Phone Tag (Shidge/Klance)

Chapter 3

Coran's punishment of choice: making the troublemakers sit next to one another. It wasn't all that different than a time-out—save for one exception.

"So, just how long do I have to sit like this?" Lance lifted up his hand—and a gloved hand with it. "Keith's hand is sweaty."

"Speak for yourself, Lance," Keith grumbled. "Come on, Coran, we're not kids. Making us hold hands? This is embarrassing."

"This? Embarrassing?" Coran scoffed. "Why, it's not embarrassing until I pull up the office blinds! Which it appears I've forgotten to do." He started for the blinds.

Lance and Keith locked wide, horrified eyes.

"Coran, have mercy on me!" Lance pleaded. If his hand wasn't holding Keith's, he would've been on the floor groveling.

Keith rolled his eyes and scowled. Pathetic. That's what Lance was being. That, and a little amusing. Only a little. His nose twitched. "Is that... food I smell?"

"Why, yes!" Coran exclaimed. He was practically singing. "My casserole. A family recipe, handed down from my great-aunt's great-grandfather. It's made from-"

"Sorry I'm late!" Katie bounded into the meeting room. She set the crinkled paper bag on the table. "I brought food for everyone."

Coran's lower lip jutted out into a pout. "But I made my famous casserole."

"More like infamous casserole," Lance muttered, quiet enough for Coran not to hear. Indeed, Coran's casserole was infamous. Last time he'd made it, the few who were brave enough to take a bite ended up going home with upset stomachs. No one had the heart to tell him how horrible his food was.

"These muffins can be a side to your entree," Katie said. Hopefully it would be enough of a compromise. An unhappy Coran meant more misery to the rest of the team. Coran meant well, but sometimes he went overboard.

"Yes, a most delightful idea! Okay, boys, you can let go now."

So they did. Lance slid his hand down the front of his t-shirt, as if he was wiping off toxic sludge.

Since somebody had to be the mature one, Keith knew it'd have to be him. He flashed Katie a grateful smile. "Thanks for the side dishes, Carrier Pidgeon."

"Real mature, Red Rover." Katie dug her cookie out of the bag. "I'll let you and Lancelot fight over the rest. So what exactly happened while I was supposed to be off the clock?" Her golden eyes glowered venomously at all three men in the room.

"Yes, boys, what happened?" All four heads turned to the source of the sultry voice: a tall, ebony-skinned, stunning goddess with an icy gaze.

"Allura!"

Lance piped up first. He pointed an accusatory finger at the guy sitting across from him. "I knew it, Keith. You totally called her over. Nark."

"Sure." Keith blew his bangs away from his face. "If that makes you feel better, yeah, I totally summoned Allura."

"Or maybe you boys—" (Katie coughed, earning her an apologetic smile from Allura.) "Sorry, Pidge. You guys forgot that Coran is my adoptive father who also happens to work at the business I run? There isn't anything that gets past my ears. So, what happened?"

Katie grinned. "Allura, didn't you just say nothing gets past your ears? If that were truly the case, why have them rehash their story?"

Allura's ears (unsurprisingly) grew red at the tips. "Pidge, I say this with love: please shut up."

Lance looked as though he was considering throwing a pick up line Allura's way, but knew better than to do that. One sexual harassment complaint was one too many. "It all started when some moron named Keith agreed to a bet with me and lost."