It started with random notes. They were relatively innocuous at first; usually suggesting potential modifications to the craft and sometimes, pointing out minor errors in her programming. Eventually, they progressed to praise. Some even complimenting her newest modification or even a "I liked the umbrella you brought to work today" which was the oddest one of them all and made her wonder who was so afraid of approaching her to pay the harmless compliment upfront.

At first, she had assumed they were from a junior cadet who was too meek to approach her, the assistant director of research for the Garrison. But eventually, it became apparent with the technical terminology used that this person had the know-how of an aerospace engineer or even, a pilot.

It helped narrow down the possible suspects - not to imply that they had committed a terrible deed - and it became increasingly apparent that it couldn't be any of the ground staff as she was on good terms with most of them and they too, had no issues approaching her when needed.

That was when she turned her attention to the pilots.

Nadia, one of the MFE pilots who happened to become a close friend of hers, had suggested that she might have an admirer. It was the mischievous glint in her friend's eyes and the sing-song tone she'd said it with that confirmed to Pidge that it was, in fact, a pilot that was leaving the notes on her desk.

Handwriting analysis was moot and she knew if they were smart enough to become a pilot, they were smart enough to make sure to mask any possible tells. But she attempted cross-referencing the notes with the Garrison's database anyway - a massive misuse of military facilities not to mention a breach in privacy - and found that to be utterly pointless in her investigations.

She ran the potential contenders through her head; Ryan Kinkade; though somewhat reserved, knew how to be tactful in giving her feedback. It could be him. Ina Leifsdottir was the least likely as the girl was the most frank colleague she's ever had and Nadia was simply never born with a filter.

That only left the captain of the squadron - James Griffin.

James was an odd man. He was most vocal when on-duty, fearless and dare she say, charismatic. Nadia herself had admitted harboring a minute crush on him in their early days as cadets but it was quick to go the moment Ryan had asked her out.

But off-duty, the man was almost someone else. Pidge hadn't found the chance to see him in action when the fatigues came off. Instead, she found out through Nadia (who'd wanted to finish the entire Elderflower Maze chapter of Killbot Phantasm XXVII in one sitting) that he loved gaming but unlike her, was disciplined enough to limit playtime to an hour per day.

Through Ina, she found out that in his boyhood days, he'd had a deep love for robots and spent a good portion of his time after school in the Robotics Club and through Ryan, found out that James nearly blew his top at him once for buying the crunchy peanut butter over the smooth by mistake.

For a squad she was the "guy in the chair" for, she realized that she knew very little about James. She was on affable terms with the rest; even having spent time in each of their private quarters when time permitted it. But with James, beyond conversations that were entirely work-related and under very formal settings, her interactions with him were scarce.

A sole mission where she flew with the MFEs to cover for a sick Ryan, was the one time she saw a different side to him. He marvelled at the ease with which she handled the controls, her precise shots and praised her effortless flight maneuvers. It was Ina who had to dryly remind him that she had been at one point, a Paladin that piloted a magical cosmic lion that Earth technology still had nothing on. James only switched off his comms in annoyance.

Once the mission was complete, Pidge found him waiting by the craft, helping her down with a hand. Ina and Nadia peered curiously from their stations, clearly unaccustomed to their captain's hospitality.

"You...fight good," he stammered, giving her an awkward pat to the shoulder. Before she could return the compliment, he marched off. For some reason, Nadia had found the entire ordeal hysterical and fell off her seat from laughing so hard.

So it was with that, Pidge concluded that her mystery critic (and she supposed, admirer) was in fact James Griffin. But as any good scientist, she wanted conclusive, irrefutable evidence.

She stationed Beezer by her workstation, letting the robot do as it pleased, but giving it specific instructions to videotape whoever came by her labs. It was in the middle of lunch did she finally get a notification on her wrist computer, with Beezer streaming footage of a brown-haired man bent over her desk. She couldn't see what he was doing as Beezer was hidden underneath a table, but from the broadness of the shoulders and the fatigues he wore, Pidge knew right away that it was indeed James.

She felt something of a jolt in her heart, but she thought nothing of it. Pidge gave him time to leave before returning to her lab, surprising herself with the excitement she felt in the anticipation of reading his newest note. But her eyes fell on a pretty bouquet of daffodils along with the expected note attached to it.

One day, I promise I will gather the courage to ask you out. Until then, enjoy these flowers. I heard they were your favorite.

Your secret admirer

P.S I hope this isn't creepy. I promise I'm not a serial killer...or a pervert.

Pidge didn't know why her cheeks were warm.

The next time was the most peculiar and Pidge almost wished she wasn't so overeager in figuring out who it was so quickly. She'd be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy the attention, but she knew how much more heightened her excitement would have been if her secret admirer was...well, a secret .

She had been taking a nap on her desk, tuning out the going-ons about her. When she woke, she found a plate of peanut butter cookies and of course, another note.

Heard these were your favorite too. One thing a lot of people don't know about me: I'm a pretty kickass baker. Hope you like them.

As she chewed on one of the cookies, marvelling at how soft and perfectly delectable they were, Pidge wondered why a boy - a man - like James would find her in any way desirable. A man who had women throwing themselves at him; one who had the confident, alpha-male airs about him that women loved and she absolutely despised.

She also wondered why the hell she found his stupid, floppy hair so attractive all of a sudden.

"Y'know, James acts like a douchebag, but he's a real softie," Nadia remarked casually one day. She'd come over for their ritual Saturday game nights and for some reason that day, spent an inordinate amount of time convincing her that James wasn't who he appeared to be.

"Did he put you up to this?" Pidge prodded, squinting as Nadia fumbled over her controls at the suddenness of her question.

"Wh-what? Of course not!" she laughed nervously and slapped her back a little too hard. "But for real though girl, what do you think of him?"

Pidge shoved her control aside and grasped her friend's hoodie, looking into her wide, amber eyes with great frustration. "Why the hell does he want to know?"

Nadia's lips parted for a protest but she sighed in exasperation, dropped her own game control and raised her hands in surrender. "Y'know what? I give up. He's gonna kill me but whatever. Boy's crazy for you. Has been for a while. I dared him to ask you out like, two months ago and he stillhasn't delivered."

"Why?"

Nadia blinked. "Why? Why ? 'Cause you're a grade A, certified hottie, that's why."

Pidge frowned at that, not quite believing it and it didn't take Nadia too long to catch on.

"Oh come on . Surely you know you have this sexy scientist thing going for you, right? I mean, that day you came to work with that messy bun and that skin-tight sweater? Damn girl, I would have left Ryan for you."

Pidge blushed and pushed her friend aside, much to her amusement.

"Also, for the record, it's the glasses that really do it for me. And for him too, probably."

Parties were one thing Pidge knew she would never grow to like. They were as tiresome as they were when she was an adolescent. At least this time, she had alcohol to numb her to the forced cheer and festivities.

A clearly buzzed Nadia crashed breathlessly to her side, laughing as she pulled her into the dance floor. Pidge protested but the weary look Ryan gave her told her that resistance was futile.

"I don't think there's a soul here that isn't gawking at you," Nadia whispered, pulling her into a twirl and back into her arms. Pidge couldn't help the short burst of laughter.

"I'm doing my absolute best to be invisible."

"And I'm telling you, you're failing miserably." Nadia stepped back for a moment and reached up to tousle her too-neat hair and tugged off the cream cardigan she wore over her sleek, strapless cocktail dress that her mother had to wrestle her into.

"H-hey!"

"I'm issuing a challenge. Kiss a man before the New Year."

"What do I get out of this?"

"Uh, dick?" Nadia dodged her elbow with a laugh. "Besides that, I'll do your paperwork for a month."

Pidge raised an eyebrow at that. It was a tempting offer.

"And no, that's not more time for your side projects. It's more time for you to bang your side pieces."

Pidge rolled her eyes.

"C'mon, what's that phrase you used to drop a lot? Old becomes anew?"

"The old gives way to the new," she corrected with a sigh, running a hand through her messy hair.

"Well it's almost the New Year, why not give someone new a try?" Nadia's elbow poked at her side and she winked at her. Her friend's eyes lifted past the top of her head and Pidge turned to follow her gaze.

An awkward-looking James stood off to the side, watching the party go on with a bored gaze and taking slow sips of his drink. He looked far too handsome; the preppy, charcoal sweater he had on molded to his lithe form perfectly as did the dark, tailored slacks that clung to toned legs. The occasional admirer of his would come by, flutter their eyelashes and coyly ask for a dance. He always gave a weak, but no less dazzling smile and politely declined them.

"I bet he's been waiting for a chance to talk to you all night," she whispered to her ear, chuckling as a blush burned her cheeks.

"Hey Griffin," Pidge greeted, a tight smile on her face.

His eyes fell on her and his brows raised. "Dr. Holt," he breathed. She mentally winced at that. Everyone else referred to her as Pidge or Katie but never that. It was something he alone insisted upon. "How are you this evening?"

She didn't know why he was so stiff around her. His "crush" - as Nadia referred to it - on her wasn't a good enough explanation.

"It's going alright," she answered amiably, taking a careful sip of her drink and watching him do the same; albeit, more nervously. "Thanks for the cookies by the way. They were delicious. Oh, and the lovely flowers too."

She smiled as he choked on his drink, coughing and garnering the attention of officers nearby.

Red-faced now, the man ran a hand tiredly through his hair. "I'm glad," he sighed, covering his face in embarrassment. Pidge couldn't help but smile. He looked cute when he wasn't so sure of himself.

"Not to put a damper on the party or anything but, do I... scare you?"

"No!" He answered earnestly, finally looking directly at her now. "I-Um, I just didn't think it would be appropriate to… ask a colleague out."

Pidge tilted her head at that and shrugged. "I don't mind it." With a confidence she knew came entirely from the drink Nadia had shoved into her hands earlier, she stepped closer to him. "Want to dance?"

James blinked down at her, and Pidge really realized then how tall he was. She'd been surrounded by tall people all her life - lived two whole years in space with an entire group that pretty much averaged six feet in height - so it was beyond her why, at this particular moment, she found his imposing frame so attractive.

He gave her a grin a hand lifted.

The music turned slow just as they reached the floor.

"Ten minutes to the countdown people. Grab a pretty partner and get ready to ring in the new year!"

"Oh boy," she mumbled under her breath. James looked down at her curiously and she shook her head. "No, it's nothing. I'm just...surprised how the year just flew by."

"Yeah, it did…" he nodded in understanding, his hands lifted to rest evenly on her waist, the warmth from his fingers bleeding through her thin, green dress. Pidge lifted her arms and slung it over his shoulders. Shoulders, she noted, that felt wonderfully sturdy beneath her fingers.

As they swayed leisurely to the music, James' gaze locked onto hers and Pidge felt her throat go very dry. It was the alcohol, she reasoned. Alcohol made her do very stupid things; like make out with an equally drunk Nadia (which, in hindsight, wasn't so stupid as the girl was a damn good kisser), build an over-engineered robot that did nothing but squirt peanut butter on her toast or worse still, make her confess her crush on Lance.

As the dull ache in her heart - one that she had managed to avoid all year - threatened to return, the confidence she felt that night slowly crumbled and she slipped her arms away from James. She needed to leave.

"Hey," his voice came softly from above her, just as she was about to spiral and tear herself away from him. "What's wrong?" She lifted her gaze and was struck by how his usually-stern gaze had softened.

"Nothing," she mumbled, frustrated with herself for being randomly mopey at the worst possible time. James sighed above her and his other hand on her waist dropped. He waited for her to look up at him before indicating to the balcony towards the corner. She nodded and a hand rested on the small of her back, guiding her to a spot away from prying eyes and loud music.

The hall the Garrison had rented for the party was once a city hall. After the war, it went back to serving its original purpose, but doubled as a function room in the evenings while the city rebuilt itself.

Pidge breathed in the cool night air in relief and sighed heavily as she leaned against the balcony. Thankfully, James picked the one that faced the gardens rather the main road.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he prodded, leaning casually next to her.

"No," she replied primly. It was a party, she wasn't about to cry her heart over someone she's cried enough about. "I don't need to." That was truthful, at least.

James shrugged at that and didn't press it further; for that, she was glad.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "It's just...things have been weird for me this year."

He tilted his head towards her, indicating he was listening.

"I just can't wait to put certain things behind me for good and just...move on."

"That's what the New Year is for," James said as he folded his arms. Her eyes darted to the biceps that strained against the material of his sweater; curse the man and damn his good looks. "New beginnings."

From the distance, a countdown began. James looked over to her, tilting his head towards the hall with a brow raising in question. She shook her head quickly and took a step closer to him.

James' cheeks flushed as her eyes dropped from his eyes to his lips. As a resounding " One! " filled the halls and fireworks set off above them, Pidge tiptoed and pressed her lips to his. He froze against her; but eventually, his arms unfolded an arm pulled her in closer by her waist while the other cradled her head. Pidge melted. His lips slotted perfectly over hers, steadying her over-eager nips with one long, languid kiss made her weak-kneed and warmed her to her core. He was far too good.

"Happy New Year, James" she whispered against his lips, testing his name for the first time.

"Happy New Year... Katie," he grinned, leaning forward to peck her lips again.

The rest of the night was spent cuddled close in their quiet corner of the room. Pidge was surprised to learn that he didn't enjoy parties much like she did and for what felt like hours, they learnt more about each other than they have the entire year they've worked close together.

Her heart was still thumping too quickly since the kiss and, she was sure as well, her cheeks still too pink. If James noticed, he was too polite to mention it. A part of her wondered if something had changed or if this was just all temporary - that once the night ended and the booze wore off, they'd go back to being "Griffin" and "Dr. Holt".

"You're sad again," James noted against her hair. His arm slung comfortably around her bare shoulders, keeping her warm in the frigid winds. She rested her head against his chest, not caring if it was 'too familiar'. It felt amazing to be held by him and she wished she had the nerve to ask if he'd like to come home to her apartment.

"I'm not," she smiled against the soft wool of his sweater. "You can't even see my face."

"You go quiet when you're sad," he began, a hand lifting to stroke through her hair. She couldn't help the soft sigh. "What's on your mind?"

She let his question linger, weighing her thoughts and considered her words carefully. She didn't want to reveal too much - that was never a good strategy and her past showed it.

"Relationships," she answered honestly. "I want to be better at them."

James' fingers stilled and Pidge wondered if she'd been too obvious. She could not have picked more vague phrasing.

"Romantic ones?" he asked carefully, fingers resuming their strokes much to her relief.

"Yeah, I guess," she bit her lip.

"Is this a hint for me to ask you out?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice and Pidge felt the tips of her ears flame.

"Maybe," she huffed and James chuckled. Pidge closed her eyes and buried her face to his broad chest.

"Do you mind waiting?" he asked kindly, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

"I don't want to wait," she mumbled childishly against his sweater.

His chest heaved with a sigh. His fingers tilted her chin upward so her eyes met his. "Well, I'm afraid you have to. Heartbreak doesn't heal that easy."

She blinked at that. Was she that transparent or was he really that observant? Either way, her defense mechanisms had already begun to kick in. She lifted an eyebrow up at him. "Speaking from experience?" she asked dryly.

He surprised her by laughing again. She shoved aside the stray thought of how nice his laughter sounded. But past that, it was hard to imagine someone would break his heart. Pidge always held the impression he'd be the one breaking them. "You don't know the half of it. Maybe I'll tell you the story one day...if you'll tell me yours."

Pidge considered it for a bit and slowly nodded.

His thumb traced against her jaw, his gaze on her sure and gentle. "How about it then? Do we have the first promise of the year?" She leaned unconsciously to the warm hand and whispered a soft 'yes'. He leaned forward and kissed her again. Man, where in the world did the MFEs learn to kiss?

But for the first time in a long while, Pidge felt a surge of hope. Hope for the new horizons that laid out before her - for the new chances at love that availed themselves to her. Whatever it may be, she was ready for the 'new'.

"You owe me fifty, Ronnie."

"Oh shut up Nads."

A/N: So yeah this is transferred over from my Ao3 account haha. I hope you enjoyed this unbeta-ed mess. Do leave your thoughts!