The Stars Between -- (VLD)

[3] Blue's a she, not an it, you uncultured swine

Lance sat at what he guessed was the base's kitchen table. If aliens had a concept of kitchens. Then again, Alteans did, so what was stopping other species?

It was long, and he assumed so it was able to sit everybody on board with a few places leftover. Probably for meetings more than meals. Someone always had to be on duty, so it was rare that everyone sat down at the same time. Still, the size of the table reminded him of home, and how crowded it became when the whole family was together for a celebration.

Matt was standing at the kitchen bench, a few different jars of various substances surrounding him as he squinted at what looked like a handwritten recipe. As if Matt could sense his gaze, looked and smiled. He grabbed the plate and moved around the bench, sliding into the seat opposite Lance. Sitting on it was something that looked vaguely like the alien equivalent of a sandwich. There was definitely some sort of grainy looking slab folded in half, holding a green substance in between the sides. As close to a sandwich as you could get.

Lance suddenly was filled with longing for Hunk's cooking. Not that he wasn't grateful for what Matt had done for him, he just missed the big guy's talent.

"Here, I've been trying to recreate a few Earth things with space ingredients," he said, setting the plate down in front of Lance. "It's not much, but you need to eat."

Lance was wary for a few moments, but then his growling stomach reminded him how long it had been since he had last eaten. He gave a mental shrug and dove in, letting the flavour fill his mouth.

He didn't hold back a smile when he recognised the taste. Of course that was the first thing Matt tried to make. That right there was space peanut butter. Sure, it wasn't perfect, but it was recognisable, and that was enough.

"So uh... what do you think?" Matt said, again squinting at his recipe. "I'm not sure what it is, but it's edible and umm... somehow tastes like that? I mean, this recipe already existed, I just had to translate it."

Lance took another bite.

"Little bit too much of whatever you're using for peanuts." Lance decided, face scrunched in concentration.

"Ah, thank you."

He swallowed his mouthful before replying, "No problem, sir."

"Matt," he shook his head, though traces of a smile glimmered in his eyes. "I'm just Matt."

"Uh, sure si-- Matt."

"Lance, I don't have a rank here. Technically, as a Paladin of Voltron, you outrank me. I'm just a resistance fighter."

"Who commands an entire ship? Is there a fleet I don't know about?"

Matt grinned. "Nope, this is all this faction has. And no, I'm not in charge."

"Well, then why was it you that...?"

"I was sitting around being useless. Nobody else could get on the comms."

More than he would have liked, Lance related to what Matt said. He forced himself to chuckle lightly, leaning back in his seat and appearing relaxed.

"So..." he drawled, looking to Matt. "What do you wanna know?"

"Tell me about Katie," he replied immediately. "Is she okay?"

Lance took a deep breath and began to explain. He started, as one does, from the beginning. Matt laughed a little at what his little sister had managed to accomplish right under the nose of the Garrison. Lance tried to include everything he could remember, including Pidge's strange habit of turning enemy robots into pets. Matt found this quite amusing, smiling as Lance recounted the tale of Rover.