Chapter Text
The Holt Family Bakery had been, in Pidge's personal opinion, the best place to buy bread that side of town.
It had been a cosy little place, nestled in between two larger buildings towards the north end of Arus High Street. The place was always warmly lit and the heavenly scent of fresh baked goods would waft through the air surrounding the place, enticing in customers like the song of a siren.
What had made the place that bit more homely was that it had been a family run business, started up by her parents before she and her brother were even an idea in their heads. It had been kept alive and running by the hard work and effort the entire family put in. The bakery had been their livelihood, their own miniature paradise tucked away in that bustling little town. To have everything they put into that place be swept under the rug, trampled on like it was nothing, had been heartbreaking for the entire Holt family.
And it was all the fault of that stupid chain bakery which had set up a few doors down and across the road. The blasted store had somehow managed to worm it's way into every town and city that side of the country. Zarkon's. Even the name left a foul taste in your mouth.
People had swarmed there almost immediately, leaving their little family run business in the dust. The prices were cheaper, their opening times more consistent, their service quicker, and their cakes more artificial. Zarkon's even sold take-away cups of coffee to go with their cheaply disgusting yet ridiculously tasty cakes, but with their number of customers dwindling, a coffee machine was the last thing the Holt's could think of investing in.
The Holt Family's regular customers had stayed true and loyal but eventually even they weren't enough to keep the place in business. Pidge had cursed Zarkon's when her parents had sat the three of them down after closing up for the night, explaining to them that the upcoming week would be their last. Since then she had held an irrepressible dislike for the place, going as far as to avoid passing anywhere near the shop at all.
Pidge groaned as the image of the gaudy purple and yellow sign which hung above the rival bakery's door flashed into her mind. Her moment of disgust didn't go unnoticed by her customer either as she slid the carefully filled mug across the counter towards him.
“Oh, thanks,” Hunk says, cradling the steaming cup in his hands.“Was it something I said?”
“It's not you,” Pidge corrects herself, leaning herself forward on the worktop.
“It's Zarkon's right? You're thinking about Zarkon's again,” Hunk states, raising his eyebrows as he sips carefully at the warm cocoa which ripples at the brim of the mug.
Usually Pidge wouldn't reply and instead motion with a flick of her wrist for him to scram, but it's almost closing time and the coffee-shop is completely barren. Also humouring Hunk means extra time away from the disaster of an apartment she's currently cohabiting.
“I just hate that place so damn much,” she curses, pushing her glasses further up her nose and tightening the band in her hair.“It's so ugly, and the cakes are so artificial. I can't believe people actually wanted to go to that place...”
She trails off with a sigh, letting her shoulders droop forward. Hunk watches her with pity in his eyes and she knows damn well she should've gotten over it by now. It's been six months already.
It's just not fair, she tells herself, all those big companies driving all us little guys out of jobs.
“Hey, buddy. It's alright,” Hunk reassures her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze. “I totally get it. Though you'll have to forgive me for buying several of their cakes. Without your shop around anymore there's nowhere that has quite the same amount of selection.”
“Ugh,” Pidge simply replies, straightening up and turning around to clean the milk off the steamer nozzle.
Silence falls over the desolate cafe for a while, the only noise being the sound of fabric on metal as she cleans down the machine and the delicate slurps Hunk takes of his drink.
“I hear they're still wanting to expand into the shop next door,” Pidge breaks the silence, turning around now that she has finished wiping everything down. “How's Shay holding up?”
“She's doing alright, I guess,” the wistful look in Hunk's eyes doesn't go unnoticed by Pidge. “Her and her family aren't really the type to go down without a fight.”
“Good,” Pidge nods. “Tell her if she ever needs help getting those asswipes to back off that she can call me.”
Hunk laughs at that and it makes Pidge laugh as well. Curse him and his infectious smile.
“I mean, I can imagine Rax is already giving them a hell of a time,” Hunk says, pushing his mug back towards her across the counter. “Well, I need to be getting home. We're having beef stroganoff for dinner.”
“Gross,” Pidge replies with a crinkle of her nose.
“Just because you and Shiro live off take-out doesn't mean I have to,” Hunk smiles at her as he begins to make his way to the door. “See you tomorrow buddy!”
She's about to shout her goodbye in return when he stops with his hand on the door, turning as he adds on a last minute thought.
“Oh yeah, it also seems like someone has finally started to take up shop in the old building!”
And with that he's gone and Pidge stares confused at the place her friend once occupied.
With a shake of her head she snaps herself out of it, followed by an added roll of her shoulders to loosen up the stiffness that's built up there over the course of the day. Content that she's gotten herself at least a little more relaxed, she meanders slowly over to the door, turning over the open sign and moving to lock it when she sees something that gives her pause. Well two things to be exact. One being the familiar figure loitering around to the side of the door, hands in his pocket as he attempts to look nonchalant. And two being that there are lights on in the old Holt Family Bakery building across the street, the occasional shadow of a human floating past the shuttered windows.
She'll deal with the idiot waiting outside first.
Opening the door she proceeds to poke her head out and scowl at him. Shiro doesn't appear to notice at first, continuing to stand there, completely oblivious to her wrathful gaze. Then he does notice her, and a great big sheepish grin pulls across his face.
“I was hoping to surprise you,” he says in way of explanation and Pidge has to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes straight out of her skull.
“By what? Catching a cold and being bedridden for the next couple of days, causing me to have to stay by your side and nurse you back to health? How romantic.”
She opens the door slightly wider in a gesture for him to enter. He does so albeit warily, probably aware of the fact that it's past closing time. He's so good and proper like that, it irritates the living daylights out of her.
“Love you too, Katie,” Shiro says quietly as he passes and Pidge has to attempt to calm the invasive thrumming of her heart.
Stupid thing. Stop beating so loud. He's off limits!
“You say anything to Hunk when he left just now?” she asks in form of a distraction as she clicks the lock of the door and moves over towards the security panel just around the corner from it.
“Asked him how he was doing,” Shiro replies absent-mindedly as he looks around, as if he's not been inside the dinky hipster coffee-shop a thousand times to pick her up already, “He still seems convinced we're dating.”
“Wonder why,” Pidge mumbles moodily to herself as she jabs in the security code and listens as the system beeps a few times to confirm it is indeed activated.
She deliberately ignores the way Shiro raises his eyebrows at her; they've already talked about this a million times. Instead she unties her apron and heads through to the back of the shop, beckoning with a hand for the older man to follow.
“Any plans for dinner?” Shiro asks.
“Yes, actually,” Pidge punctuates with a roll of her eyes, “My billionaire boyfriend is going to be taking me to that new seafood place a few towns over. I hear the caviar is exquisite.”
She tries not to let her stomach drop at the low, rumble of a laugh Shiro lets out as he watches her hang up her apron and pull on her jacket.
“I want pizza,” she says instead, not meeting his eye as she lets her hair loose, running her fingers through it to get rid of any knots.
“Pizza it is then,” Shiro smiles, following her obediently out of the back of the shop, flicking off the lights as he does so.
He's too damn polite to mention how Pidge always fumbles with the keys in the lock of the back door. When she hears the click, finally, she turns to face him with a smile.
“Do we want greasy and disgusting or authentic italian?”
“Greasy and disgusting,” Shiro sighs, “It's been a long day.”
It's now they're out of the brightly lit cafe, the only light coming from the street lamps dotting up and down the high street, that the dark bags under Shiro's eyes seem to stand out even more. It feels like every time she properly looks at him he's aged another year. She wishes she could help, she really does.
They make their way down the back alley of shops, Shiro always one step behind her almost like her personal guard. They're silent, the only noise their feet on the pavement. It doesn't take long for the silence to be broken.
“Hey,” Shiro says, voice loud in the quiet night, “Someone's coming out of the old bakery.”
Pidge follows her companions line of sight, watching as a young woman emerges from the front doors of the building which had once housed the family bakery. The woman in question stops and stands in front of the building, hands on her hips, and eyes roaming over it as a smile plays on her lips.
“Let's go talk to her,” Shiro suggests, giving Pidge a light tap on the back before beginning to make
his way across the street.
“Hey!” Pidge calls after him, jogging forward to try and catch up, “You can't just randomly approach someone on the street this late at night.”
Shiro gives her a quizzical look, slowing his pace slightly so she can catch up to him.
“You're with me so it's fine,” he shrugs, “Besides, don't you want to know what they plan on doing with the old place?”
Pidge bites the inside of her mouth and looks to the side. He's right after all, she does kind of want to know what's happening to the shop she grew up in.
The young lady in front of the shop notices them approaching, she looks kind of surprised, as anyone would be if a beefy guy like Shiro started marching on up to them, but she seems to relax a bit once she sees Pidge tottering after him.
“Hello there?” the woman greets looking somewhat unsure of what this confrontation is going to be about.
Up close Pidge can really get a good look at her. And, sweet jesus, she's beautiful. Long, wavy white hair cascades down her back. Surely that can't be her natural hair colour? Her skin is dark and smooth. And her eyes, Pidge has never been one to get jealous easily but those blue eyes are just unfair.
“I'm Shiro,” Shiro greets the woman, reaching out with his hand to shake hers, “This is Pidge.”
When Shiro gestures to her, Pidge manages to shake out of her reverie and give the woman a polite nod and a smile. She's glad for the dim lighting, the heat in her cheeks tells her that she must be flushed.
“Allura,” the woman greets, shaking Shiro's hand and giving them both a polite smile, “How can I help you?”
A pretty name to go with a pretty face, Pidge finds herself thinking.
“We were just on our way home and we noticed you leaving this place,” Shiro explains, “I couldn't help but be curious. We both used to work at the bakery which used to be here.”
Allura's eyes widen marginally before she nods, gesturing to the building.
“My father's the one who bought this place,” Allura explains, “He backs quite a lot of small businesses this side of the country. He's given me this place as my own personal project. I was actually planning on...” she trails off with a meek smile, “Starting up a bakery.”
Pidge frowns, that wouldn't work well for anyone in town. Zarkon's would run Allura out of business before she even opened shop. They had to warn her.
She looked up to Shiro, expectantly, only to find that he was still smiling. That was odd.
“Here's as good a place as any,” he tells Allura, “People love their bread around here. Just have to make sure Zarkon's doesn't get word of what you're up to.”
A look of disgust passes over Allura's face. It's a look that Pidge and Shiro know all too well.
“Zarkon's,” Allura practically spits, “That place has been running almost half of the businesses my father backs into the ground.”
“Ran us into the ground too,” Pidge points out, gesturing to the bakery, “You're going to have a tough job outshining them.”
Allura's look of disgust quickly turns into a look of guilt, her shoulders drooping slightly.
“Sorry, that was insensitive of me,” she says, “More than just I have suffered at the hands of Zarkon's.”
“You make it sound like they're some evil dictator,” Shiro jokes, lightening the situation.
“An evil cake dictator,” Allura laughs, “That's certainly something.”
With the tension relieved between the three of them they manage to fall into an easy conversation, with Allura asking the pair about the surrounding area and other local businesses. She's new to the county and wants to know what's good and what to avoid. Pidge is more than happy to help, she feels like if anyone has got a chance of beating Zarkon's at their own game it's the woman standing in front of them.
They must've been talking for ten minutes at the very least when an older red-haired man pokes his head out around the door. He has one of the most magnificent moustaches Pidge has ever seen. She glances up at the stubble on Shiro's face, and yes, all other facial hair pales in comparison to this newcomer's majestic 'tache.
“Pardon the intrusion,” the man interrupts, “But, uh, Allura you're phone's been ringing on and off for the past three minutes.”
“Oh... dear,” Allura winces, looking to the man and then to her companions, “Coran, this is Shiro and Pidge, they worked in the bakery that used to be in this building. Shiro, Pidge, this is Coran, my father's good friend. He's hopefully going to be the manager here when I finally set up.”
“A pleasure,” Shiro says reaching out to shake Coran's hand.
Pidge is still too in awe of Coran's luxurious facial hair to do much of anything.
“Here to scout out the competition, ey?” Coran asks, shaking Shiro's hand with such vigour that Pidge is surprised the ligament doesn't go flying off.
“Unfortunately not,” Pidge states, “We're no longer in the baking business.”
It's a half truth, Pidge realises. She's no longer in the baking business. Shiro however, caved and took a job at Zarkon's. She really can't blame him, he needed the money.
“Well we'll be needing experienced workers when we open up,” Allura slips in casually, a cunning look on her face, “Who would be better than people the townsfolk all ready know and trust?”
“We'll consider it, Allura,” Shiro replies casually, “Anyway, we don't want to be keeping you much longer. You must be busy.”
As if to drive this point home the shrill ring of a phone can be heard echoing out of the open bakery doors. Allura pales at the sound.
“Of course,” Allura smiles, “It was a pleasure meeting the two of you. I'll hopefully see you both around.”
And with a nod at both of their new acquaintances, Pidge and Shiro continue to make their way down the deserted high street. Quiet falling between them, both brooding over their encounter.
“She seemed nice,” Shiro breaks the silence, looking over at Pidge.
“Yeah,” she nods, “If anyone is gonna give Zarkon's a run for their money I think it's gonna be her.”
Shiro laughs, quiet yet hearty, and ruffles her hair.
This is nice, Pidge thinks to herself, I could get used to this.
Pidge sits on the counter-top of the family kitchen, bare legs dangling off the side as she happily licks clean the mixing spoon.
“If you think that's good just wait until you taste the final product,” Shiro reaches over to ruffle up her hair, something he's started doing a lot recently.
“Matt is gonna love it,” Pidge assures him with a batter smothered grin.
It was Matt's birthday the next day so Pidge and Shiro had decided to tag team the task of making his birthday cake. The cake itself was chocolate and hazelnut, Matt's favourite combination of course. Sam and Colleen had given the pair a day off from helping around the bakery especially so they could do this. And as much as Pidge wanted to make her brother an awesome, epic, amazing cake for his 18th birthday, she also was enjoying alone time with Shiro. Not that Shiro would ever look at her in any way other than sibling affection. She was still only fifteen for crying out loud.
“How long until it's done?” Pidge asks, swinging herself off the counter now that she's done thoroughly cleaning the spoon with her mouth.
“35 minutes,” Shiro replies before shooting her a devious smirk, “Real question is whether we clean up now or leave it for later.”
Pidge takes a moment to fake contemplation.
“Later,” she decides and Shiro chuckles in agreement.
“Thought so. Want to watch TV until it's done?” he suggests although he's already following her through to the living room.
“We have some old Mythbuster episodes recorded on the box,” Pidge says as she hops over the back of the couch and tackles the remote.
“No chance of watching basketball?” Shiro clearly already knows the suggestion will be rejected, and also exactly what Pidge's reaction will be.
She shoots him a disapproving look before switching on the TV and flicking through the guide until she finds the recordings.
“Nobody in this house watches sports, Shiro.”
“Matt said that you guys watch pro-wrestling,” Shiro points out, taking a seat beside the girl and not bothering to protest when she shoves her bare feet in his lap.
“Wrestling isn't a sport,” Pidge explains, “It's a religion.”
“Of course,” Shiro nods and the pair fall into silence.
Pidge wishes she could say that she was deeply engrossed in Mythbusters but it was pretty hard to concentrate on the television when someone of Shiro's looks and physique was sitting right beside you with your feet in their lap.
It took a long time for Pidge to actually pluck up the courage to try something, and it was beyond stupid. She dug her toes into Shiro's thigh, watching for a reaction, and when nothing came of it, she dug them in harder. The second attempt enticed a reaction from the man.
“What are you doing?” he asks, looking over to her with raised eyebrows and his eyes narrowed.
Of course, like what all teenagers do when faced with confrontation, Pidge lied.
“I'm bored,” she groans, sticking her leg up to waft her foot in his face,
“So you've taken to tormenting me with your smelly feet,” Shiro questions with a devious smirk that causes Pidge's breath to catch in her throat.
“Yes. And they're not smelly,” Pidge manages to say, adding the last part with a pout.
Suddenly Shiro's hand wraps around her ankle and Pidge lets out an audible squeak, because she was not expecting that. She watches in a mixture of anticipation and amusement as Shiro pretends to sniff at her feet before pulling an exaggerated expression of disgust.
“Definitely smelly,” Shiro teases, “No doubt about it.”
“I bet your feet are worse,” Pidge retorts with a wicked grin, removing her feet from Shiro's lap so she can sit crossed legged on the sofa beside him.
“Oh definitely,” Shiro says, “Takes one to known one.”
And then Shiro's reaching over to ruffle her hair once more, and Pidge can't help but blush. It is of course, just when she's about to nestle into Shiro's side that the kitchen timer goes off. Echoing throughout the house.
“Back to the more pressing matter,” Shiro smiles before he's pushing himself up and off the couch.
They're sitting outside the coffee-shop on one of the rare days off they both share. Pidge happily chowing down a panini whilst Shiro watches her with that oh-so-familiar fond smile. She hates when he does that, so like always she pretends not to notice it. Instead she let her eyes settle on the bakery. Renovations were in full swing now and she couldn't help but be curious as to how the layout inside would change.
Both of them haven't seen Allura for a while now. The last time Pidge encountered her had been when she'd dropped by the building a few days ago on her way home from work. She may have slid Allura a copy of her CV. Just like everyone else, Allura had obviously been surprised when she found out Pidge graduated from high school early.
“Not all of us 'child geniuses' go into the sciences or engineering,” Pidge had simply said with a shrug.
The bakery owner seemed to have responded positively with the first quick glance she took at the CV and Pidge couldn't help but get her hopes up. She wasn't expecting to hear back from Allura straight away, but she can't help but feel anxious awaiting her reply.
“She'll get back to you eventually,” Shiro says, reading her thoughts like he always does, “She's probably busy with all the renovations. I wouldn't worry about it.”
“Yeah,” Pidge sighs, taking another mouthful of panini before speaking, “You sure you don't want to apply for a job as well? Surely it would be a step up from Zarkon's.”
Shiro smiles awkwardly before reaching up to scratch behind his ear, an anxious habit he's recently picked up, Pidge noted.
“Maybe,” he shrugs finally, “At the moment I'd just like some stability.”
Pidge leans forward, pointing her panini in the man's face.
“Stability is for quitters,” she states after she gulps down a lump of cheesy bread, “Stability is for middle aged housewives who live in the suburbs with their adulterer husbands and two point five kids. Do you want to settle for being a housewife Shiro?”
“You know I don't want to be a housewife, Pidge,” Shiro swats lightly at the panini pointed in his face and Pidge retracts it, “Just, the pay is good. And I'm finally getting the hang of dealing with Sendak.”
“Ugggh,” Pidge groans, slumping down in her seat and downing the rest of her lunch, “Right there is another reason you should quit. That guy is draining the life force out of you.”
Shiro smiles at her again, warm and comforting and it makes her stupid heart race like mad.
“There's more to what I'm going through than Sendak,” Shiro tells her, “If all my problems would go away just by quitting Zarkon's you know I'd leave there in a heartbeat.”
Pidge sighs, sliding down further into her seat until her eyes barely peek out over the little table between them. It's times like these that she needed Matt here with her. He always knew what to say when Shiro was doubting himself. It was usually something sarcastic yet light-hearted and encouraging. God, she wished she knew how to be encouraging.
“I wish Matt were here,” she settles for saying instead, “He'd know how to convince you. Probably say something like,” she coughs and attempts to do the best impression she can of her brother, “Oh come on Shiro! Leaving Zarkon's would solve at least one of your problems. Besides, working at the new bakery would mean you'd get to eat real cake again! Not the fake imposter cakes they sell at Zarkon's!”
She can't help but beam at the way Shiro laughs, reaching up to wipe imaginary tears from his eyes.
“Where would I be without the pair of you?” Shiro breathes out and Pidge swears that her heart stops when he makes eye contact with her.
“Knowing you, probably in a ditch somewhere,” she replies as snarkily as she can, but it doesn't work the way she plans because suddenly Shiro's smiling wider and reaching over the table to mess up her hair.
Pidge resigns herself to the hair abuse.
“At least give Allura your CV,” she mumbles instead of retaliating, “You can always turn her down if she offers you a job.”
“I'll think about it, Pidge,” Shiro says as he settles back into his chair.
“Promise me you will?”
“I promise.”
It had been just over two weeks now since Pidge had dropped off her CV with the new bakery owner. After her talk with Shiro, Pidge had found herself bumping into Allura more and more frequently. With the coffee shop Pidge currently worked at being only a short trip down the road from the bakery Allura slowly became something of a regular customer. At this point Pidge was certain that Allura was attempting to test every individual type of tea the cafe stocked. Not that she was complaining about the regular visits, it was nice seeing a familiar face amongst the lunch time rush, or as the cafe was just starting to quieten down. Gave her a chance to take a breather, take a step out of the customer service role even if it was only for a few minutes.
It didn't seem to take long for Allura to take Pidge under her wings. At the moment Pidge was the only girl friend Allura had in the town, and it was with this fact that she managed to convince Pidge to spend a night out with her. It wasn't something the younger girl would normally do, but with a quick text to Shiro explaining that she would be back late, she figured it wouldn't hurt to partake in some lady bonding.
This was how Pidge found herself, sat in a booth towards the back of the only decent joint in town, sipping furiously at some bright pink alcoholic beverage.
“You might want to slow down,” Allura says, accompanied by a giggle which sounded something akin to the tinkle of bells, “Besides, I've been wanting to ask you something.”
“Ask away,” Pidge replies with slight reluctance.
“Where'd the name Pidge come from?”
Oh, that's not so bad.
“You know how when you're younger your parents have a sort of pet name for you?” Pidge asks.
Allura nods, taking a sip of her own brightly coloured beverage.
“My father called me his little princess,” Allura smiles.
“Yeah, well my parents called me pigeon,” Pidge explains, taking a long slurp through her comically swirly straw.
Allura raises an eyebrow at her, a gesture for her to explain further.
“Apparently as a baby I cooed a lot,” Pidge sighs, really wishing this alcohol would start taking effect sooner rather than later, “When I wasn't screaming or shitting myself then chances are I was cooing. The name kind of stuck after that - mostly because Matt wouldn't let it go. He still calls me 'his little pigeon' even at this age.”
“Matt's your brother, right?” Allura inquires, earning a nod from the younger girl, “I've also heard Shiro talk about him. He's not in town anymore?”
Pidge nods in confirmation.
“He left about a month after the bakery shut down in order to start training as an apprentice chocolatier. It's what he always wanted to do so I'm happy for him. He also sends us monthly chocolate care packages so I'm not exactly complaining.”
“Sounds like you get on really well,” Allura says with a soft smile.
It surprises Pidge that she seems genuinely interested in getting to know her, but then again the only people she ever hangs out with are Shiro and Matt – and occasionally Hunk – who know pretty much everything about her already. She guesses it's only normal for Allura to be asking lots of questions, especially as she's a potential future employee of hers.
“What about your parents?” Allura asks, stirring her drink absent-mindedly with her little cocktail umbrella, “What are they up to?”
She's got her chin rested on her knuckles with her eyes and full attention focused on Pidge. It's slightly unnerving but Pidge knows she'll have to get used to it if she's going to work for her.
“Mom and dad?” Pidge says even though it's obvious that's what Allura is asking, “They're in Olkarion at the moment. Not quite old enough to retire yet so they're running local baking workshops. It's enough to get them by. According to mom, dad's got a real knack for teaching. I already knew that, though. Good old pops taught me everything I know.”
“I'm glad they're well,” Allura hums, before finishing off the remainder of her drink.
Pidge hadn't even realised she's finished her own drink until she went to take another sip through the straw only to find it empty. She gave a look of betrayal to the glass before tipping it forward and looking over at Allura.
“Refill?”
“Oh,” Allura examines her own glass, thumb running over the lipstick stain she left on the side of it, “I really shouldn't.”
“You got work tomorrow or something?” Pidge asks with a raise of her eyebrow and a devilish smirk.
Allura meets her gaze head on. She looks unsure for a few second before returning the smirk and tipping forward her own glass to clink it on Pidge's.
“You're a bad influence,” Allura states as she rises from her seat with a sigh, “But I guess I should live a little.”
Pidge can't help but chuckle deviously as Allura straightens out her skirt.
“I'll get you a different drink this time,” Allura tells her as she moves to head over to the bar, “Open you up to a world other than beer and vodka.”
“I was raised with boys! I can't help it!” Pidge calls after her, snickering quietly to herself.
She realises the first drink must be starting to kick in about now. That logic explains the warmth in her cheeks and the giddy feeling in her chest.
Pulling out her phone, Pidge takes note of the time. It's only half-ten, not too late but not too early. She also takes notes of the replies she's received from Shiro. The first is a simple confirmation that he got her message. The second is a warning not to drink too much or stay out too late. And the third is him telling her to text him if she wants him to come pick her up at any point. She rolls her eyes at that one. Shiro can be such a dad at times.
Pidge slips her phone back into the pocket of her jeans as Allura slides two slim glasses, garnished with lime and mint, onto the table before her. Taking a cautionary sip of the new drink, Pidge deems it worthy of being in the presence of her tastebuds and takes another, larger, sip.
“A congratulations is in order,” Allura says, raising her glass.
Ever so slightly confused, Pidge mirrors Allura's movement.
“Who are we congratulating?” she asks, eyebrows furrowed.
“You surely don't think I'd spend so much time with someone whose job application I plan to reject,” Allura simply replies, before lifting her glass to her lips and taking a delicate little drink.
Pidge eyes go wide and she can feel the smile stretching out across her face.
“For real!?” she gasps, leaning forward in her seat.
“If anything you're overqualified to work for me, Pidge,” Allura says, placing her glass back down onto the table and reaching a hand over to place atop of Pidge's, “I look forward to working with you.”
“Me too,” Pidge feels like she's about to explode from excitement.
She can't wait to get home and tell Shiro. She can't wait to call Matt and tell him the good news as well. It almost feels like she's dreaming it's seems so unreal.
“Am I the first person you've hired?” Pidge inquires, “I mean other than Coran, but he doesn't really count. Has anyone else applied?”
Allura giggles at Pidge's enthusiasm, reaching a hand up to cover her mouth.
“I really shouldn't be telling you,” Allura tattles from behind her palm, “But yes, you're the first person whose application I've accepted. You were the first to apply as well!”
“Well you weren't exactly advertising any jobs when I applied,” Pidge grins.
“Well I'm glad you did,” Allura admits, a red flush to her cheeks, “It's reassuring to have someone as experienced as you on my team.”
The atmosphere is warm and easygoing between them as they finish their drinks. Allura insists on paying the tab and Pidge is too high on both the alcohol and excitement of getting the job that she doesn't attempt to argue over it. Together they stumble out of the bar, leaning on each other for support and giggling merrily.
Pidge escorts Allura to the door of her flat, located above the bakery building. She leaves Allura with the assurance that she's navigated the streets of Arus her whole life, and that she'll make it home safely. Which Pidge does of course, she's knows these streets like the back of her hand.
She fumbles with her keys in the door to her apartment building multiples times before it opens with a click. Luckily she doesn't have to try using the keys a second time as the door to the apartment is unlocked and the sound of some infomercial on the TV echoes around the flat. It's a telltale giveaway that Shiro has been waiting up for her, a fact which makes her heart ache.
She finds him asleep on the couch, phone clutched in his hand. As quietly as possible in her tipsy state, she tiptoes over to the television and switches it off before proceeding to find a blanket to throw over her room-mate.
Shiro grumbles, and shifts slightly as Pidge lays the blanket out over him. Up close she traces the curves of his face with her eyes. His stubble is almost thick enough to be considered a beard by now. It's never a good sign when Shiro starts going full beard mode. It means he's in a slump. She wishes he would talk to her about it, but she knows he won't. He wouldn't want to worry her. Even if it did mean bottling up all his feelings.
With a soft sigh, she leans forward to plant a soft kiss to his temple.
“Night, Shiro,” she whispers under her breath as she leaves the room.