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Nadia gapes at said genius. “What.”

“You heard me.”

“That’s quite hard to believe,” James chimes in. “You’ve been fighting in a war for years.”

Pidge shrugs as she taps on her tablet to run a systems check on Ryan’s unit. “I have my brain, my bayard, and Green. They’ve kept me alive so far.”

“I’ve seen your bayard. It’s just a short blade with a grapple and static discharge.”

“Works just fine for me. For the most part.”

“But long-range weapons give offensive power while providing distance and cover,” Ryan argues, to the team’s agreement.

“Short-range weapons and grapples require contact. Larger enemies will overpower you,” Ina says. “Pistol-sized blasters would work best for you; you should try it.”

An idea sparks to life in Nadia’s brain. She looks at Ina. Then at Pidge. Then at the others. Then she grins. “Let’s do it. With us as your teachers, you’ll be wielding a gun in under a week.”

Pidge sends back a challenging smirk. “Oh yeah?”

She plants her hands on her hips. “Wanna bet?”

* * *

Nadia, of course, wins. Because as she said, Commander Holt’s daughter, Katie Holt, is a genius.

Five days of putting up with James and Ryan’s great demos but useless explanations, absorbing Ina’s breakdown of the principles of aiming and shooting, and following Nadia’s strict instructions on posture and aim, and Pidge is at the Garrison’s shooting range, blasting target after target at the final stage of her expert-level shooting course.

Watching from a safe distance behind Pidge, Nadia puffs out her chest. She turns to her team. “What did I tell you guys?”

“She’ll be wielding a gun in under a week,” Ina supplies.

“She’s a genius,” Ryan answers next.

James releases a long sigh before replying, “This will be fun.”

Nadia nods smugly to each response. “And I was right.” She directs her attention back to Pidge, who’s just about to finish the stage.

“Really makes me wonder why she never learned,” James comments after a while. “Two of her teammates use long-range weapons.”

“Ask one of them yourself.”

At Ryan’s words, they all turn towards the entrance. Lance has just entered and is approaching them with a friendly smile.

Nadia hasn’t hung out with him as much as she has with Pidge or Hunk, but she’s heard a lot about him. Seems like a nice, fun guy. And since those two like him so much, then by transitivity, she likes him, too.

She smiles when he reaches them. “Lance! What’s up?”

“Hey, guys,” he greets. “Have any of you seen Pidge? Shiro sent me to get her.”

“Pidge? Oh, you mean…” She jerks a thumb behind her and raises her voice. “…the badass over there firing a gun like a pro?”

Pidge curses. Nadia turns just in time to see her miss a quickly moving target. “Nadia! Don’t distract me!” she shouts as she fixes her aim.

Nadia laughs, stepping a bit to the left to give Lance a better view. He looks dazed watching Pidge hit every target with ease. Even if her back is towards them, her confidence is obvious in her relaxed posture and steady aim.

Nadia wasn’t lying when she said Pidge is a pro. She can’t help puffing out her chest again. She’s so proud of her team’s work and her friend’s newly acquired skill.

“She can…” Lance starts but doesn’t finish. More like forgets to finish. He’s so enthralled by the sight before him, he probably hasn’t realized he spoke up.

“Yep,” she answers anyway, to which Ina adds, “Four point two enemies per minute. Eighty-two percent accuracy. Sixty-eight percent headshots, twenty-four percent torso, six percent arms, two percent legs.”

“Yeah. What Ina said.”

“She learned from us in five days,” James says, his arms crossed. “And only during our free time. I’m sure she would have learned faster from you Paladins.” His tone is casual, but his words have a critical undertone to them.

Nadia quirks a brow and trades a glance with Ina and Ryan.

Is he… throwing shade at Lance?

Lance seems to think so, too, because he tears his eyes from Pidge to shoot James a look that’s borderline hostile. But before he can speak, James shrugs cockily at him and walks over to Pidge, leaving silence in his wake.

What is up with him?

And please, Ina, do not comment on it.

A few feet before them, James proceeds to give Pidge pointers now that she’s done with her course.

And the silence turns awkward.

It starts to weigh on Nadia, so she initiates a conversation with Lance. “So, Lance. You said Shiro needs Pidge?”

“Yeah. He needs help decoding an encrypted message or some…thing…” he trails off, his brows furrowing and eyes narrowing in a glare.

She follows the direction of his gaze, finding Pidge at the end. James is standing close beside her with one hand on her shoulder and another on her wrist as he corrects her posture, and she’s nodding attentively to whatever he’s saying.

Nadia narrows her eyes when they return to Lance. She can tell that something’s happening, but she can’t pinpoint what.

“He’s at the bridge with Sam and Officer Curtis,” he continues as if he hasn’t suddenly stopped talking for two whole minutes. He gives them a stiff smile. “Please tell her that after she’s done.” And then he turns to leave.

At the exact moment Pidge turns towards him. Her excited grin instantly falls into a disappointed frown when she finds him walking out the door.

Oh my gosh. Did I really just see that?

It’s such a dramatic moment that Nadia nearly shivers from the thrill.

“That was awkward,” Ina belatedly states.

Nadia gives her a wry smile. “I’m surprised you’re only pointing it out now.”

“It wasn’t a favorable option a while ago.”

“What did Lance want?” Pidge asks, walking towards them, her eyes still trained on the door.

“To deliver a message,” Ryan answers unhelpfully.

Seriously? Nadia side-eyes him before explaining, “You’re needed at the bridge.”

“Oh,” she says despondently. “I’m guessing Shiro, Dad, and Officer Curtis need me?”

“Yep.”

Pidge sighs. “Gotta go, then.” She gives them a thankful smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you guys so much for teaching me. I can’t believe you really did it in less than a week.”

“No need to thank us,” James says, smiling back. “It was a necessary skill.”

“You’re welcome anyway,” Nadia replies with a grin.

“Maybe you can turn your weapon into a gun next time,” Ryan adds.

“You seem sad.”

All heads snap towards Ina in varying degrees of horrified, and she doesn’t even notice.

“O-Oh, um…” Pidge stutters, “I’m just uh… sad. That I… have to leave now.”

“You can continue practicing tomorrow. Everyone’s free times overlap for two hours in the afternoon.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” With a short wave, she takes her leave.

Nadia stares intently at Pidge’s retreating back.

Yes, Katie Holt is a genius. Yes, she can do a lot of cool things, including mastering her shooting skills in five days.

But she can’t hide her emotions to save her life.

It goes without saying that no one—not even Ina—is buying her lie. So why do it? She’s obviously upset because of Lance. But why? Speaking of Lance, why was he glaring earlier? Was he glaring at James? At Pidge?

“Rizavi.” James’ voice pulls her away from her thoughts. “You’re plotting something.”

“Not yet,” Nadia replies. “But didn’t you see how those two acted? There’s just something about them.” She looks at each of her teammates. “I’m going to find out what.”

____

(James)

People, in general, are easy to read.

From their expressions, words, actions… there’s always some information about the person to be gleaned.

James supposes that’s what makes him work well as a leader. He can understand the motive behind Ryan’s actions, follow the logic in Ina’s words, tell that Nadia is plotting something when her eyes start to glint. After years together as a team, he can accurately anticipate the actions they’ll take on certain scenarios.

And right now, he knows exactly what Nadia is doing.

“Welcome to the training hall,” she tells Pidge and Lance with a sweeping flourish of her hands. “Time for holographic campaign simulations, Pidge.”

“What am I doing here again?” Lance asks then immediately backtracks, “Not to say I’m not okay with it or anything.”

“We’re short one person. Campaigns require working in pairs.” She sends James a pointed look. “Right?”

Wrong, but for the sake of her plot, he answers a “Yeah.”

She grins and nods, taking out three white strings of different lengths from her pocket. She aligns the ends and covers the middle parts with her palms. “Okay, now pick one end and tug on it.”

Ina and Ryan glance at him, their question clear: ‘Are you really letting her do this?’

James replies with an amused smile and a shrug. ‘Why not?’ He pinches one end and pulls. If he’s seen through Nadia’s plan correctly, the one who tugs on the other end should be…

Pidge smiles up at him. “Looks like we’re a team.”

He suppresses a smirk. “Looking forward to it.”

His spine suddenly tingles with the sensation of being watched, and he catches the tail-end of Lance’s glare before he turns away to prepare with Nadia. The smug amusement gets the better of James. He allows himself to smirk.

Being able to read people isn’t limited to his team, of course. How else will he predict Hunk and Keith’s infiltration plan if not for the knowledge that Hunk is terrified for his family and Keith is the reckless, ride-or-die type of guy who would go with his friend? How else will he find out that Curtis has a crush on Captain Shirogane if he hasn’t noticed Curtis’ lingering looks on the Captain? How else will he realize that Pidge has feelings for Lance if he hasn’t seen her face glow when he tells her that Lance is watching her and then fall when she finds him leaving, his back turned towards her? How else will he know that Lance likes her back if not for Lance’s obviously jealous glares at him?

How else will he establish that they don’t know their feelings are mutual if not for the stolen, pining glances every so often?

Nadia chooses a campaign that James holds the best record for. No doubt she intends to gauge Lance’s reaction when they lose to James and Pidge. She’s on the right track; Lance’s jealousy will be aggravated if he thinks that James and Pidge’s teamwork is the sole reason for their sure win, and his feelings will become more apparent.

James prepares his blaster, showily helps Pidge prepare hers, then leads her to their starting point.

“We’re ready, Rizavi, Lance.”

He hopes Nadia catches on soon. Maybe then she’ll be more perceptive of the subtler cues around her. Like his advances that she always unintentionally deflects without even knowing.

____

(Ryan)

Ryan is an observer of life, a spectator of the world through and through. If he were to compare himself to something, he’d be a sponge that absorbs everything and gives nothing away unless pressed.

But after bearing witness to the same unchanging event so many times, he’s just about ready to talk. After all, even sponges can only absorb so much before the excess spills out.

“Nooo, I’m too late!”

His eyes dart towards the newcomer.

Hunk has stopped by the training hall, hands holding a tray with two glasses of probably milkshake, gaze fixed on the competing pairs in the middle of a campaign simulation, James and Nadia versus Pidge and Lance. “I wanted them to taste-test…” He casts his eyes down in a slight pout. After a few moments, he looks at Ryan and Ina with hopeful eyes. “Hey, maybe you guys can do it? Tell me what you think. And be honest; I promise not to get offended.” He raises the tray towards them.

They take it without question.

“Thanks.”

“Thank you.”

It’s no secret that Hunk is a genius chef who loves cooking and knows his yeast, much like Ryan. Ryan can never doubt anyone who knows their yeast.

True enough, the milkshake tastes divine, and he says so, Ina’s agreement following close.

Hunk chuckles pleasantly. “That’s great. I was experimenting with the proportion of the ingredients to accommodate this alien vanilla that adds a distinct tang.”

The buzzer goes off to mark the end of the campaign. The three of them redirect their attention to the simulation zone. Nadia, James, Lance, and Pidge huddle together before the performance analyzer, waiting for the results.

Despite not seeing the results the moment they appear, it’s easy for Ryan to see who won.

Rather, it’s easy to hear who won.

“Yeah!!” Pidge and Lance cry out, pumping their fists in victory.

“We did it, Pidge!” Lance says. Beaming, Pidge turns to him and raises her arms for what seems to be a hug. He drops his gun and holds out his hands towards her waist. Then they both freeze mid-action and abruptly turn away from each other, Lance scratching the back of his neck before picking up his gun.

Irk bubbles in Ryan’s chest. He’s honestly tired of watching them do this every single time they win.

“They’re so… awkward with each other,” he comments as he returns his glass.

“Ugh. Tell me about it,” Hunk whines. “Imagine seeing them, like, every day.”

Ryan releases a fed-up, sympathetic grunt.

God forbid.

____

(Ina)

Ina’s brain isn’t wired to read social cues.

What it is wired for are observation and analysis, and she depends on her rapid processing skills to assess the situation, approximate the meaning of the social cues from previous experience, and act accordingly. Her approximations don’t always reach the acceptable level of correctness, which leads to inappropriate responses, but her team has helped her greatly with that. By observing Ryan’s body language, watching Nadia’s ever-changing expressions, and listening to James’ simplified explanations, Ina’s approximations and understanding of human behavior have increased in accuracy by sixty-seven percent.

She’s always thought that her current level of comprehension is sufficient to keep up with most situations.

Lance’s and Pidge’s recent changes in behavior, however, are making her think otherwise.

They behave as they normally do outside each other’s presence. They work in perfect sync when working together as Paladins or partners during campaign simulations. But once their tasks are done, they oscillate between acting like best friends and barely being able to make eye contact. The behavioral changes have no apparent trend or pattern that she can follow in order to act properly or say anything other than “The atmosphere is very tense and awkward.” when they behave aberrantly.

Ina has never encountered their confusing behavior before; it mildly frustrates her that she doesn’t have enough information for a proper analysis.

“What are you guys?” she finally blurts out one day as the three of them watch James and Hunk compete against Nadia and Ryan on the simulator.

Pidge and Lance share a look that she’s learned indicates uncertainty.

“We’re…” Lance begins to say.

“We’re uh…” Pidge begins at the same time.

“Friends?” “Humans?”

They look at each other again, this time with mirroring frowns.

He puts both hands on his hips. “Really, Pidge? Humans?”

Pidge crosses her arms and glares up at him. “Ina asked what we are! Obviously, we’re humans!”

“Of course we’re humans! She’s obviously asking how we’re related to each other!”

It occurs to Ina that they’ve left her out of the conversation, as if they’ve forgotten that she’s there with them. She takes the opportunity to study their interaction to derive her own conclusion.

“But we’re not related to each other! You’re from Cuba and I’m part-Italian!”

“Argh! Not that kind of related!”

“Can you please be a bit more specific?!”

“She’s asking what our relationship is!”

Ina, who’s been quietly following their quick back-and-forth with her eyes, almost gets a whiplash when Pidge doesn’t retort. Upon further observation, she’s gone completely still as well.

“We don’t have a relationship, Lance.” Pidge’s voice is devoid of the heat and energy of her previous counterarguments.

Ina notices Lance’s foot twitch—to step towards Pidge, she deduces—but it ends up staying in place. “We’re friends… right?” he returns, tone quiet and somewhat… pleading?

She tilts her head in confusion.

Pidge bows her head, her bangs and glasses obscuring her face. “Friends. Right.” With her head hung low, she misses the way Lance momentarily winces at her words.

For what reason, Ina can’t figure out.

After a deep inspiration, Pidge turns to her, smiling but also not really smiling. “Either way, does that answer your question, Ina?”

Ina’s eyes dart from Pidge to Lance back to Pidge again as her mind reaches a conclusion.

“Yeah. Partly.”

These two are complicated.

____

(Curtis)

“Pidge!” Cadet—no, Paladin Lance bellows as he barges into the Green Lion’s hangar. The door hisses angrily closed behind him—if that’s even possible.

Curtis knows why he’s here. Intel of Paladin Pidge’s secret mission has been leaked to him somehow. This only proves that the IGF-Atlas crew isn’t as tight as Captain Shirogane and Commander Holt are hoping, and all the more the necessity for all the moles to be baited and weeded out before launching.

Seeing the shocked, panicked expression on Paladin Pidge’s face, Curtis decides to intercept Paladin Lance’s approach.

“Paladin Pidge is busy,” he explains, not budging when the Blue Paladin tries to push past him.

“Isn’t she always? Aren’t we all?” Paladin Lance all but growls. “Maybe since she’s spending too much time on secret missions behind everyone’s backs, she’d make a little time to explain why she’s doing everything without her Team.” Not once does his glare leave Paladin Pidge, who stands frozen behind Curtis.

Curtis tries to reason again: “You have to understand—”

“I won’t understand without a proper explanation.”

“Now is not—” A small hand rests on his arm to stop him. He looks back at Paladin Pidge in surprise.

“It’s fine, Officer. Can you give us a dobosh—I mean, a minute?” She gives him a slight smile that disappears as her gaze shifts to the Paladin he’s still restraining.

“Are you sure?” he asks, regarding her with concern. “You only have a ten-minute allowance, and you should have taken off three minutes a—”

“I’m still at a safe margin,” she assures. “I promise I won’t take long.”

Curtis glances at the still-enraged Paladin Lance. He doubts that very much. Nonetheless, he sighs and capitulates, resolving to call the Captain should an argument arise and interfere with the mission. “Okay,” he says, retreating to a distance that somewhat allows privacy but also alerts him of any brewing conflict.

It’s not that he questions the two’s friendship; it’s just that the air around them is so charged that he’s not sure he can intervene at any point anymore. The tension has only increased after he’s given them some room to talk.

Maybe it’s better to summon the Captain now.

Curtis murmurs into his communicator, “Captain, there’s potential trouble in the Green Lion’s hangar.”

A reply crackles softly from the headpiece. “On my way.”

“I don’t have time to explain anything other than I’m on a secret mission,” Paladin Pidge says, drawing his attention back to the pair. “The fact that you know about it means I’m not done with it yet.”

“What’s the mission?”

“Classified. It’s called secret for a reason, Lance.”

“Where are you going?”

“Classified.”

“Who’s your support?”

“Green.”

“Green?! Pidge, have you been going off alone?!”

“Yeah. So?” she answers defiantly, but her hand moves to grip her forearm in a defensive gesture as Paladin Lance’s anger mounts.

“What do you mean ‘so’?! Why is no one backing you up?!”

The quiet hiss of the hangar doors heralds the Captain’s arrival. In seconds, Captain Shirogane has reached his side and is watching the argument with worried eyes. “How many minutes until Pidge’s time is up?”

He checks his timer. “Seven.”

Captain Shirogane sighs. “Let’s give them five. I have a feeling they need this talk.”

Curtis knits his brows and looks at his Captain. “Not to be insubordinate, sir, but are you sure?”

“No. But let’s hope I’m right.”

“…the more people who know, the more the mission is compromised. Besides, Green and I specialize at stealth—”

“You didn’t think to ask anyone on the Team—”

“Everyone’s busy or can’t keep a secret. Look, I don’t have time—”

“You could’ve asked me for support, Pidge! I’m not as busy and I can—”

“Can what? I can read your thoughts on your face and body language, Lance! You can’t keep something top secret for so long without arousing suspicion! Why are you here, anyway?! If there’s anyone who needs your support, it’s Allura, so go support her instead of wasting my time!!” Paladin Pidge erupts, her words reverberating harshly around the hangar.

Heavy silence falls soon after.

Curtis catches the flash of hurt on Paladin Lance’s face before he turns his head away, the tension in his body evident through the clenched fists at his sides. Curtis barely hears the next words, subdued as they are: “Don’t tell me what to do, Pidge.”

“I won’t if you won’t.”

Paladin Pidge spins on her heel then and walks briskly towards her Lion. “I’m ready to go, Officer. Hey, Shiro,” she manages to murmur as she passes them.

Behind her, Paladin Lance has yet to lift his head or move.

Curtis looks worriedly at his Captain, unsure if this is the outcome they were supposed to hope for. Troubled eyes meet his.

The launch sequence begins its countdown.