The Best Night Ever (and Other Cliched Titles)
Not really any shipping, but if you want to read it that way you could. Under a cut for length.
“Who decided that holding a prom at the Garrison was a good idea?” Keith wondered, nodding to the flyer on the wall behind their table. “Like…a bunch of military teenagers trying to dance? Who came up with that?”
“And where did we get the funding?” Hunk demanded. “They can’t even give us air conditioning half the year, but they can somehow manage to afford one of the fanciest events that most schools ever have?”
Lance snorted, poking at what might have been Jell-O and watching it jiggle under his spoon. “Bet they won’t even get a DJ. It’ll just be Iverson in shades.”
Keith and Hunk snorted and resumed their eating, leaving Lance to glance over at Pidge, who was being suspiciously quiet. “Pidge? What’s up? This seems like the exact thing you’d be making fun of with us.”
Pidge glanced up from her sandwich (at least, it resembled a sandwich). “Hmm? Oh. Sorry. Must have zoned out. Yeah, a prom does seem…really stupid.”
Hunk and Keith instantly looked up at her, both of them with silverware halfway to their mouths. Ever since returning from space, the group had been very in sync with one another, often being praised as the best functioning team at the academy, so they could tell when something was going on with each other. “What’s wrong?” Hunk asked.
Pidge hesitated, poking at her Jell-O with her finger and frowning. “I mean…it’s your guys’ last year here. I’d think you would want to go to something like this.”
Lance rolled his eyes. “No way. We’ve already been to space. I don’t think anything titled “Greatest Night Ever” could top that.”
Hunk and Keith murmured their agreement, still watching Pidge, and the girl managed a smile. “You’re probably not wrong,” she admitted with a chuckle.
There was a long pause, and then Pidge stood up so quickly that she knocked her elbow into Lance. “I forgot to finish the homework for Peterson’s class. I’ll see you guys later.”
She picked up her tray and bolted, saluting the guard on the way out and leaving the three sitting with their jaws dropped. “What was that about?” Keith wondered.
“We didn’t have homework for Peterson last night,” Hunk noted.
Lance, rubbing his arm with a frown, glanced to the prom flyer and then back to where Pidge had left. “Something’s wrong,” he murmured. “Hunk?”
“I’m on it.”
“Okay, so I read Pidge’s diary-”
“You have got to stop doing that.”
“-AND she really wants to go to this prom. Fancy dress, shoes, hair, and everything.”
Lance and Keith glanced at one another and then leaned forwards on Lance’s bed in matching poses, legs criss crossed and elbows on their knees. “She huh?” they chorused.