continues, with a smile that tells Lance she knew exactly what he meant and pulled the rug from under him on purpose. “I’ll grab the blankets and we can camp out in the living room.”

She splits off and Lance falls to his back on the kitchen floor, just now finding the breath he’d been holding. He’d nearly ruined something else that he wanted to be absolutely perfect and romantic on their wedding night over a joke to keep her mind off the lack of the rest of the team.

She’d quiznaking had him in the first half.

He loves her so much.

Telling stories was a great idea, though, he decides as he arranges the throw pillows on the floor of the living room in front of the crackling stone fireplace and Pidge drops the blankets and pillows gathered from the bedrooms on top of them. Telling the absolute scariest story will surely have Pidge clinging and cuddling against him! The perfect opportunity to use his arm-over-the-shoulder technique - tested and perfected years before he arrived at the Galaxy Garrison for his first class. Just the thought of cuddling with Pidge makes his toes tingle despite his fuzzy wool socks, eager to bask in the known warmth of her arms wrapped around him.

The promise of cuddling perks him up and clears his senses like a brisk December morning. It feels festive now, and Pidge's sweater looks right at home with shiny bobbles on the Christmas tree - illuminated by the fire on the wood - the silver tinsel strewn about the shelf lining the room, and the folding table ready to hold his mother's famous punch recipe that he can't wait for Pidge to try and pair with whatever delectable snacks Hunk brings. Just being among the trappings of the holiday, doing something fun with Pidge, makes his heart feel much lighter.

Like a well-oiled machine, honed from years of sharing the Voltron bond and heightened in the years of courtship, the two of them layer the pillows together between the two pronged corner couch and loveseat and drape bed sheets on top of them for a roof. They squish as many comforters and blankets and pillows inside the three-sided fort as they possibly can, making a cozy tent for two. It could be a scene from the outside, with this tent a recreation of a cabin and the evergreen by the large window filled with ornaments and topped with a star just a normal part of the forest. The only thing needed was the seven of them participating in the most epic snowball fight known to the universe - where he’d finally enact his sweet revenge on Keith for the hit in the Squishy Asteroid Fight. 

But, he realizes as he eyes Pidge making sure their bedsheet roof was secure, he could practice. 

With a childhood full of playing baseball in the schoolyard behind him, Lance launches the circle shaped throw pillow at Pidge. It hits her square in the back of the head and falls limply to the ground. Pidge straightens from being bent over to her full height. Then, just as fast as if it were her bayard, Pidge lunges at him with a body pillow - the spark of competition the last thing he sees before nothing but white fluff. 

“I had an older brother too, Lance,” Pidge says devilishly. “I know how to pillow fight.”

All nervousness surrounding the ring in his pocket forgotten, Lance picks a pillow up off the floor. “You had one sibling, I had four,” he retorts. “I have the stamina and the awareness to win this one. And,” he adds, pointing smugly to her sweater, “mine doesn’t light up like a target.”

Still, fighting a group wasn’t the same as fighting one-on-one, as Lance found out. Pidge was just as fierce (and far more used to hand-to-hand combat than he) as he remembered during training sessions on the Castle. Not that he minded in the least, the distraction was welcome. 

Lance lands on his side first, head resting on the pillow he’s designated as his own near the back of the fort, breath heavy, but laugher from the utter silliness they’d partaken in not far from his lips. His heart beats with a delighted trill as Pidge falls to her side next to him, nearly bouncing on top of the layers of pillows and blankets, mouth formed into a wide, contented smile

She opens her eyes, their faces so close together it would be so easy to kiss her.

So he does, a simple peck right on her nose.

“I love you,” he tells her.

Pidge snorts at his action, her mouth curling up adorably in amusement. “What brought this on? The brilliance to conserve energy by making a pillow fort?”

“That too,” Lance admits with a laugh. “Can’t I just say it for no particular reason?”

Thick brown eyebrows raise in curiosity. “What are you buttering me up for, Lance?”

“Nothing!” he squeaks. His hands freeze in a heart-stopping moment; quiznak, what if she’s expecting a proposal on this trip? Will he let her down by not offering her the ring in his pocket? The howling wind outside is hardly the perfect atmosphere compared to the sun-kissed ocean waves. “I’m just… glad if I had to be stuck anywhere during the holidays, it’s with you. You make me feel like I can do anything.”

Rather than a sickeningly sweet and teasing ‘aww’, Pidge’s gaze falls to the pillow laden floor, her grip tightening on the edge of a quilt. “That means more than you know,” she says somberly. “You’re my best friend, Lance. I gave you the cold shoulder so many times back when we were a simulator crew and you never gave up trying to hang out.” A small, gentle smile forms on her face as she looks back up at him. “You - You’re all family to me. Shiro and Keith, Coran and Allura, Hunk and..” she meets his gaze and he can’t breathe or look away. “And you.”

Warmth overwhelms his heart. He’d known, of course, his persistence had paid off to gain Pidge’s friendship, but to hear it from her makes him happy beyond belief.

He never can - or wants to - replace that familial feeling between the Paladins but… he also wants to be a family with her - just the two of them.

“You definitely had us all fooled for a while,” he admits. Slowly, he curls his fingers and fully encases her hand in his free one. “But I’m forever grateful I got the chance to know the real Pidge.”

And he means it. The more he sinks into the soft blankets in comfort, the more he just wants to stay like this forever. To take Pidge into his arms and hold her through the entire storm.

Pidge squeezes the hand that holds hers. “Me too - about the real Lance,” she says laying relaxed among the blankets with eyes that are full of purpose. “Marry me.”

Lance's face is stretched so wide and like an idiot it takes him several seconds to realize what had just happened.

He shoots up, head making a dent in the bedsheet ceiling. “What?” he squeaks. “Wait. Hold on. I was going to propose to you!”

As he witnesses the myriad of emotions that pass across Pidge’s face, from fear to relief to the audacity to outright laugh at him, Lance resigns that he won’t be able to give Pidge the perfect proposal on the beach.

But he loves Pidge and as long as she says yes that is all that matters in the end. He can make up for a low-key proposal with a grand wedding.

“I figured, after our tenth talk about what to name our kids and all,” Pidge says, then rolls onto her back and chuckles a few more times at his expense.

Lance huffs. “It’s not funny, Pidge. I had it all planned. We’d go to the beach, watch the sunset and have the most perfect romantic candlelit dinner! My mom was even going to cook! You know how delicious her cooking is!” He digs into his pocket and pulls out the black box. “I even had this ready!”

Pidge stops laughing the instant she lays eyes on the box, her mouth agape in pure surprise as she slowly sits up. “You… already have the ring. You actually have it. Here. Right now.”

At Pidge’s disbelief, Lance’s own jaw drops. Planned or not, this was happening right here, right now. He clears his throat and shifts to his knees, opening the box and offering it out to Pidge. The band is green and silver with seven tiny diamonds set as low as possible - as much of a sacrifice between Pidge’s desire for nothing too flashy, easy to work with in the lab, and Lance’s desire to give her everything.

Now that the ring is out, Pidge viewing it… there is no doubt in Lance’s mind that this is the right moment.

“I’ve had it for a while,” he admits. “I’ve always wanted to give the girl I marry the most perfect and romantic proposal and… this isn’t it, but, I love you, Pidge,” he says with a fluttering heart that he hopes reflects in his smile. “I’d be more than happy to share my life with you.”

In awe, Pidge takes the ring out of the box with shaking hands, inspecting it thoroughly, still in a wave of disbelief. “I - I…”

Now it’s his turn to worry about rejection. A thousand terrible scenarios run through his mind - that Pidge hates the ring or worse, that she has second thoughts about this level of commitment. Lance knows he has none, and if he has to wait for years for her to be ready he will.

Even if - his heart thumps painfully - if she never does.

He frowns. “Are you okay, Pidge?”

She nods. She nods furiously, tears pricking at her eyes. “My heart was yours first.” With the skills of a ninja she swiftly drapes her arms around his neck, head resting on his shoulder. “Absolutely, yes.”

Lance knows she answers both of his questions. Joy in his heart and butterflies dissipating from his stomach, he takes her into the closest of hugs and enjoys the comfort of being able to hold his fiancee. 

It may not have been the perfect proposal he’d envisioned, but all the same he’s overcome with all the happiness in the universe and an urge to do something. He flops back down onto their pillow-bed and laughs as Pidge both shrieks and giggles in delight when he takes her with him, kicking at him playfully and futility.

Her breath surrounds his senses and he doesn’t even mind taking a whiff of the salami she’d had for lunch. Just as their arms and legs are tangled together, their noses bump roughly. Lance snorts and chuckles as Pidge curls into his chest, still giggling softly. His lips are already on her forehead, so he takes the opportunity to kiss her. Once for their engagement, twice for how thankful he is for her company snowed-in, and three times for how much he loves her.

A flash of light and a crack of thunder tells him that the intensity of the storm won’t be diminishing anytime soon. And that’s okay by him, so long as he can stay like this.

Pidge’s humorous noises still to a sigh and she makes no move to leave his arms, instead taking a fistful of his sweater in her hands and snuggling closer. “You know, I’m kind of glad the storm interrupted our plans,” she hums. “Otherwise you might still be planning for that perfect moment.”

“You’re right, as usual,” Lance concedes. He doesn’t much care to be shown up, not when this outcome is a win for him too. What he’s not going to tell her, is that what was once a grand proposal, is now going to be the best and most romantic first anniversary date.

He grins into her hair, content as he equates the warmth of the beach to the warmth of her arms and the blankets. 

“So how about those ghost stories?” he reminds her as mischievousness builds in his heart. Now that they’re engaged, he has even more reason to perfect his protective cuddling of Pidge. Because they have their whole lives together to look forward to now, and he’s certain there will be moments where Pidge will want the weight of his arms around her to both comfort her when she’s sad and protect her when she’s scared.

Pidge shifts to her back, head resting easy on her pillow as she gives him a smug smile. “You’re on,” she tells him as he leans back into his own pillow, staying on his side so he can keep his arms wrapped around the one of her closest to him. “Ever hear about Yeti around this area?” The confident glint in her eyes sends his heart pounding, knowing this was going to be a good one. Pidge never did things halfway.

“A local legend, huh?” Lance grins, completely sure he’ll weather this one. It’s not like any of these things were real. “I’m all ears, Pidge. Try me.” After knowing her story, he’ll be able to one-up her with one of his own and they’ll cuddle under the covers in their little tent with the warmth of each other. They’ll be able to save the generator for a nice hot shower in the morning - or whenever they thought it was morning. The blizzard will make it difficult to tell.

It hurts. The shivers down his spine, radiating through his body, shake through his broken leg and bruises scattered across his torso, and pull at the edges of the gash down one of his shoulders. He can’t stop the involuntary movement when the cold has seeped to his core.

***

They never should have split up with the other rebels — Alliance members? There was no one to rebel against anymore, but it was hard to break old habits of thinking of them that way.

They should have stayed together. The old Blade outpost was supposed to be empty, but Lance knew something felt...off. They shouldn’t have gone into the dark jungle around the outpost alone. He should have known. Was he getting rusty?

“This is the last time I do a favor for Keith,” he mumbled under his breath.

An elbow in his side told him in no uncertain terms to hush, Pidge glaring daggers at him from beside him. Not that it mattered. With their helmets on no one could hear them; the rustling of the vines that covered the outcropping of rock they were hidden behind was more of a danger.

“You could have stayed home,” she teased quietly.

“And let you come out here by yourself a month before our wedding?”

“I wouldn’t have been by myself.”

Lance let out a breath as he huddled closer, wincing at the lights seeping around the edge of their rock — thin greenish beams that didn’t belong to their colleagues.

“Not the point…”

His hands stayed on his rifle, ready, a finger near the trigger, but they itched to hold onto Pidge, to keep her close. Her shoulder pressed into his back as he kept watch, the warmth reassuring.

“I know,” Pidge said. The fondness in her voice made him smile.

He just wanted to be with her. Why not go on a mission for the first time in a while if he could avoid missing her for a couple of weeks?

People had been disappearing here. There were fruits in that jungle used by a nearby population on this planet, but in recent months it had turned into a strange black hole. The Blades, still stretched thin as they rebuilt their ranks, hadn’t had a chance to respond to the reports. When the natives finally begged for help, well…

What better job to give a couple of former paladins and a handful of bored rebels with no one to fight? Captain Olia and her crew were more than happy to lend their ship and their help to check out the area, what with the Atlas so busy with diplomacy.

They were expecting some trouble, maybe, but not this. Not the sudden blow out of nowhere and the flash that cuts off Pidge’s smile in his memory and then—

***

It’s the last clear memory he has. There’s more, jumbled and rushed, but he’s always been alone in this cell, in this lab, wherever he is and he can’t remember…

Where is Pidge? Is she safe? Is she here somewhere? Is she…?

Lance coughs, swiping shakily at his eyes as he pushes the thoughts away. A fresh jolt of pain down his leg squeezes tears free, as he tries to shift to relieve the pressure on his hip from the hard floor.

Is he even on the same planet anymore? Surely if they were just keeping people somewhere in that outpost he would have been found by now? Everyone at the Garrison on Earth knew where they were going.

It doesn’t help anything when the lights through the lab snap on, startling Lance into another sudden movement. He tries not to moan aloud, but he can’t help it. At the far end of the lab, the aliens that have been holding him here shuffle in, all rumpled lab coats and bleary morning glares, as if this is all normal. They’re a motley crew — a female Olkari and a yellow-gold male of what he’s pretty sure is Nyma’s species. A couple of other species he doesn’t recognize.

He shoves the small picture of Pidge back into the torn folds of the flight suit under his head before anyone notices it.

“Think we’ve left those wounds long enough?” Gold Guy asks, glancing briefly over at Lance.

The ring leader - a tall blue female - shrugs. “Yeah, probably. Let’s see how they do.”

The Olkari pipes up, hesitant. “Uhm...don’t forget to set the leg before you try healing it.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

The blue one is the only one with any real scientific acumen, Lance has been able to gather. Except for the Olkari, who has some but seems reluctant. The others are just goonies, he thinks, and there must be more elsewhere outside the lab - whoever attacked them.

They don’t come for him right away, turning on computers and equipment first and brewing something that smells a little like coffee. Not that they’ve ever given him any. The same routine they go through every morning for...how long?

Except for the first day, it all blurs together.

***

“Where is Pidge! What did you do with her!”

He woke up here, in this cell, his wrists cuffed behind him around one of the bars, and she was nowhere to be seen. Just a sterile white and gray lab and no answers. The blue alien and the Olkari leaning over him and a ringing in his head that was slowly fading.

“...device seems to have taken care of the concussion and lacerations easily enough in this species,” one of them was saying. “We can move forward with other tests.”

“Where is the other person I was with? Where is she!”

They ignored him, talking among themselves about something he didn’t care to make out just then, but that was when Lance saw the tears in his suit...and that there were no wounds under them. There was blood on the fabric and on his skin, but nothing else. Like waking up in a healing pod, except a healing pod usually cleaned away the blood, too.

And if they’d been hit with some kind of charge, shouldn’t he feel a lot worse than he did? Parts of him felt sore, but—

That was when the blue one grabbed his face. “You. How does your head feel?”

Lance jerked his chin away. “Like I’m going to answer that? Who are you!”

Gold Guy leaned in, brandishing a short knife. “Look, we can make this easier on you, or we can NOT. Answer the question.”

Lance just glared, already short of air. He was all but expecting what came next, but with his mind still clearing he almost didn’t register the sudden movement until knife was buried in his thigh.

He shouted, yanking on the restraints, waiting for the agony to fade, but the knife stayed where it was. Gold Guy was tugging down on the edge of the wound and twisting.

It made it hard to hear them, even though they were so close.

“I’d listen to him if I were you,” the blue alien was saying. “He’s not as nice as me.”

Gold Guy smirked. “You’re nice?”

The Olkari was protesting. “What are you doing! We don’t even have monitoring devices on him yet!” She almost seemed to care.

Blue Lady shrugged. “We’ll put some on before we heal anything else. We’ve got plenty of time to run tests.” She leaned into Lance’s face, pushing down on Gold Guy’s hand and the handle of the knife. “He needs to know how this is going to work. When we ask questions, you answer them? Got it?”

Lance could barely get a breath, much less answer, but he gasped out what he could. “Get...quiznaked.”

They didn’t seem to like that.

***

When they swarm his cell Lance still tries to match them glare for glare, like he does every morning. Every time.

They crowd into the cell to surround him, but they don’t bother cuffing him. They haven’t for a while. He doesn’t have the energy to make holding him still difficult anymore, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t fight. They make it harder on him for it, but at least he’s doing something.

“Get off…!” They aren’t going to listen. He knows they won’t, but it comes out anyway.

His torso groans at him for twisting and pulling, all sharp aches and burning pain, but it’s nothing compared to when they get a good enough grasp on his leg to set it properly.

They don’t take precautions. No warning him, nothing for the pain. Everything blurs out for a minute or two, his own scream echoing in his ears. By the time he can focus again they’re halfway through healing the break, the Olkari hovering over him with the gun-shaped healing device they’ve been holding him here to test. The pain in his leg is fading, but everything else still hurts. The device is for focused healing, and of course they’ve never bothered to use it on any of the collateral damage they’ve caused manhandling him.

“You’re contaminating your healing data, you know,” he told them once. After Gold Guy kicked him a few times, frustrated he still wasn’t answering their questions. “I know a lot of scientists; I know these things.”

It only earned him another foot in his rib cage, but it was worth it.

The Olkari was the only one who’d given him any kind of answers, lingering behind after the others had left for the night.

“Our planets were destroyed or devastated by the war. We need resources to start over, and no one’s ever been able to perfect a portable version of a healing device - nothing as powerful as the healing pods the Alteans have. Do you know how much this will be worth?”

Lance just stared at her. “There are better ways to do it!”

She shook her head, answering tersely. “It would take too long, and no one would volunteer for this.” For a moment she almost seemed to feel guilty, her gaze skipping over the dislocated shoulder he was cradling at the time.

He scoffed. “You’ve got that right. What’s wrong with time? The Olkari are doing fine on Altea for now, why—?”

“We need our OWN planet. So we can truly rebuild. Your own people have had to rebuild; don’t you understand that?”

“The feelings, yeah, sure, but I don’t understand how you can justify doing this to someone!” Lance snapped back. “And I haven’t been the only one, have I? What happened to the people who disappeared near here? Or near the base where we ran into you, if we’re not there? Whatever.”

He didn’t get an answer. He didn’t get to ask about Pidge again. She glared and walked away and she hasn’t spoken directly to him since.

The monitors across his skin are beeping, sending data to the pad the blue alien is holding. Telling them how well it’s working. His resolve not to answer their questions hasn’t broken, but they must get enough from their instruments to keep going.

The Olkari pushes quickly to her feet as she shuts off the healing device, responding sharply to something Blue Lady said. Lance doesn’t make it out over focusing on his leg, carefully moving it and flexing the muscles and trying to assure himself it’s all right now. They haven’t touched the shoulder wound, and he can’t remember if that was even a test.

Gold Guy doesn’t seem to care one way or the other. He yanks Lance to his feet before he can really get his bearings.

“Hey!” He hisses, his shoulder burning. At least his leg doesn’t give out. It twinges when he stumbles into putting weight on it for the first time, but seems solid enough.

Blue Lady and the Olkari are still arguing in hushed tones.

Lance can make out enough to make his blood freeze.

“That...never worked! We have enough—”

“...have to...rid of him anyway.”

What?

No no no...he tries to pull away from Gold Guy on instinct, but the fingers digging into his arms are too tight. His strength has been failing him for days; did he really expect it to be any better now?

They’re all looking at him. The Olkari is shaking her head about something, but Blue Lady isn’t listening anymore. She isn’t keeping her voice down anymore.

“Did you think the others all died by accident?”

“They died because you took it too far!” the Olkari fumes.

A shrug. She smiles strangely at Lance. “Might as well gather as much data as we can. We can’t have anyone left to tell the market how we tested.”

Lance falls back a step into Gold Guy, his breath hitching when one of the other lab assistants hands the blue alien something like a spear through the bars of the cell.

“Y-You don’t have to…” He runs out of air before he can finish the sentence.

They were supposed to find him before now. He was supposed to be out of here by now.

“Don’t worry,” she says, hefting the weapon. “We’ll still try to heal you. Who knows; maybe it’ll work. We’ve improved the design. It’ll be worth more if we can claim it helps with life-threatening injuries, after all.”

Another step back. He lands on a foot, and Gold Guy shoves him off.

He’s free but still trapped in a cell with a crazy alien coming at him with a weapon. He has nowhere to go.

Pidge…

“Where is she?” he demands, desperate. “Where is Pidge? A-at least tell me that!”

Blue Lady opens her mouth as if she might answer, but it never comes. She advances on him again and when he steps back one more Lance thinks, at first, that he stops because Gold Guy...punched him in the back?

But his legs are dropping out from under him and he doesn’t know why. It wasn’t that bad, was it? But—

His knees hit the ground.

It hurts now.

His hands find the tip of the spear-like weapon protruding from his stomach before he sees it, and Blue Lady is putting down her own weapon and Gold Guy is laughing behind him, and he knows what happened.

Vaguely. Almost as if he’s watching from far away.

He starts to have strange thoughts like...will they just watch him die, or leave him alone long enough that he can get to the picture hidden in his suit?

Oh wait, she said they’d try to heal him, didn’t she?

But she also said she’d make sure to kill him anyway.

Pidge! A spark of alarm as he gasps through the pain making its’ way into his consciousness.

I’m sorry...

Lance thinks for a moment that he can hear Pidge calling to him.

But then the spear tip disappears, and a fresh wave of agony sends him toppling over some kind of ledge in his mind he didn’t even know he was on, and the questions and the seeds of panic are fading with everything else.

***

The feeling of falling yanks Lance back to awareness, but more the sort of sense one has in a dream. Like he didn’t fall far or it was all in his head. The ceiling of the cell is blurry above him and…

“Lance? Lance!”

He isn’t on the floor. For the first time in what feels like forever, it isn’t the hard coldness of the floor under his back. An arm cradles his head, a knee under his back.

“Lance!”

He makes out the familiar honey eyes first. Then the worry in them.

“P—” His throat is dry, the words trapped.  

Pidge smiles down at him, but it looks strained. “I’m right here. It’s okay, it’s okay; we’re working on you.”

Another voice, the Olkari leaned over him beside Pidge, talking almost to herself. “I have the wound sealed in the back so at least we’re only working with one open wound, but I can’t seal the front until enough of the internal damage is repaired. That’s assuming it can be healed quickly enough and the blade didn’t hit too many things that are important…”

The slight warmth of the healing device’s beam is spread over his torso, and maybe he should be surprised that the Olkari is helping them, but he isn’t.

He winces at her assessment, but Pidge rests a hand against his cheek so he’ll look back to her. “Hey, you’ll be fine. You’ve got a wedding in a week and I’m pretty sure you haven’t even written your vows.”

Lance swallows until he’s more sure he can speak. “Didn’t...didn’t miss it?”

She smiles again, and this time it reaches her eyes. “You’re not getting out of it.”

He snorts, but that hurts. “Ahhhhooohhkay. Ow. Anyway, I was...gonna wing it.”

Pidge almost laughs. “YOU can’t wing it; I was gonna wing it. We can’t both wing it.”

“...why not?”

The Olkari interrupts, nudging Pidge. “I think it’s going to work,” she murmurs.

Lance thinks, maybe, that she’s right. The sensation of pain fading has become familiar. The feeling of being almost whole again is something he recognizes now.

Pidge laughs now, in relief. When she lets her forehead drift down against his, she’s answering his question. “Because knowing us, that would be a disaster.”

He smiles, reaching to draw unsteady fingers through her hair. “-t’s probably...what everyone expects anyway. Give the people what they want.” She’s still laughing, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s heard in...what’s apparently been weeks. “I missed you…”

The Olkari woman is starting to close the wound, which means it is working. He’s going to be fine, right? So why does Pidge’s laughter dissolve into tears?

“Pidge?”

“I missed you too. I’m sorry.” She pulls away enough to swipe at her eyes. “I’m sorry it took so long for us to find you and get in here. I couldn’t remember anything after the blast. Olia and the others got to me in time to run them off before they could grab both of us, but they said you were gone and they didn’t know which way they went, and we needed backup and—”

“Pidge, Pidge, you’re babbling. Hey, it doesn’t matter…”

Pidge has to make room for the Olkari to get to the gash across his shoulder, but Lance squeezes her hand to reassure her until the wound is healed and they’re alone again. Or as alone as they can be with Garrison personnel swarming the lab outside the cell, presumably gathering evidence and equipment and taking the other scientists and techs and goons into custody.

He’s able to catch the eyes of the Olkari woman before they lead her away. She nods slightly when mouths his thanks.

“You’re okay?” Pidge is asking. She’s looking him over like she’s afraid they missed something. “It worked?”

Lance winces as she helps him sit up. The serious wounds are gone and the bruises that were near them have disappeared, but there are more. Tender places and smaller cuts. He still feels weak and shaky.

“I’m not skewered anymore, anyway.”

“Good.” She latches her arms around his neck, all but pulling herself into his lap.

“Oof! Yeah…” He doesn’t mind at all, holding on tight and breathing in her scent, soaking in her warmth and the comforting sensation of her fingers in his hair and her heart beating against his.

“They wouldn’t tell me what happened to you,” he murmurs. Tears are building behind his eyelids against his will.

Well. His turn, then.

“I-I didn’t know...they wouldn’t tell me where you were. I…”

Slightly chapped lips kiss the first of the tears from his face, tickling where they brush. “I’m right here,” Pidge whispers.

Lance is shivering again, but this time he knows he won’t shake apart. He has everything he needs to stay together, right here. All the warmth he could ever want. “I love you,” he breathes.