Phone Tag (Shidge/Klance)

Chapter 8

He did it. He'd actually done it. Survived an entire evening talking to someone whose appearance had triggered his PTSD. Even knowing it might happen again, Shiro wanted to see her again. And again and again.

Shiro cradled his phone next to his ear, eager to update Pidge on everything. "Hello, this is Lancelot at Altea Tech. How may I help you?"

"It's Takashi."

Judging by the shout of, "Pidge, it's your boyfriend" followed by an irritated "fuck off," Lancelot must've forgotten to put him on hold. Shiro tried to bit back a laugh. Emphasis on tried.

Pidge's greeting was slower than usual, adding an extra beat to the "O" in "Hello." She yawned loudly. "Sorry."

"No need. Long night at work?"

Another yawn. "Wasn't working last night. I worked most of the day. I got off around five o'clock or so to visit a friend. How're you?"

He was somewhere between "starved for human contact outside of work" and "on cloud nine." He settled on a "Better than I've been over the last month."

"You sound like it." Pidge sipped on something—probably coffee if she was so tired. "Why's that?"

"You were right. I needed to stop avoiding the past. I've started picking at an old wound. And because of that, I met someone."

"Met someone?" Pidge didn't sound tired anymore—now she sounded alert. Curious. Hungry for more details.

"She's really smart. Like... I can't even begin to explain to you how smart. I couldn't do her any justice. A hardworking girl, too. Apparently she takes her co-workers' shifts, which are ridiculously late. And if you say the wrong thing, she'll never let you forget it. Sarcastic and smart as a whip."

On the other end of the line, Katie fanned her heated face. So far, she fit the description. If he kept going like this, she was going to have pit stains. Even extra-strength men's deodorant had its limits. Just get to the point. "Is that all?" she inquired, feigning indifference.

Apparently that wasn't all. "And... she's beautiful." He rambled on, but she'd already zoned out.

Well, that settled it. He wasn't talking about her. If Takashi ever saw her, he wouldn't call her beautiful. She wasn't an optimist—a realist, if anything. No guy at work was interested in her unless she was all dolled up. But that wasn't her. That girl Shiro saw last night? Not her. Takashi didn't even know what she looked like. "She sounds great, Takashi."

"Pidge, you alright?"

Great. Just great. Takashi was a sensitive guy who could actually pick up on subtle tone shifts. The opposite of Lance. Katie wanted to tell him no, she wasn't alright. She was all wrong. Wrong about getting involved with him. Wrong about not getting attached. Wrong about her feelings. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

"I'm just really tired, okay?"

"And she's beautiful. But she doesn't seem to see it. I'd like to get to know her a bit better, so we can both be at ease around one another."

Pidge hadn't spoken. "Pidge, you alright?" He already knew she wasn't okay. Pidge would've commented at some point, cutting him short: "Okay, okay, I get it."

But no. She just told him she was tired.

"I'll let you go and get some rest. Talk to you later?"

Pidge hung up wordlessly.

"Need another cup of coffee? It's my special brew."

Katie held out her mug (it had once been Matt's), eyes glued to the screen before her.

Coran's jaw dropped—she actually was going to drink his coffee? Wait just a tick. She had to be sick. "Are you feeling alright? You seem a little green around the gills."

She heaved a sigh and shrugged. She couldn't even gather the strength to tell Coran to leave her alone. Talk about pathetic.

"Believe it or not, I've seen plenty of heartbreak in my life," Coran said as he refilled her mug.

If Katie was a dog, her ears would've perked up, eager to hear more.

Coran returned the hot drink to Katie. Her hands curled up around the cup. In a feat that Keith and Lance would declare one of the bravest things to occur in the IT Department, Katie took a sip.

It was the vilest, foulest drink she'd ever tasted. If anyone could make coffee taste more like filthy dishwater and mold, it was obviously Coran. "Holy crow, Coran. What on earth did you do to this stuff?"

Katie's snappy tone fell on deaf ears. Rather, ears unable to detect any sarcasm. Coran began to ramble and run off a list of ingredients. He came to an abrupt pause. "But I'm sure my coffee hurts less than a broken heart."

She forced herself to finish it, gagging as it trickled down her throat. "It's worse. Much worse."

"No." Hunk kept his eyes on the task at hand: kneading dough. It was wiser than looking at Shiro's begging puppy-dog eyes. "I am not setting you guys up. If you want to ask her out, you do it yourself."

Challenged accepted. "Okay. What sort of stuff does she like?"

Hunk let out an exasperated breath. "Dude, I just don't know if you're ready for that yet." Shiro's pale, horrified expression when he first saw Katie flashed through his mind. He still wasn't entirely sure why Katie (dressed in her usual attire) set Shiro off like that. But he had one possibility in mind. And if his hunch was right, Katie was going to be heartbroken or hurt. "And I don't know if Katie is, either."

Shiro gritted his teeth. He hated to admit it, but Hunk was right. Eventually, he was going to see Katie in cargo pants and oversized shirts. He was going to have to take it slow. Progress to a point where Katie could look more like... Shiro blocked the name from popping up. So that Katie could look more like herself.

He had a long road ahead of him. It wasn't going to be an easy journey. But it was going to be a worthwhile one.

"Fine. I won't ask her out." Not yet, anyways. "But I still need to get used to her." That Hunk couldn't deny.

"Tomorrow."

"What?"

"She's coming in tomorrow." Hunk filled Shiro in on Katie's weekly visits with Rover. "Hopefully Rover likes you." If he didn't, Shiro would have to give up on Katie. And the odds were in Rover's favor—not Shiro's.

"Why wouldn't he?"

Hunk chuckled. "Let's just say he's very protective of Katie."