PIDGE ONE SHOTS‼️

UNCHARTED TERRITORY

The soft hum of machinery filled the room as you leaned against the sleek metallic wall of Pidge's workshop. It was late, long after the rest of the team had turned in for the night, but this had become something of a routine. While the others slept, you and Pidge often found yourselves here—lost in conversation, or more often than not, watching her get absorbed in some new project. The air smelled faintly of oil and metal, the scent you had come to associate with Pidge.

Tonight, though, something was different. Pidge was unusually quiet, even as she tinkered with her latest invention, a small device you couldn't identify but knew was brilliant. You could see the tension in her shoulders, her brow furrowed in concentration, but there was something else. Her usual playful commentary was absent.

"So," you said, trying to lighten the mood, "what kind of space magic are you cooking up this time?"

Pidge didn't answer right away. Instead, she paused, her hands stilling over the mess of wires and components scattered on her workbench. She let out a small, barely audible sigh before turning to face you, her green eyes catching the dim light of the room. There was something in her expression you couldn't quite place—nervousness, maybe?

"It's... a proximity sensor," she said, her voice quieter than usual. "I'm trying to improve its accuracy for, well, the missions. I figure if we can detect movement in real-time across multiple dimensions of space—" She trailed off, her words dying as quickly as they started, and you couldn't help but notice how she fidgeted with the edge of her jacket.

"Right," you said, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds like something only a genius like you could pull off. But... are you okay? You seem a little off tonight."

Pidge froze for a moment, her eyes darting away from you, focusing on anything but your face. The silence that followed made the usually comforting hum of her equipment feel louder, more oppressive. Your stomach twisted slightly, a nervous knot forming as you watched her visibly struggle to find the right words.

"I, uh..." Pidge started, then stopped, running a hand through her messy brown hair. Her fingers lingered there for a second, as if trying to pull something out of herself. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you. But I... I'm not really good at this kind of thing."

The knot in your stomach tightened. Pidge, the girl who could hack into alien systems and outwit enemies twice her size, was rarely this unsure. You had a feeling you knew where this conversation was heading, but you didn't dare say anything, not yet. Not when she was so clearly struggling to get the words out.

You gave her a soft smile, hoping to ease whatever storm was brewing inside her. "You can talk to me about anything, Pidge. You know that, right?"

Her eyes flickered up to meet yours for the briefest of moments before she looked away again, biting her lip. She took a deep breath, then another. You watched as she clenched her fists at her sides, her whole body tensing as if she were preparing for battle.

"I like you," she blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air between you, raw and unfiltered, like they had been waiting to escape for far too long. "More than just... as a friend."

For a heartbeat, the room felt utterly still. Even the soft whir of the machines seemed to fade into the background as you processed what she had just said. Pidge stood frozen, her cheeks flushed a faint pink, her hands trembling slightly as she finally let herself look at you—really look at you, waiting for your response.

You blinked, trying to wrap your mind around the sudden confession. Pidge, the brilliant and fierce girl you had fought beside, laughed with, shared countless late-night conversations with, liked you? As more than a friend?

"Pidge, I—" Your words faltered as you tried to find something coherent to say, but nothing seemed right. Your heart was racing now, a whirlwind of emotions you hadn't fully prepared for.

"I know it's weird," Pidge rushed on, clearly mistaking your hesitation for rejection. "I mean, I'm not exactly the type of person who's good at this. Relationships. Feelings. It's not my thing, you know? I'm usually more comfortable with wires and tech than—than this." She gestured vaguely between the two of you, her eyes wide and full of something that looked like fear. "But you... you're different. You make me feel things I don't know how to deal with."

You took a step closer, your heart swelling as you watched her vulnerability unfold in front of you. Pidge, who was usually so self-assured and independent, was laying it all out for you, raw and honest.

"I didn't know how to tell you," she continued, her voice growing more urgent. "I was scared, I guess. That it'd mess things up. That you wouldn't feel the same way. Or that maybe you'd think I was just some weird nerd who doesn't know what she's doing."

Her words tugged at something deep inside you, and you couldn't stay silent any longer. "Pidge, stop," you said softly, taking another step forward. "You're not weird, and you're definitely not just some nerd."

Her breath hitched slightly, and for a moment, she seemed to hold herself even tighter, bracing for whatever came next.

"I... I feel the same way," you admitted, your voice quiet but steady. "I've liked you for a while now. I just didn't know if you felt the same, or if you even thought about stuff like that."

Pidge blinked, her lips parting in surprise. "You... you do?"

You smiled gently, reaching out to take one of her hands, her fingers still trembling slightly as they met yours. "Of course I do. I've just been waiting for the right moment to say something."

For the first time that night, Pidge's shoulders relaxed, the tension melting away as she let out a breath she'd been holding for far too long. Her hand tightened around yours, the warmth of her touch grounding both of you in the moment.

"So, what now?" she asked, her voice small but hopeful, her eyes searching yours for reassurance.

You stepped even closer, so close now that you could see the faint freckles dusting her cheeks, the way her eyes reflected the dim glow of the room. "Well, now we take things one step at a time," you said, squeezing her hand. "We figure it out together, just like we always do."

A soft smile tugged at her lips, her eyes brightening with that familiar spark of determination. "Together, huh?"

"Always."

For a long moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, standing there in the dimly lit workshop, your hands intertwined as the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted. It was new and uncharted territory, but with Pidge by your side, you knew it was exactly where you wanted to be.

And for the first time that night, Pidge smiled—really smiled, wide and brilliant, as if the uncertainty and fear that had clouded her mind were finally gone. You returned the smile, knowing that whatever came next, you'd face it together.