Episode 7

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Keith stood up with a little grunt and leaned backwards a bit to stretch
the kink out of his spine. It gave a nice pop and he smiled for it as he patted the dirt off his jeans. It was starting to get hot again. Not yet the boil of summer but spring had dotted the meadow in wildflowers and the afternoon sun threatened to burn Pidge's skin if she dared venture out of the big oak's shade, even with her oversized sun hat for extra protection. So she stood at the edge of the dappled light pointing to garden rows and little seedlings, telling Lance what to put where and probably making it more complicated than it needed to be. Just to fuck with him. Keith couldn't help a smile when she glanced over her shoulder to toss a little wink at him after making Lance throw up his hands with a frustrated sound. She was beautiful under that floppy hat. Even in rolled up overalls she still held his attention. A perfect paradox of tiny but fierce. Savage but sweet. Ordered but still wild. She never ceased to amaze him.

"Oh, come on. Hello~" Lance huffed loud enough to get through Keith's thoughts this time. "Are you gonna help me with this row or just stand there ogling the Pigeon all day?"

Keith blinked a few times to come back to reality then shot Lance a slightly pouty glare. "I'm not ogling."

"Yeah." Lance drawled out the word then swiveled his head. "I know ogling when I see it. And that, my good sir. Is ogling."

"Oh, you're an expert now?" Keith arched a brow. "Cuz I'm pretty sure you think half the women you meet are checking you out and I'm sorry to inform you - but they're not."

Lance's eyes went wide and he reeled back with a dramatic gasp, slapping a hand to his chest as if hit. "You wound me." Keith just rolled his eyes.

"Statistically speaking-" Pidge started to throw in some numbers but Lance cut her off.

"Don't you gang up on me with your maths. It's bad enough he always takes your side."

"He does not always take my side." Pidge put her hands on her hips with a huff for the notion. Then she quirked an eyebrow at Keith and nearly challenged. "Am I right, babe." It wasn't really a question.

Keith just gave her a soft smile and little nod as he gently pulled the shoulder strap of her overalls back up then murmured a quiet, "Always."

Lance gagged. "You two are disgusting. And why am I the one doing all the work here?" He threw up his hands at the half planted garden around them.

"Keith did two rows." Pidge waved at the neat rows of planted corn Keith had put in while she toyed with Lance. "And you've been squatting on our couch for almost a month. You owe us a rent's worth of labor. Consider it indentured servitude."

"Uuh. . ." Lance raised his brows in near offense. "You mean slavery?"

"Course not. That's illegal." The Pidge waved him off with a huff then leveled a pointed stare. "If you don't like the work we offer you could always just get a real job. Like an adult."

Lance blinked, missed a beat, then nearly stomped a foot. "I've been looking for gigs!"

"That's not a real job." Pidge deadpanned.

Lance gasped, "Tell that to Beyoncé."

"Are you Beyoncé?" Pidge put her hands on her hips again for the challenge and Lance turned a questioning stare on Keith but his phone rang as if to save him from that trap. Lance huffed a frustrated sound and Pidge just grinned as Keith answered the call with a grunt that might be considered a form of greeting in some cultures.

"Hey, Keith." Hunk's smiling voice replied after just a brief pause. "You actually answered this time. Getting better, Buddy." He was used to Keith's lack of phone etiquette by now so didn't wait for a response to that either. "You on your day off?"

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