The Gilmore Paladins - "They Shoot Paladins, Don't They?"

Chapter 17

Bii-Boh-Bi, wearing his referee shirt, traveled around the dance floor inspecting the last few dancing. The bleachers were nearly empty with most of the spectators abandoning the end of the competition in favour of sleeping at home in their beds. Keith was one of the few remaining, getting near the end of the book he'd been reading. Rolo was awake again, now just laying beside Keith on the bleachers, staring out into space.

"He's still there," grumbled Lance, giving the Keith the stink eye.

"What?" asked Allura. She'd been enjoying slow dancing with Lance and had started to daydream.

"Keith," spat Lance. "He's still there. I can't believe he's still there."

"Just ignore him," suggested Allura, annoyance creeping into her voice.

"Yeah. You know, this is a dance marathon. You're not supposed to come and sit and watch, you're supposed to dance," Lance ranted. He was sleep deprived. He'd been awake for 24 hours straight. He couldn't hide his annoyance anymore. "He's just trying to bug me, sitting there right in front of me, staring. Jerk."

Rolo sat up and looked at Keith. "I'm bored."

"Okay," said Keith, dropping his book and with the same fluid motion leaning in to kiss Rolo.

"There they go again!" cried Lance, watching them make out. "God, I swear, why can't they just get a room? Or forget a room - get a park bench, or a doorway, or even a strategically placed telephone pole would probably suffice. I mean, boys like Rolo - what is it with them? Don't they see what they look like? I know they have mirrors."

"Hey," said Keith, breaking off the kiss so he could glare at Lance. "You talking about me?"

"No."

"I heard you mention Rolo." Beside him, Rolo was wiping a bit of spit from underneath his lip.

"Rolo isn't you," Lance shot back.

"Rolo concerns me," snapped Keith.

"Rolo concerns me, too - and all men, for that matter." Lance stopped himself just short of making a comment about f**kboys.

"You got a problem here?" asked Keith.

"Nope. Just a little sick of seeing the two of you sitting there. If you're not gonna participate then why don't you just leave?"

"That works for me," said Rolo, going to stand up. "Let's go."

"No," said Keith, grabbing Rolo's hand and pulling him back down to sit, yet never breaking eye contact Lance.

"Why not?" demanded Lance.

"Because I'm not ready to go."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really," said Keith, leaning back and resting his elbows on the bench behind him all cocky. "I'm gonna sit here as long as I like, and I'm gonna do whatever I like, and if you don't like it then just ignore me and pay attention to your girlfriend."

"Sorry, he cannot," snapped Allura, stepping back and throwing off Lance's arms. "I am not his girlfriend anymore."

"What?" gasped Lance, his eyes all big and shiny.

"You know, I tried to ignore this," said Allura through gritted teeth. "I really did, but I do not know what the quiznak I was thinking."

"Allura, what are you talking about?"

"You don't wanna be with me, Lance!" shouted Allura.

"Yes, I do."

"Oh, please! You have been into him since he got to town," bellowed Allura, gesturing to Keith. "And I have spent weeks - months, actually - trying to convince myself that it was not true, that everything was fine between us. But now I know that I was a fool. You are into him and he is into you. And Rolo -" Rolo sat up, hearing his name. "- by the way, you should be listening to this because it is so quiznaking obvious!"

"What's obvious?" asked Lance, his eyes filling with tears. "What did I do?"

"Everyone can see, Lance! Everyone!" shouted Allura, throwing her arms out. "And I am tired, but I am over it, so go ahead, go. Be together. There is nothing standing in your way now, because I am out." Allura turned and stalked out of the gym.

Keith's eyes were wide, starring at Lance, but Lance didn't look at him. He just stood there, frozen with shock.

"But I'm not even gay..." Lance muttered to himself.

"There's a 99.9% chance that in this reality you're bisexual," said Slav as he danced by with Olia. "With a margin of error of 0.1%"

Lance just stood there, feeling crushed. Roused from his sleep by the yelling, Alfor woke up and noticed Lance standing on the dance floor alone.

"I don't see a yellow card." He fumbled for his megaphone and said into it, "I don't see a yellow card. Excuse me, young man. . .whose name I don't remember right now. . ."

Lance walked off the dance floor.

"Ugh, no one listens to me," moaned Alfor.

"I know, honey," sighed Coran.