Clothe and Dagger

by BBirdy

Summary:

Lance's attention was now frozen on her. Her face inches from his he couldn't see anything but the sheet of dark hair, pale shoulders, a glittering red dress, the thigh slit nearly at her hip.

Struggling to keep his jaw from hitting the floor he realized. This woman was human, an actual human woman. Thoughts spinning he watched her pull back.

That low cut top was far past distracting, her lithe figure zipped into a form fitting dress.

Lights flitting across them for a single second Lance could see her face. Pale, violet eyes were black lined, blinking over scarlet lips, a doll face caked in makeup.

The bowed lips curled. "What are you doing here?" Keith hissed through a grit smile.

"Holy quiznack," Lance couldn't breathe, something in him waging a war.

Keith all but snarled.

Lance flinched, watching Keith pull up the skirt to a thigh holster. Its contents were hidden in small tubes.

"What's that?"

Keith raised an eyebrow and pulled out a tube of lipstick.

"Wait, what are you-"

"Hold still."

 

Or Keith is on an undercover mission for the Blade. Lance finds himself very out of sorts about it all.

Chapter 1

In the wings of the thriving night club Pidge and Lance waited. Situated behind a large spot light their hiding place had been carefully chosen.

"Lance," Pidge hissed, grabbing his collar. "For the millionth time, stay still. You're going to get us caught."

"Come on Pidge," Lance whined. "I can't help it. We're finally in a place worth staking out!"

Pidge rolled her eyes, finger pressed to her lips. 

"Guys?" Hunk spoke over the intercom. 

"How's it going?" Shiro responded.

"I'm on break," Hunk said cheerfully. "And I think I've changed their minds on those weird little cookies."

"Hunk," Allura hissed. "Focus."

"Right."

Shiro cleared his throat.

Hunk spoke ever softer, picking up speed, sounds echoing behind him. "Okay, so after break they're going to put me out on the floor. I'll get the bottle into one of the cups and get it to the right guy.”

"General Gorgon," Pidge reminded him. She flipped through the blurry photos they'd managed to get, two galra in full armor, always surrounded by guards, a mix of girls hanging off their arms at all times. 

Lance watched her scroll, gnawing his lip. "And you're sure Kolivan wants this guy dead? Like dead, dead? Isn't this a bit extreme?"

Directly below them in their booth Shiro and Allura exchanged glances. The pair were dressed in the proper club high collar dressings, Allura a vision in pale pink, her disguise of dark violet fur hiding all altean markings. She picked at the edge of the table. 

"I will admit I was apprehensive when the blade first approached us with the mission," she said.

"But the general is close to catching the undercover blade member. They've been undercover too long to lose thier position."

Lance opened his mouth to argue.

"And," Allura pressed, "if this blade member kidnapped the general themselves they'd be caught. They'd lose all the information they've collected already, all the progress that has been made."

"And this General is over trading," Shiro defended. "All we have to do is kidnap the general. The blade will interrogate. They never said they were going to kill him."

"That's the impression I got."

Pidge snorted at Lance. "That's because you're scared of them."

"Am not!" Lance flushed. "Doesn't anyone think it feels a little underhanded for the great Palladians of Voltron?"

"Moral implications later," Shiro tensed. "I think Allura and I have been found out."

"What?" Pidge hissed.

"Two guards in the corner," Shiro moved to stand, face falling into the throbbing dance room lights. Hair slicked back, a thick amount of makeup covering his scar he was unrecognizable. He wore a long cape, fur covered and long enough to hide his false arm. 

"Stay where you are," Pidge snapped. "If we've been made then Hunk has to get out first. Hunk?"

No answer.

"Hunk?" Pidge paused, swearing under her breath. "He must be off break." 

"What do we do?" Lance asked, struggling to keep panic at bay.

"Allura and I can get to him," Shiro continued to peak out from behind his curtain. 

"No," Pidge stopped him. "You two stay where you are. We need you there. Lance, are you ready?"

Lance was on his feet in a second. "Born ready." He brushed the dust of his silky midnight suit, straightening the thin blue tie, running his hand through slicked hair. "How do I look?"

Pidge glanced up behind light blinded glasses. "Annoying as usual."

"Pidge," he whined. 

"Lance," Allura snapped. "We're running out of time. Hunk is going to be out on the floor any second."

Lance grumbled. "Fine, I'm going, I'm going." He crawled out from behind the light, jumping to the floor from the corner, taking a second to look around,  making sure no eyes were on him.

The floor was light, lights throbbing violet and red. Only a few feet from him an alien girl with a curtain of hair to the floor winked at him.

"This is awesome," Lance breathed, a grin crossing his face. 

"Go!" Pidge's voice ordered in his ear.

Regretfully Lance walked around the edge of the dance floor.

There, heading straight from the kitchens, Hunk walked straight with a tray of glasses held in his hands. 

Making a bee line to him Lance grabbed the nearest cup. He paused in front of him, talking out of the corner of his mouth, pretending to sip. "Hunk."

Hunk stopped dead, never looking at him, lowering the tray and offering him another glass. 

"Shiro thinks we've got someone on our tail," Lance set his cup back down. "Back off and get in touch with Shiro and Allura. Pidge is making a new plan."

He took a new glass of a different liquid before walking off. 

Hunk blanched, the color changed near invisible in the strong lights. He nodded,  turning on his heel and heading back.

"Pidge?" Lance whispered. "Hunk knows. What now?" 

He got no answer. 

"Pidge?"

Lance walked aimlessly across the back wall, sipping his drink. There was still no sound.

Not paying attention Lance bumped into a figure, his eyes on the light behind which Pidge hid.

"Sorry," he said quickly, squinting at the new figure.

"No problem," a woman spoke. 

He couldn't quite see her face. His mind still spun. Why didn't he have an exit plan? The thumping music was making it hard to think.

He glanced past the woman, watching Hunk ducking back into the kitchen. 

Good Lance thought, at least he's-

His thoughts stopped dead, a soft hand brushing across his shoulder, down to his chest. 

"What are you doing here all alone?" The woman whispered into his ear. 

All Lance's attention was now frozen on her. Her face inches from his he couldn't see anything but the sheet of dark hair, pale shoulders, a glittering red dress, the thigh slit nearly at her hip. 

Struggling to keep his jaw from hitting the floor he realized. This woman was human, an actual human woman. Thoughts spinning he watched her pull back. 

That low cut top was far past distracting, her lithe figure zipped into a form fitting dress. 

Lights flitting across them for a single second Lance could see her face. Pale, probably Korean, her violet eyes were black lined, lashes long, blinking over scarlet lips, a doll face caked in makeup. 

The bowed lips curled into a devious smile. 

"Come with me," she put an arm through his, fingers brushing the back of his hand. 

"Wh-where are we going?" Lance stuttered, not awake enough to stop himself from being dragged through the crowd. 

She paused near the back wall, pulling him close. "Don't worry about that," she purred. "I just want to talk is all."

"I, I should get back to-" Lance stopped.

The girl stuck out her bottom lip. "Oh, don't be like that. If you were really here with someone they wouldn't let you out of their sight. We wouldn't want anyone to steal you away Lance."

His heart jumped into his throat. "How did you-"

Her perfectly painted nails dug into the arm of his suit. "Come with me."

Lance couldn't speak, pulse too loud in his ears. Casting his eyes around wildly he tried to find any of his teammates. First to the light, then the closed kitchen door, and finally to the curtained off booth he called silently, panic cutting off rationality.

Beside him the girl marched with purpose, heels clicking audibly. 

"Where are we going?"

"Shh," she pushed him against a wall, one arm pinning Lance. Her other hand reached, opening a storeroom closet beside him. "Let's go," she let go, shoving him into the closet, door clicking shut behind them.

Stumbling into a rack of bottles Lance spun around quickly.

The girl leaned against the door, arms crossed. Hair slid over her pale shoulders. She paused, fingering the choker she wore above a pointed collar bone. 

"What the hell are you doing here Lance?" She snarled, all suave persuasion gone. 

"How do you know who I am?" He squared his shoulders. 

"It's," she paused, glancing down at herself. "Oh right."

With a quick snap she pulled off the choker, a mess of wires behind the fabric. 

Her voice dropped several octaves, a man's voice that Lance would know anywhere. "I'll ask again. What the hell are you doing here?"

This time Lance's jaw did hit the floor.  "Keith?"

Suddenly he could see, even in the flickering closet light, the false edges in his costume. Lance saw the odd note in the curves, the place where wig met real hair. 

"Holy quiznack," Lance couldn't breathe, something in him waging a war. 

"Lance," Keith snapped his fingers in his face. "Why are you here?"

The piece in his ear squealed loudly. "Lance!" Pidge yelped. "Lance can you hear me? I had to fill Hunk in. Your line went out. Lance, can you hear me?"

Slapping a hand to his ear Lance winced. "Loud and clear Pidge."

"Pidge?" Keith leaned forward, nearly pressed into him, listening to the earpiece. "You dragged her here too?" 

"Keith?' Pidge asked. "Is that-"

"What are you doing here?" Keith interrupted. "What part of undercover do you not get?"

"The undercover part," Pidge was almost audibly rolling her eyes.

Lance pulled the earpiece out, stepping back from Keith, struggling to find the oxygen in their small storage space. "We didn't know you were here," Lance said quickly.

"And I didnt know the blade were sending babysitters," Keith glared at him.

"We're not here to babysit," Pidge defended. "The blade sent us here to kidnap the general."

"And my four pheebs of undercover work means nothing?" 

"I don't know," Pidge snipped. "They didn't say." 

Lance felt his jaw drop. "Four?" he yelped, though he was readily ignored.

Keith rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Fine. What's the plan?"

"Hunk has been placed in the kitchens. He's got an inhibition potion thing for the drinks. The plan was to get the general drunk and nab 'em once they went outside."

"Won't work," Keith leaned against the wall.

"What?"

"The general has a personal guard. Two inside and one outside."

"Then what do you suggest?" Lance tried to deflect Keith's glare, his insides twisting in unfamiliar ways.

This time Pidge was the one to answer. "Shiro and Allura are down there, hiding in a nearby booth. They can get the guards."

"They can't get them both alone," Keith said. "Have Hunk go to the one by the booth, give him the drink. Then it'll just be the general and the lieutenant. And you'll have to kidnap me too. My standing here is too good to compromise."

"Okay," Pidge agreed.

"I need to be prepared to react."

Pidge wavered. "We don't have any extra ear pieces."

"Take mine," Lance held his out. "I can go back to Pidge, help her out."

"No," Keith shook his head, that sheet of dark hair flicking around his waist. "No. You'll need it in case anything goes wrong. I'll just take you with me."

"What?"

"Sounds good to me," Pidge said. "I'll let the others know the plan."

"Don't tell them it's me," Keith cut in quickly. "I'm in disguise. They won't treat me as a hostile if they know. It'll be easier to get the job done."

"If you say so." Pidge's line cut off. 

"What do you mean you're taking me with you?" Lance sputtered. 

"It'll be suspicious if I vanish for ten minutes for no reason," Keith walked to him, lifting one high heeled foot onto the bucket next to Lance, pulling up the hem of the glittering dress.

"What reason are you going to give them?" Lance could feel his insides squirm. 

"Breathe, would you?" Keith rolled his eyes. "It's not like I'm taking them your severed head."

Lance flinched, watching Keith pull up the skirt to a thigh holster.

Its contents were hidden in small tubes.

"What's that?"

Keith raised an eyebrow and pulled out a tube of lipstick. 

"Wait, what are you-"

"Hold still," Keith wiped his thumb across the thick pigment, then across Lance's mouth.

"Keith!" Lance went to wipe it away. 

Re- applying the color to his lip Keith tucked the tube away, He swung his false curtain of hair over his shoulder, the curls coming undone. 

"Keith," Lance asked again. "What reason are you going to give them?"

"I'm going to tell them you're an old friend from earth."

He loosened Lance's tie, undoing the buttons of his jacket, even untucking one tail of his shirt. Each movement was deftly done, fingers moving without conscious thought. 

On the other hand, Lance couldn't hold still, heart hammering so loud it must have been vibrating across his skin, cheeks gone scarlet. "And what are you doing now?" he yelped, tugging his shirt back down

"Giving the impression we were making out," Keith pressed a very quick kiss under his ear, lipstick clinging to his skin.

"What-Keith!?"

"It's Kira." 

Keith clasped the choker, his voice modulator, back around his neck, pulling Lance out of the closet.

Chapter 2: Chapter Two

 

Keith wove his way through the crowd, back to the booth in the corner. It was genuinely impressive. He managed to find any way though.

And really Lance would have appreciated it if he couldn’t still feel his body vibrating from that tiny kiss. The skin of his neck was burning. How did Keith manage the whole performance without a singe shift in expression?

Lights shifting, neon in the dark club Lance was sure he’d crash into something, someone, at any second only to pull to a half outside a heavy curtained booth. It was only when Keith dropped his hand that Lance managed to wake himself up 

Keith shot him a dark look, warning him to keep him mouth shut, before opening the curtain. Th soft light spilled out to show his simpering smile. 

"Vantock?" Keith crooned. 

Lance peered around Keith, examining the tiny room within. It was deceptively simple for the world outside their curtain. A velvet lined bench ringed a small wooden coffee table, littered with silverware and dishes, most already half eaten.

A woman sat in the furthest corner where the violet light above couldn't break.  What little he could see was unimpressive. A slender creature with short cropped hair and multiple earrings in her pointed ears, she had arms crossed over a silked blue dress, slits up to either knee. 

Keith entirely ignored her, going to an equally slim young man. 

As Keith approached he leaned forward, face falling into sharp relief. He had ears the size of his head. His solid gold eyes slanted near closed as he offered Keith a goofy fanged grin. 

They let this kid become the general? Lance wondered. 

Keith reached back, a hand curling around Lance's tie almost without looking.

"I found a friend," he simpered in that high voice. "Can I keep him?"

The man laughed, holding out a hand. "Anything for my angel."

Keith climbed onto his lap, tucking one foot under his knee. Gently he kissed the galra general. 

Lance stood frozen, insides flipping. A hand brushed his wrist. It took everything in him not to leap sky high. 

Whirling around he met the eyes of the grim looking woman across the table. 

Her slender frame had only been a trick of darkness. She had to have been three heads taller than him, toned muscles hidden under gauzy fabric. 

"And how is it you know our Kira?"

"We, we were friends on earth," Lance said breathlessly. He glanced at Keith, still utterly distracted. 

The woman's knowing grin changed her entire appearance. "I see, 'friends'," she hummed, eying the lipstick across his chin and neck. "In any case, welcome to planet Mervos."

"Nice to be here."

Coming up for air, Keith tried to fix the smudged makeup on his chin, Lancing at lance for only a split second. His blush was well hidden under the layer of paint. 

"Imarr, no interrogating guests." Keith slid down to the bench, tucking himself beside the man he'd just been violently making out with. "Come on Lance," Keith tapped the seat next to him. "Don't hover in the doorway."

Emotions still twisting Lance sat down, stiff spined. He had a mission to complete after all. "Ke-Kira how long have you been here?" Lance asked.

"Only a few pheebs," Keith relaxed, lying his head on Vantock's shoulder.

"It can't have been only that," the man linked their fingers. 

Keith hid his smile behind his hand. 

Lance's insides dropped, every murky part of the mission startlingly clear. Keith was a good actor, but he wasn't that good. The blade didn't have an agent close to being caught, they had a compromised one. 

"Pidge?" Lance hissed.

The earpiece crackled to life instantly. "Both the guards inside are unconscious. Hunk is finding the one outside. Shiro and Allura are ready to go when you-"

"Now."

Leaning forward the woman’s scowl returned. "Who are you speaking to?"

“Lance,” Keith warned, voice dark. 

He didn’t get the chance to say more.

The thick curtain flew open, Shiro dropping his fur lined cape. His metal fist already glowed with energy. 

"General Gorgon-"

Launched across the table in a split second, Imarr landed a solid punch on his jaw, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

Vantock jumped up. "Imarr!" He held his arms wide, hiding Keith behind him. 

"Get Kira and get out of here!" She yelled over the music spilling into their booth.

Through the flashing lights Lance caught Keith's furious glare before he was pulled away. 

Vantock pulled back the curtain behind them, a tunnel in view for a second before they vanished inside. 

"No!" Allura shot past Lance, her skirt torn to her knees. "Lance, they're getting away!" From her belt she pulled a flash grenade. 

"Wait!" Lance launched himself into the tunnel after her, leaving behind the warring Shiro. The corridor was clean, dark, only utility light above their heads. Lance didn’t have time to inspect or even think when Allura pushed his hands over his ears before doing the same, eyes closing.

The crash of the grenade went off only a few feet in front of him. He heard a distant scream, watching their quarry falling over, both unconscious. 

"Allura!" He yelled over the ringing of his  ears. "It's not what you think."

"Go back and help Shiro," she ordered, her hand suddenly on his shoulder. 

Squinting into the blinding darkness, making his split second decision. "And let you carry them both by yourself?"

"How noble of you," she sniffed, watching him crouch over Keith. 

His eyes were heavy lidded, hardly conscious. 

Fear twisted thick and fast. Lance curled his arms under Keith, lifting gently. He could feel the warm dampness of blood under his fingertips. 

Allura grunted behind him, pulling the skinny galra boy up in a fireman's lift. 

"Follow the tunnel," Allura pushed him forward. 

Lance wanted to look down, needing to see Keith was okay. He didn't dare to, not with Allura's eyes burning into the back of his head. 

The dim moonlight began to reach them from the far end of the tunnel. 

"I was going to ask what you meant by the situation not being what I thought," she asked icily. "But I see now what you meant."

"What-" Lance flushed dark red, remembering the mark along his neck. "Oh, no, Allura it's not like that," he stuttered. 

"Is it not?"

"I know hi- her," Lance reached the end of the tunnel. "She's human."

Allura paused, looking down at the near angelic face in the pale moonlight. "An old flame?" Her smile was slight.

"Allura!" He yelped.

"Shh!" She peered out of the tunnel and into the alleyway. Her furrowed brows unlatched and she grinned. "Hunk, Pidge." 

Lance stepped out into the alleyway. 

The general's ship sat at the end of the grimy alleyway, the doors open, the three guards tied up and gagged in the cockpit.

Hunk jumped out, his busboy uniform filthy, a drink spilled over his shoulder. "Allura, Lance," Hunk grinned brightly. "You guys made it out. I heard a crash. The comms stopped working once I got outside and-”

"Where is Pidge?" Allura interrupted, handing her unconscious galra over to Hunk. 

"Here!" Pidge hopped onto the ground, brushing her hands on her pants. "I was getting their ship properly disassembled." She glanced around Lance. "Where's-" 

"Here," Lance cut across her. At the odd glances sent him he spoke quickly. "The general's girl here is an old friend. She helped Pidge and I came up with a plan."

Eyes the size of dinner plates Pidge gaped at the unconscious figure in his arms.

"And Shiro?" Hunk took the limp galra in his arms. 

Lance glanced back at the tunnel, biting his lip. "Coming."

"Get to your lions," Allura pressed the door closed on their tied prisoners. "If we're lucky we might still be able to get a head start."

"Since when have we been lucky?" Pidge asked

"True enough," Lance mumbled, glancing down at the person he carried. 

"Shiro should have been back by now," Allura watched the tunnel intently. "Perhaps I should-"

"Go!" Shiro emerged from the tunnel with a cut across his cheek, cape missing and hair mussed. “Crazy lady is out. The guards are just behind me and they are not happy," He scrambled to his feet, hitting the ground running. 

They didn't waste time. 

Shutting the door of the ship shut Pidge tossed the keys behind her, running back to her lion. 

Lance stopped inside his own only long enough to lay the unconscious Keith on the floor. He only wished he could do anything else. Brushing a hand gently across Keith’s forehead he brushed aside the soft bangs. Those had to be real. Shaking himself he stood and ran to his seat. Within moments they were in the sky. He could see the shots whizzing by but only until they got past cloud cover.

"Guys..." Hunk spoke slow over the comms.

"Don't tell me we're being followed," Shiro cut across him.

"No, no," Hunk started to laugh. "We did it. We got the General."

"And apparently his arm candy," Allura said, still oddly sour.

Lance pursed his lips."I told you it's fine. She won't cause trouble."

Keith would cause worse than trouble when he woke up. He'd raise hell. 

"You know her?" Shiro asked. 

"In a sense."

There was a pause.

"We'll be back at the castle in a few," Shiro pressed his lion faster. "Hunk, you and I will take the General to the holding bay."

"I can call the blade the moment we return," Allura said. 

"Good," Shiro confirmed. "As for the girl-"

"I'll talk to her," Lance volunteered quickly. 

"Of course you will," Hunk muttered.

Pidge's laugh could only be heard for a moment before she cut off her comm line.

It was only because he kept shooting glances at the figure on the floor that Lance noticed as Keith finally began to stir. 

Landing his lion quicker than he had before Lance dropped to his knees. "Keith? Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

With a low groan Keith lifted a hand to his throbbing skull. "What happened?"

"The plan didn't exactly go as planned."

"What else is new?" He sat up slowly. 

"Hold on!" Lance grabbed his shoulder. "Lie down. Allura used a flash bomb. You're hurt. Just take it slow."

Keith surprisingly did as he was told, sitting up only to lean back against the wall of the lion. A quick assessment of himself; head bruised, probably more along his leg where he'd fallen, a shallow cut along his upper arm, scraped joints, but otherwise unscathed.

Rubbing his head slowly he smeared what little painted makeup beyond repair. 

He tugged at the high slit of his dress, fighting a losing battle with the glittering fabric. 

"You look-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Keith snapped. 

"Nice?"

Keith snorted. He couldn't deal with Lance right now. He just wanted to go to sleep. He was halfway to a hangover, nausea bubbling up at the back of his throat.

"Lance. What happened? Hunk was supposed to come to us. Shiro and Allura were supposed to be across the room."

"I didn't hear that," Lance leaned forward in his seat, making a beeline to the castle. "I guess they switched."

"Quiznacking morons," Keith hissed.

Lance glanced back at him. "That's a bit harsh. I mean, we did get the general."

"Then why come after me?" 

"You were with the general."

"No. I was with Vantock."

There was a blade of ice solidifying in Lance's gut. "Yeah... the general."

Keith took a long deep breath. "You think Vantock, the skinny, short unassuming child is the general of an army?" His voice was low, dangerous.

"Um, yeah," Lance squeaked.

Chapter 3: Chapter Three

Keith pushed himself to his feet, white faced with fury. "Did you at least get Imarr?" 

"I don't know," Lance didn't dare meet his furious gaze, feeling the eyes burning the back of his head. "I was getting you out of there. You'd have to ask Shiro."

Lance knew. He knew perfectly well. But he also knew that he did not want to be alone with a pissed off Keith, at least not without protection.

Keith leaned against the control panel of the lion, the curtain of his hair cascading over his shoulder. 

Deep inside his gut Lance felt something twist. This was too weird. 

Going to land Lance settled Blue down. 

"Um, they still don't know you're here," Lance said, still not opening the hatch. 

"I don't care," Keith tapped his foot, the high heel making a soft tap on the metal floor. 

Stuck somewhere between fearing for his life and grim amusement Lance opened the hatch.

Keith marched down the walkway, never wavering, even as the metal slab hit the floor.

Stood by the black lion, Shiro spoke with Allura, both still dressed in evening wear. She removed her earrings as she spoke, grim and quiet. Still despite soot and torn hems, she was still a vision. 

Shiro had removed the furry cape, draping it over his remaining arm. 

Had Keith's anger not swelled in his chest he might have stopped, slowed, considered. It wasn't likely, but he might have. 

The sharp taps of heels had them both looking up. 

Behind Lance stood, too bemused to intervene. 

Shiro stepped before the princess, hands up, smile placating. "Miss. I'm sure this is all confusing and-"

"I thought soldiers could follow orders."

"What?" 

Rolling his eyes Keith ripped off the voice modulator, growling, a flash of something pale yellow in those heavily lined eyes. "Shiro."

Allura peered around his shoulder, jaw hung low. "Keith?"

"I told you two to ignore the one by the booth," the voice modulator gripped in his fist, he pointed a finger, jabbing perfectly painted nails into his chest. "That's the only instruction I gave. A four month long investigation down the drain because you couldn't walk ten feet!"

Mouth still agape Shiro stuttered for an explanation. "I-I-" 

"Keith?" Pidge's yelp was shrill in the ships' docking bay. Hunk looked over her head, face screwed up, trying to find a proper explanation. 

Keith snapped, fingers in Shiro's face. "Answer me!"

His face dropped to a scowl. "Keith. We were closer to-"

"I wanted Hunk to give him a drink. Hunk is his type. I've been interrogating the crew of that bar for ages. If Hunk had-" he ran his hand through his hair, the curtain of black hair swinging over his shoulder. He forced himself to take a long deep breath. "Did you at least get the general?"

"He is tied up and unconscious in black," Shiro said, the information coming like Keith had dragged it out of him. 

With a long deep breath Keith pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "No. This isn't happening. This isn't-" he turned his back to them, crumpling like a stack of cards. 

"Keith!" Lance had an arm under Keith before he could topple. He eased them both to the floor, knelt beside Keith. 

"Must have hit my head harder than I thought," Keith mumbled, closing his eyes, hand pressed against his forehead. "You said it was a flash grenade?"

Allura shifted from foot to foot. 

"So… what's going on?" Hunk cleared his throat, watching the pair crouched on the ground. 

Lance opened his mouth, ready to protest. "Guys, he just passed out-"

"I'm fine," Keith interrupted, speaking before Lance could get his mouth properly around the words. "The boy you just kidnapped, Vantok, is not the general. The skinny kid tied and gagged is the general's younger brother. Imarr, the woman in the booth, has gotten away and probably deeper in hiding."

"No," Allura had to sit down, hand on her mouth. 

Beside her, Shiro's fist landed against the wall. 

Pidge thought her legs had vanished, though she spoke through a stiff tongue. "But, but we have her brother. Isn't that some kind of leverage?"

Keith took a deep breath, free hand closing around his injured arm. Blood squeezed between his fingers. Maybe the cut hadn't been as shallow as he thought. "Imarr doesn't care that much about her brother."

"It's worth a shot."

"We'd need a private code to get into the general's telecoms," Allura said plainly. "Does he have one?"

"He should," Keith sat up, pushing bangs from his face.

Lance felt his heart skip a beat as he watched the boy before him. Keith was a knockout. Even in a torn dress, makeup smeared up the side of his face. The red dress spilled over the cold flooring like a pool of blood. Under rouge he was remarkably pale.

"How do we get it?" Lance asked, eye to eye with him.

"Leave that to me," Keith placed his hands onto the floor, pushing himself upright. 

Lance caught his arm. "What are you doing? You look terrible, you're bleeding and you just passed out. You need sleep and at least a first aid kit," he stammered quickly. What was it about the get up that had every instant demanding he protect?

Brushing him off soundly Keith steadied himself. "I know. That's how I have to look."

"What-" Shiro asked. 

"Shut up," Keith snarled. 

Still shamed, Shiro listened. 

"Put him in an interrogation room," Keith crossed his arm. "Before he wakes up again. I saw him drop before I did, so he's obviously freaking out, or he will be. I need," he rubbed his head, "I need a minute to think up a plan."

Everyone stood, frozen. 

"What?" Keith rounded on Shiro. "Vantock."

"Right," Shiro spun on his heel. Not one to be intimidated, to see his brother as such, was too much to take in. He needed to move, do something to distract. 

The rest seemed incapable of movement. 

Lifting an eyebrow Keith crossed his arms over his chest. "What?" he asked again, far gentler, far more self conscious. 

Hunk spoke before anyone else. "It's just weird to see you like this."  

Keith crossed his arms further over his chest. "It's just a disguise."

Holding up his hands Hunk backed off. "I'm just saying."

Pidge readjusted her glasses, smiling with a poorly hidden touch of mischief. "Yeah, other than the blood, dirt, and general mess, you look lovely."

Nearly rounding on her, Allura had to grab his wrist, forcing him to stop. "Keith."

Running his fingers through his hair, almost on instinct, Keith forced himself to calm. It was odd, to watch the familiar anger melt away. 

Maybe the Blade teaches anger management, Lance mused silently. 

"How can we help with your... interrogation?"

Cutting in before Keith could speak, Lance began to count on his fingers. "How about a proper meal, a nap and a first aid kit? You just blacked out. You were shot down with a flash grenade."

"No," Keith held to Lance's shoulder for balance, readjusting the strap of one tottering high heel. "I told you. He has to see me like this."

Lance gaped. "What? Why?"

Still less than steady Keith pressed his fingers into his temples. "Because he's infatuated with Kira," he bat his eyelashes innocently. "And if he thinks you're going to hurt me he'll tell me any secret he could ever know."

"But we wouldn't-"

"How is he supposed to know?" Keith demanded, hands on his exaggerated hips. "I was sent undercover, Lance. I know what I'm doing."

Shooting Hunk a soft smirk Pidge elbowed his side. "Look at Lance. He's blushing."

"I am not!" Lance whirled around, face positively scarlet. 

Keith rolled his eyes, arms crossed.

Shiro's voice cut  the argument short. "The prisoner is in the, er, interrogation room."

Doing his best not to roll his eyes, Keith gestured to Allura to lead the way. "As for what I'll need to help, it'll be... confusing."

Allura readjusted her own fancy dress, walking beside Keith. While she knew comparisons were entirely unnecessary and frivolous she couldn't help but feel... less than, standing next to this bedazzled version of Keith. Despite the grime, despite his lessening unbalance from her own grenade, he seemed entirely comfortable, even confident in the glamorous outfit. While she... she had changed and taken to her jumpsuit and wound hair quickly and without second thought. 

Shaking her head of musings Allura dropped her shoulders and picked up her pace. No point in comparing. "What do you mean by confusing?"

"Vantock has to think that he's been taken by the enemy, if he doesn't already." Keith reached to his ears and removed the large earrings, clipping the voice modulator back on.

"Why?" Lance interrupted.

Lowering a glare at him Keith continued, voice the lighter woman’s he’d first heard. "Because Vantock is a coward. He was saved from execution by his sister for abandoning his post. He was made her second in command, basically turning him dependent. I was an amusement at best," his voice was flat. 

While Lance caught the change it seemed no else had. "So what are you going to do? Share you're a traitor and threaten him?"

Keith snorted. "Ah yes, because the bedazzled slut you see before you is the picture of authority."

"You're not-"

Waving his concern away Keith followed Allura around a corner, where they stood in front of the one way glass of the makeshift cell. It had once been some kind of laboratory, Allura had told them once, though Keith couldn't remember what for. 

"No, I'm going to have him thinking you're using me as a bargaining chip," Keith flipped the voice modulator back on, facing Lance. "Hit me."

"What?" Lance stuttered.

"Hit me," Keith repeated, wiping his thumb over his still weeping arm and brushing it across his cheek. "Slap me. I'd do it myself but he'll see self inflicted injuries."

Still gaping Lance shook his head. "I can't. Not when you're-"

Shooting him a look Lance could have sworn was grim amusement Keith rolled his eyes. "Fine. This will have to do," he leaned down, ripping the slit of his dress higher and snapping the heel of a single shoe. 

"Wait, wait," Shiro grabbed his arm to keep him steady. "What are you going to tell him?"

Keith stood in front of the door, taking a deep breath. "If I can convince him I'll be in danger he'll give up the private comms line information."

The group behind him hesitated. 

"What?" Keith demanded, the rolling female voice peaking into his own.

Pidge cleared her throat. "You just seem very prepared for this eventuality."

"I just spent the last four months putting together every contingency plan I could," Keith handed her the broken piece of his heel. "I'm getting this information and then I'm being reassigned," he spoke flatly, matter of factly. "This is what I do. I can get into places the other members of the blade can't. This may be the longest yet, but this is not my first rodeo. I know what I'm doing so you, all of you," he pointed around the circle. "Can get those looks off your faces."

Shiro nodded, recovering himself first. "It's just not exactly what I expected when you told me you'd be doing undercover work."

"This isn't a spy movie," Keith sighed. But the corner of his mouth had twitched at the idea. 

"What do you need us to do?" Allura asked, standing beside Shiro. 

Lance looked ready to cut in again. 

As if sensing the impending interruption Keith shot him a look. 

Swallowing Lance furrowed his brows, taking in Keith carefully.

The silent conversation between them lasted only a second but Lance caught enough in his gaze. There was determination, and that glazed look Lance had first seen when Keith sat in Vantock's lap. This interrogation wasn't only for their own benefit. He was trying to protect the skinny glara boy, or else they may have simply turned him over to the blade. How deep did this concern for their enemy go? How lost was Keith? Lance kept himself quiet, only nodding, and turning away. He wasn't going to like what happened next. 

"Good," Keith straightened. "Shiro. You'll intimidate him most. I'll go in. Exactly two minutes later, come get me. Remember no matter what I do it is all an act. I'll scream, I'll fight. It does not matter. You take me by the arms and you drag me out. Do you understand?"

Looking mildly green around the gills Shiro gave his consent.

"Good," Keith took yet another deep breath, punched the open door button and threw himself inside.

Chapter 4: Chapter Four

Door closing behind him, everyone practically pressed themselves up against the glass. 

Inside, crouched half conscious on the floor, the blinking figure of Vantock hopped up. "Kira!" he launched himself forward. Coming into the light of the room it was clear the flash grenade had done as much to him as it had to Keith. There were cuts and scrapes along his clear skin. What had once been his nice suit was covered in dirt. His visible terror amplified as he crouched beside Keith. 

For his part Keith had thrown himself onto the floor, like he had been thrown in. When he lifted his head, there were already tears streaming down his cheeks, dragging the dark remains of his makeup along pale cheeks. "Vantock, are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Knelt on the ground, Vantock gathered him in his arms, holding tight. "No, no, I'm okay. Where are we? How long have we been here?"

His panic was dug into every line of his pale purple face. Pidge leaned back, gnawing at her lip. Turning around she found Lance leaning against the wall. "Lance? What is it?"

His dark expression did not lighten. "Keep watching," he dropped his gaze to his shoes. 

Confused, Pidge did as she was told. For her part, she was simply impressed with the acting skills, perhaps a little overly affected by what had to be fake. Because of course, it had to be fake. 

Right?

Brushing back the dark locks of hair Vantock pressed a firm kiss atop Keith's head. "Kira, talk to me, please."

Taking a shuddering breath Keith lifted his face, whispering only just loud enough to hear. "They're watching. They, they-" he buried his head into his chest, positively trembling.

"They hurt you." It wasn't a question as much as a horrifying realization.

Keith nodded, face still pressed into his shoulder. "They just want information. They said they'll let us go if they get what they want. Don't let them take me."

Outside, Hunk began to lose color. "Guys," he whispered. "I don't like this. What, what's the endgame here?"

"We have to hope Keith has one already in mind," Allura spoke in an only just clipped tone. No one was exactly pleased with the accusations that they had been torturing an innocent girl for information, if it was only a cover story. 

Vantock interrupted any conversation, hiding Keith behind him and directing his angry words to them. He couldn't have been able to see them through the glass in any case. "What do you want from us? We have nothing to do with this awful war! I'm a defector and Kira is-"

Keith caught his arm, pulling him back down. "They want your sister. They want Imarr."

Vantock quickly lost all shred of bravery. Face dropping he shook his head. "I, I don't know where she is. She has a safe house. But I couldn't point any out. She doesn't tell me things, you know that."

Making a great show of biting his lip Keith feigned wiping away tears. "What about the channel? The comm line."

Sinking back to the floor, Vantock glanced backward at the glass. "You know I can't. Imarr is important to the kingdom. She's a general."

Keith began to cry harder, clinging to his arm. "Don't let them take me again," he whispered. 

The terror was so genuine Pidge had to draw herself away, going to stand by Lance. "What's going on? What did you see in that booth?"

Biting the inside of his cheek Lance could only shake his head. It was too impossible. 

Allura cleared her throat, breaking the silence of the onlookers. "It has been two minutes. Should we give him more time? He's almost convinced him?"

Shaking his head, Shiro squared his shoulders. "No. Keith said two minutes. I trust his judgement."

While swallowing his derisive snort Lance finally stepped forward, knuckles white on the edge of the window sill. Looking in he tried to arrange his face into something other than accusatory. 

Headed to the door once more and Shiro waited. With a deep breath it opened. 

The reaction was immediate. 

Inside Vantock shot up, hiding Keith behind him. "No! Don't touch her!"

Clinging to his arm Keith shrank. 

Shiro had to struggle down his immediate feelings of betrayal. He'd never known Keith to be an actor, always wearing whatever bad mood on his sleeve. And now he looked so genuinely terrified of him. 

Setting his jaw, Shiro brushed Vantock aside. It wasn't hard. Thin and already shaking from injuries and fear, Vantock toppled. 

"Stop!" Keith's scream stopped Shiro, if only for a second. Pointedly keeping his eyes away he turned and dragged Keith away, kicking and screaming. He was glad he'd used his robotic arm.

In a too real imitation of complete insanity Keith punched and squirmed. "No! No! Let me go! Leave us alone. Please!" Flailing wildly the screams turned to shrieks before the door shut. 

Keith dropped like a stone, panting for air. 

Approaching slowly Allura laid a hand on his shoulder. The skin was freezing and clammy. 

He slapped her off. 

"Are you okay?"

Wiping at his face he nodded. "I'm fine. Just acting." The words contained no conviction, crackling as he removed the voice modulator, holding it in a single limp hand. 

Glances were exchanged as Keith, still slumped on the ground, forehead pressed against the closed door, positively trembled. 

Hunk's eyes had turned the size of saucers. 

Gesturing dramatically toward Shrio, Allura set her jaw. 

Shiro lifted both arms in surrender, shaking his head. 

Silently sighing, Lance rolled his eyes and knelt next to Keith. He didn't say anything, didn't even touch him, only got close enough to sense.

Keith shifted, dropped his head on Lance's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said finally. "I didn't get the right information. I'll try again. But until then we need to find contingency plans."

Something in Lance's ribcage curdled, though he said nothing, hands still clasped in his lap. 

Taking that as his cue Hunk repeated his question. "What's your endgame here? I mean, this Vantock sees us as the bad guys and you- er Kira and himself as victims. Once we have all the right information what happens? Do we drop him on some planet? Turn him over to the blade?"

Pidge visibly winced at the idea. And Keith shared the sentiments. 

"I don't know," Keith pushed himself back, sitting under his own power and digging his palms into his eyes. "I'd still like to try and send him back to Imarr. But my cover can't be blown. If they find out I- Kira was a traitor they'll take a closer look at any information I could have gleaned and change their processes." 

"What about the bar?" Hunk rubbed his neck. "I mean, if they find out you were involved in the kidnapping won't your cover have already been blown?"

Keith took the edge of the window sill, lifting himself to his feet. "No. As I was taken, all they'll see is a victim. At best they'll have a picture of you all."

"But your gear," Pidge said. "If they got to your things, trying to find you-"

"Won't find it," Keith shook his head. "Loose floorboard for all information sensitive items."

"And what happens if you can't get the information from him?" Allura asked. "If we can't get to the general?"

"I-" Keith started looking helpless. 

Lance threw his arms out, stepping in front of him. "Enough. He's the one doing the interogating. Let him breathe."

A smile playing at the very corner of Keith's mouth he took Lance's wrist. "It's fine."

"It's not!" Lance bristled, anger still directed at the gathered crew. "Keith, you're exhausted, you're still bleeding and you can't do anything else right now."

"I suppose," Keith agreed hesitantly. 

"Sleep, first aid, good meal, then we come back at this whole… thing," he waved.

"As eloquent as always."
"Hey!"

Rolling his eyes Keith planted his hands on his hips. "And, as much as I look like your usual damsel in distress I am perfectly capable in taking care of myself."

Pidge and Hunk exchanged quick grins before chiming in. 

"If you want I'll bring dinner to your room," Hunk offered. 

The growl in his stomach practically echoed off the wall. 

"Ha!" Lance pointed in triumph. 

Keith sighed, turning on his heel and nearly toppling over. He'd forgotten he'd broken a heel off of his shoe. 

Catching his arm Lance smiled innocently. "What was that about not needing help?" 

"I hate you."

Shiro caught them before the group could disperse. "What about Vantock? Should we have some kind of rotating guard to keep an eye on him?"

"I'll have Coran make sure all camera in the room are operational and we can take shifts watching the video. There's no need for a physical guard."

Glancing over his shoulder Keith watched through the glass. He hadn't dared look just after he'd been taken out, resisting every urge to watch him. 

Sat in the corner of the room Vantock had his arms curled around him, tear tracks stiffening on his fuzzy face, pale eyes inspecting every corner of the uninviting bare room. 

Keith bit his tongue before he could suggest getting him a blanket or at least a pillow. 

Thankfully Lance cut in. "Look, I know we're trying to act like the big bads right now, but the guy has still got to eat. Hunk?"

"I can fix him a plate of food goo," Hunk said, glancing between Shiro and Allura. 

Sedition seeming to have come to her Allura agreed. "Perfectly acceptable. Though Shiro should be the one to deliver it."

Keith didn't hear his response, Lance already pulling him down the corridor. 

"We didn't touch your room," Lance pulled on a smile, unspoken accusations still eating away at him. "I think your clothes should still be there too."

"Mm," Keith hummed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Even under the layer of makeup he looked tired and, arm around his waist, Lance could feel how thin he'd gotten. 

"Seriously though," Lance sobered instantly. "Are you okay?"

Shooting him yet another reproachful glance Keith pursed his lip. " Seriously though ," he imitated. "I'm not someone you need to take care of. I've been doing just fine on my own. I'll remind you I was on my own when we met."

Lance pulled a face, removing his arm to walk backwards before him. "Oh yes, perfectly capable."

Wobbling on one working shoe Keith nearly fell over. "Lance!"

Taking his arm again Lance bat his eyelashes innocently. 

"I hate you," Keith repeated. 

Chuckling quietly, they rounded the corner. 

Keith pressed a fist against the lock and the door opened. His room was as empty as he had left it, his few clothes piled in the corner of the cupboards. The only difference seemed to be the thin layer of dust across each surface. 

A groan burst form his chest as Keith dropped atop the mattress, absently reaching for the band around each ankle and tossing the ruined heels across the room. 

Lance laughed, sitting at the corner. "Enjoying yourself?"

With a less than kind gesture Keith pushed himself onto his elbows. 

The look did yet another funny twist in Lance's chest. 

Dirt or no, Keith's heavy lashes blinked up at him, half lidded and circled by shimmering color. The smeared lipstick and left over tear stains did nothing to the striking look. 

"What, um, what inspired this whole-" Lance stumbled over himself, tongue going numb. 

Keith lifted an eyebrow, up on his elbows, removing his earrings. 

"How'd you end up at this job? With this whole look?"

"Long story," Keith admitted. "The short of it being, they sent me in to woo Imar as I am, because she's into 'other species," he made quotations around the phrase. "But she wasn't interested. So when her brother came in the next day I watched. He interacted with every glitzy ditz he could find. There weren't any willing replacements so I got a makeover. Not exactly my first choice but," he shrugged. "I do what I'm told."

"You became a great soldier," Lance soured. 

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

 

Chapter 5: Chapter Five

 

Both avoided glaring at the other. 

Keith reached to remove a clip from his hair, hissing as the drying slice across his arm was pulled. 

Glancing up Lance was on his feet. "Right, first aid."

"There's one under my clothes," Keith sat up slowly, removing pins from his hair one by one. 

"Why?" Lance asked, suspiciously, digging through the pile. True to his word there was a little red box, about the size of a paperback book beneath his pile of black shirts and black pants. 

Keith lifted a brow. 

“Sorry I asked,” Lance returned with the box and something else. 

Keith reached out for his jacket first, rubbing the collar between his fingers. 

Sitting on the end of his bed, Lance waited quietly. “You want me to grab your clothes too?”

“In a sec,” Keith grabbed the first aid next. 

Sure he’d be kicked out at any moment Lance held still. Distantly he thought of jurassic park. The idea of the t-rex in Keith’s glitzy dress had him biting his lip to keep from laughing. 

Knowing eyes snapped back up. 

Lance froze.

“What’s funny?” Keith asked darkly. 

“Nothing,” Lance didn’t know if his dignity could take the explanation. 

Lips pursed tighter Keith pulled out a small tub of vaseline and napkins. 

“What’s that-” Lance stopped, both from Keith’s harsh glare and the beginning of a transformation. Look, he wasn’t stupid. He knew how makeup worked. He’d had a face care routine since he was twelve, he had sisters, a mom, dated his fair share of girls. But watching Keith carefully remove false lashes, wipe away dark lipstick and blush, was something entirely different. Tossing the last of the wipes Keith inspected his face in the tiny mirror. “Could be better. Wish I had my safe house bag.”

“Allura probably has something,” Lance said, distracted. 

Keith was out of… drag? His face was his face again. So why did Lance still feel so weird? 

It had to be the dress.

“Will you let me help now?”

“Whatever.”

Grinning, Lance scooted forward. And despite his loud complaints the day Coran had forced them all to take  basic first aid course, he was very grateful for it as he wiped away small cuts, bandaging the worse ones, and picking gravel out of Keith’s knees. 

Keith endured it all with a distant frown. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Lifting a brow Keith leaned against the wall of his cot. “You have a penny?”

“I think I had a dime in my pocket when we got here. Pretty sure it’s lost in my room though,” Lance closed the first aid kit. 

Keith let it slide. “Just,” free from makeup his face flushed a very cute pink. “I’m embarrassed?”

“You?” Lance gaped dramatically. 

“Shut up.”

Lance grabbed Keith new clothes, setting the pile on his bed. 

“About Vantock.”

It wasn’t a question but the name made Keith wince. 

They fell into a momentary silence. Lance wanted to tell him it was clear he cared for him, but he also didn’t want to get kicked out. So he took the easiest of the dozen question hammering at the inside of his skull. “Thought of a plan yet?”

“No,” Keith looked toward the ceiling. “We need a new bargaining chip. I can’t go back in there with new injuries. He’ll know fake ones or self inflicted, and you won’t even slap me. I might get Pidge to, but I doubt it.”

“We’re not going to hurt you, Keith.”

Rubbing his eyes Keith pushed fingers through his hair. “I know. I could tell him I’m pregnant?”

Lance snorted. 

“Shut. Up.”

He zipped his lips, leaning back against the opposite wall of the little cubby bed, his feet up by Keith’s exposed thigh. The dress hung off him in ways Lance really didn’t want to think about. 

“I don’t think he knows enough about human anatomy to know,” Keith mumbled, half to himself. “But he might-” he snapped his jaw shut, looking up at Lance. 

“So you…”

“Yeah.”

Another long silence. 

A silence Lance definitely didn’t have feelings about. Why would he? Why should he? 

Clearing his throat forcefully, Lance shook his head. “You don’t have to have a solution by yourself. You’re with the team. Allura will call the blade in the morning and-”

“No,” Keith was up and on top of Lance in seconds, face inches away. “We are not calling the fucking blade. If they find out I failed they’ll be pissed. If they find out you all got the wrong galra after four pheebs of undercover work they’ll never forgive you. Imarr knows what she’s doing, she has eyes and ears everywhere. As far as she is concerned, voltron is working independently. Understood?”

Lance blinked. If he was honest a few words had slid past him as Keith’s makeup wiped, furrowed brow, scowling face got closer than he’d ever seen it. “Yup,” Lance squeaked. 

Dropping back on his heels Keith tugged at his hair, sigh turning to a hiss. His fingers came away red. 

“I knew I felt blood!” Lance scrambled for the first aid kit again. 

“Lance, it’s fine,” Keith tried to wave him off, and subsequently stopped as Lance toppled his entire first aid kit across his bed. “Lance!”

Catching Keith’s wrist before he could pick anything up Lance caught his gaze firmly. “Let me help.”

“It’s not that bad,” Keith tried again weakly. But he did sat back. 

Lance sat behind him, ripping open a little pack of disinfecting wipes. He started slow, stopping each time he saw the (very exposed) cords in his neck go taut. And there, underneath smearing and missing makeup Lance paused. Sat before him, Keith had one leg tucked underneath the other spread beside his on the bed, thigh exposed the side of the deep slitted skirt.

There were purple ovals in the soft skin. 

And Lance thought his heart would stop. 

“Keith?”

“How bad is it?” Keith asked, reaching a hand back. 

Lance caught it. “It’s not that.”

Turning a fraction Keith followed his wide eyes. The moment he realized he tugged the hem down hard. “I told you-”

“He didn’t force you. Did he?” Whatever stray sympathy Lance had collected or their prisoner was evaporating faster than a cup in an Arizona summer. 

“No,” Keith refused to face him. “I had to consent. It was part of the job.”

And anger very easily spread to the monsters who had not only kept him, but sent him to that tiny dust ball planet. Lance caught his upper arm. “That isn’t what I asked.”

Alarmed by his tone Keith shook his head, struggling to get out from his grip. “Lance. Stop. Vantock didn’t force himself on me. He asked each time, made sure-” his neck was going pink. “It’s fine.”

Lance let go like his fingers had been burned.

So many emotions, too many. Lance wanted to find what blade member had forced this mission on Keith and let Blue at him. And his tangled feelings refused to let go of Vantock. All fury had turned to something harder to pinpoint. It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t possible. “If it… wasn’t. Would you even tell me?”

Keith turned away once more, face utterly unreadable. 

Ouch. 

“I should finish cleaning up your head,” Lance forced the words through the tight pull in the base of his throat. 

Silence lapsed a long moment, the weight of words unspoken, unwilling to be spoke, begging to be heard, hung between them. 

Gently prodding with yet another small wipe, Lance paused. “Will you take off the hair?”

“Take off?”

“The wig.”

Keith turned to face him, at a loss, forgetting for the moment everything else on the tip of his tongue. “I’m not wearing one.”

“Extensions?”

“And I’d find black human hair extensions where exactly?”

Lance blinked. Keith’s hair was past his shoulders, thick, glossy, curled at the ends. “It’s real?”

“I’m overdue a hair cut,” Keith frowned. 

Why did the expression make his gut twist so badly?

“You’re being weird.”

Lance snapped himself back to reality. “What?”

“You,” Keith turned to face him, head cocked, brow raised. “You’re being weird. Why? If it’s about the dress thing you can absolutely get out. I told you. It’s a disguise.”

Lance sputtered, voice caught in his throat. “It’s not, I mean it’s a little bit but-”

Turning around, knelt on the bed, Keith’s eyes darkened on him, mouth pulled into a little pout. 

Lance swallowed. Hard.

“I am going to say this once and only once,” Keith spoke in a breathy pout, sounding a little bit too much like a porn star for Lance’s liking. Keith pushed him back until his spine was flat against the small wall of the little nook made for his bed. “If you say anything that could even be construed as flirting,” they were almost nose to nose, Keith’s wine scented breath on Lance’s collar bone. “I will punch you in the fucking teeth.”

Head back Lance’s hitched breath dropped. Closing his eyes he began to laugh. 

“I swear to-”

“There you are.”

Keith blinked. “What?”

“It’s not the,” Lance gestured vaguely, “look. It’s how you’ve been acting. You’re all confidant and-” he would swallow his tongue before he actually said the word ‘sexy’ to Keith’s face. “And put together all dressed up. I just… you say I’m being weird but you were so different. I followed to try and put you back together, see if my, our Keith was still in there somewhere. Four pheebs is a long time, especially when you’re pretending to be something else. The real you could have gotten lost.”

Keith’s fury melted. Knelt on the bed, shoulders tensed, his pout had turned to an all to familiar frown. “Oh,” was all he could manage. 

Scooping the first aid Lance slid beside him again, grabbing another little wipe, ripping it open with his teeth. “Glad to see you again.”

Keith closed his eyes and breathed out, long and slow. “Yeah. You too.”

They fell into a silence. Really the hit to his head wasn’t all that bad. If Lance had to guess it wasn’t even a concussion and Keith freely admitted he probably needed water. Dehydration seemed a symptom of needing to fit into little dresses. 

“Get dressed,” Lance locked the first aid kit. “I’ll make sure Hunk makes top tier space goo.”

“Is it weird to have missed it?” Keith snorted, freely poking fun at himself. 

Hand over his chest Lance gasped. “You dare insult Hunk’s incredible skills?”

The red dress hit him in the face before he could back out further.
Feeling his cheeks go about as red as the proffered clothing, Lance somehow managed to get out without looking behind him. 

 

Notes:

I just have to say thank you so so much for the reception to this story. The love and comments have absolutely blown me away <3

Chapter 6: Chapter Six

“So.”

Lance nearly hit the ceiling, using red fabric as a weapon with a shriek he would deny until the end of his natural life. 

Pidge caught the dress, distracted, brows drawn tight. “This is tiny ,” she muttered, at a loss. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter,” she looked up at Lance. “We need to talk.”

Still scarlet from ears to toes Lance squeaked, rubbing the base of his skull firmly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you saw that ‘interrogation’,” she put heavy quotations around the last word. 

Lance scowled. “It was!” Why was he already so defensive?

“It was emotional manipulation at absolute best.”

“Pidge.”

She tossed the dress back at him, nearly hitting his eye with the zipper. “Lance. Come on. I’m not stupid. I saw what happened in there. Keith may have learned some acting skills, but no one gets that good that fast. He’s protecting that skinny galra kid. He-”

“Stop,” Lance gripped the dress, nails digging. 

Shockingly, she actually did, lips pursed into a tight line. “Fine. If you won’t talk about this like he’s a friend then I’ll talk to you like he’s a mission.”

Mouth open and shut Lance nodded. He didn’t want to. He wanted to talk about Keith like a person. But for reasons far beyond him it twisted him up inside. He hadn’t realized he’d stepped in front of Keith’s door until Pidge started speaking again. 

“He’s compromised. He has a soft spot or maybe more for our prisoner, and there’s a chance that’s going to get in the way of what we have to do.”

“You sound like him,” Lance scowled, but wasn’t that just what he’d thought, watching Keith sobbing through the one way glass? “Vantock is also a person. We’re going to do this like Voltron has always done, with a modicum of kindness.”

“Then we’ve got to convince Keith of that.”

“What do you mean?”

Pidge crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s got Vantock convinced we hurt him- her- whatever, to get information out of him.”

Lips pressed tight he nodded, insides curling. “We can do that I know we can.”

“There is no we to this,” Pidge snorted. 

“What are you talking about?”

Pidge sighed dramatically. “Boys.”

“What?” Lance squeaked. 

Waving it all aside Pidge pressed on. “Fine. Back to the human, mostly human-”

“Don’t do that to him.”

“To the person,” Pidge’s eyebrow had lifted almost into her hairline. “Is he okay?”

Lance’s shoulders dropped a fraction. “I think so. I got him bandaged up. He had a pretty nasty slice on the back of his head. Did you know that hair is real? I didn’t know hair could grow that fast,” he brushed a hand through own hair, jealousy peaking through. 

“Not what I meant.”

“What do you mean?”

Pidge looked like she was going to melt into the floor, frustration burning under her skin. “How have you two ever managed to have a conversation?”

“Yelling,” Lance said before his brain got a hold of his tongue. 

She paused. “Fair point.”

Lance flushed. Winding the small red dress tighter he got a sequin underneath his fingernail. Blowing out a short hose between grit teeth Lance looked back up.

Pidge had hardly blinked.

“What did you talk about?”

No. 

Lance smiled, pulled tight at the corners. “The fact Allura tossed a flash grenade at him.”

“And?”

“Night club scene. Apparently he didn't learn any space cocktails. Complete waste of an undercover mission really.”

“ Lance. ”

He set his jaw.

“What did you see in that booth?”

Swerving around it, Lance shoved his hands in his pockets, brows drawn. “It’s worked for him for pheebs. And it got him as far as it did. It would have worked too if-”

Pidge shook her head. “We messed up. We’ll fix it.”

“We'd better.”

“Good to know you have so much faith in your team.”

Lance almost toppled forward. The door behind him had opened without him noticing.

Stepping out into the hall, in a black t shirt and usual dark workout pants. He looked exactly the same as he had the last time he'd lived in the castle. Almost.

“Keith,” Pidge tried to hide her guilty expression. 

Either not seeing or refusing to see it, Keith brushing the towel through his hair. It was fuzzy, unkept, a little curled at the tips. Keith gathered it into a band at the base of his skull. “Pidge.”

“You look like you again.”

Keith stood, almost shoulder to shoulder with Lance, lifting an eyebrow slowly. “So I keep being told.”

Feeling the gathering heat once more Lance looked pointedly down the hall, offering the crumpled dress. “This is yours,” he practically squeaked. 

Without a second glance Keith tossed both dress and damp towel over his shoulder before it could close. 

Shifting from foot to foot Pidge cleared her throat. “It really is nice to have you back.”

The almost smile in his eyes vanished almost instantly. “It’s not permanent. Once this whole mess is figured out I’ll get a new assignment form the blade.”

Why did that sentence twist Lance’s insides into a tight knot? Clearing his throat he tossed an arm over Keith’s shoulders. “Hopefully somewhere not so undercover. I miss the letters.”

“Funny,” Keith snorted. 

But at least the smile was back. 

Pidge glanced between them, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Anyway, we should probably go stop Hunk from cooking half the kitchen. He’s made a proper thanksgiving feast.”

Keith, still under Lance’s arm, walked with them down the hall. “I’d be flattered but I can’t have that much.”

Pidge looked around, confused. “And hurt Hunk’s feelings? Don’t worry. One meal won’t ruin you. You’ll still be able to fit into your baby doll clothes.”

Face going pink, Keith crossed his arms. “They aren’t that small.”

It was Pidge’s turn to snort. But she let it go. 

---

Keith didn’t think he’d need direction to the kitchen, but was grateful to walk with the others, almost taking a wrong turn. What he hadn’t expected was the group of them, every member of the castle, save Coran, cleaned and dressed, waiting for dinner. Group meals had, of course, been common. Had it really been so long he’d forgotten? Too many meals spent alone in his safe house. Too many little dried packets he’d find in his teeth days later. 

“Keith?” Shiro was at his shoulder. 

He almost jumped out of his skin. 

Forcing himself to calm Keith smiled at him, not a showy lipstick grin, but the small nodding familiarity he knew. 

Shiro’s shoulders dropped a fraction. 

What had him so jumpy? Keith watched Shiro a split second. 

Well, their reunion hadn’t exactly been fantastic. Months of radio silence followed by, well.

Keith caught his arm before Shiro could sit, squeezing his wrist. Not an apology, but maybe enough of one. 

It was enough to have Shiro’s usual smile back, taking his seat across from Keith. 

Only when he had taken his own seat that he realized the eerie silence wasn’t part of his old normal. Glancing up he almost shrunk from every set of eyes on him. “What?” he asked, maybe a touch too defensive. 

Allura opened her mouth, then reconsidered. “We have questions.”

Keith pressed into his chair. Dinner had been a bad idea. A very bad idea. 

Stood, Lance put his hands on the table. “Come on,” forced casual tone, smile to sharp. “This is Keith we’re talking about, take a few space acting classes and you’re a suer spy. What’s there to ask?”

Hunk entered with a large catering try, cutting off any protests. 

And Keith was actually grateful for the food goo. Not just the green goo of his first few weeks either. Hunk had clearly been given access to much more in the time he’d been away. Feeling like he’d been hallowed out he dug in before the silence pressed back in, the distant whispered conversations dying out. 

He could feel the eyes on him before he saw them. 

“Guys…” Lance tried again. 

“It’s fine, Lance,” Keith swallowed hard. “Space acting classes also involved interrogations.”

Lance tried to smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Pidge cleared her throat first. “How? I mean, you don’t seem the type to volunteer for, for that kind of thing.”

Swallowing a snort Keith adjusted in his seat. If he’d be talking there was no point in shoveling food in his face. “I didn’t exactly volunteer,” he began slowly. Really he’d shared more with Lance. But Lance could take it. Lance could understand. So he sanitized it. Keith told them about the original project, to seduce General Imarr Gorgon, get her information. Then he found a way and was given the assignment. 

“They couldn’t have given it to someone who fit his type?” Shiro frowned. 

Almost a exact echo of what Keith himself had asked. Until Kolivan’s glare had shut him up. He’d been there long enough to know orders were orders.

“I was attached to the mission,” Keith said. Not quite a lie. “I had all the information. It would be a pain to brief someone And I had a deal with the club. My safe house was in employment housing.”

Lance glanced at him, surprised. Not something he’d shared. “Did you have roommates?”

Keith didn’t understand why he’d care. "No. I had my own room. Or more accurately Kira had her own room.”

“So everyone knew you as Kira?” Pidge leaned forward. “There wasn't anyone?”

A flash of dark nights, warm in bed, whispering secrets he’d be killed for sharing. Keith swallowed. “Everyone. It was how I got most of the outfits. Sharing with the dancers. There were a hundred different species and aliens shifting through daily. Ports are great places to find discarded clothes. I got good at altering, fixing up ripped pieces.”

Shiro smiled. “And to think you couldn’t fix a button on your school uniform.”

Keith glared. But it was good natured. 

It was nice. To be himself again. But odd. Like donning an old favorite jacket. Sliding the hem of his jacket between his fingers Keith pressed on. “Yeah well, needs must. The dancers helped me with the makeup and hair thing mostly. Learning on the job. And it worked, mostly. I fed information to the blade.”

“Wait,” Lance’s head snapped up. “If it was working why’d they send us in?”

Ice shard in his chest. Keith set his jaw. “Imarr was away. I told Kolivan this. I told him it wouldn't be long and I’d get him more information. But he either didn’t get that communication or assumed I was lying. After the information lapsed I was told I was getting backup. Mission coming to a close. I didn’t get the chance to respond. Then you were there. I was going to try and keep my cover. I-”

“Why?”

Keith looked up. 

Hunk’s face was scrunched tight, confusion etched in every line. “I mean, you could had told us the situation. If the club staff knew you, trusted you, they wouldn’t have caught on you were talking to one of us.”

“Because it would have been a distraction. My well being isn’t something that should have factored into any of this,” Keith said simply. 

Chapter 7: Chapter Seven

Lance was already on his feet before Shiro’s and Allura's protestations could begin. Even with their words echoing off the walls Lance’s dark gaze spoke louder than they could. Keith was stuck on those eyes, face falling to a soft frown. 

“Your well being should always matter,” he said quietly. 

Keith’s insides twisted. “Knowledge or death,” he stated, ignoring the others, eyes on Lance. 

Lance looked away. 

“Keith,” Allura's voice brought everyone to silence. A princess through and through. “I understand this is important to you, but you are more than a member of the blade.”

“You’re a part of Voltron,” Shiro finished. He was still sat, but his hands were clasped before him, face drawn tight. 

Arms tight at his side Keith glanced at the false arm, the metal fingers. “Like you haven’t taken your own risks for the mission.”

Shiro backed off, gaze dropping. 

“Just,” Lance pushed fingers into his hair. “Just hold on a second. You really weren’t going to tell us, anyone? Why did you tell me?”

Keith refused, forcing his tone to stay steady and even. “Because you didn’t follow my plan. I gave orders. The blade gave them to you. Hunk was supposed to distract the guards so you could kidnap Imarr. That was it. That simple. But you sent the wrong person. The guard wasn’t distracted. And now Imarr is gone-”

“That isn’t what we were told,” Allura stepped in, voice icy. 

Keith shut up, jaw set. “And what exactly were you told?” His voice was low and dangerous. 

Lance knew that tone. He came before Keith shot at him with a bayard in hand. Lance put a hand on Keith’s shoulder only to have it shrugged off.
“We were told an undercover blade member was close to being discovered. That if they were the information would be lost.”

Keith’s shoulder were wound stone tight. “And you trust they told you the whole truth?”

“No, I don’t,” Allura admitted, face placid. “But I don’t trust you’re telling the entire truth either.”

“Allura,” Shiro said, shocked. 

“I’m with her,” Pidge crossed her arms, gaze firmly on the table before her. “There has to be more to this. The blade says Keith was going to be found out and Keith says they overreacted to a momentary silence. Something is weird here.”

Keith looked ready to explode. Pushing his plate back he stood, clinging to his composure by a thread. “I don’t know what you want to hear. If you want to believe them over me that is your prerogative.”

“Guys,” Lance looked between Pidge and Allura, turning on Hunk and Shiro. “It’s Keith. ”

Hunk gnawed his bottom lip absently. “I don’t know. I mean. The blade is all cloak and dagger about all this stuff, right? I know they aren’t going to give us the full picture-”

“Exactly,” Lance gestured wildly. 

“But,” Hunk rubbed his arms, glancing at Pidge. “You have a point. Sending in Voltron for a few days of silence. I know we’re all gung ho protect our team here. They aren’t. If they thought Keith was going to get found out wouldn’t they just order him back?”

Lance couldn’t argue that one. Looking back at Keith he waited for the reason, the explanation that would force the others back. 

Keith was scarlet, looking away pointedly. 

“There, there is a reason they wouldn't just order you back, right?”

Voice hitching only a split second Keith scowled. “They tried to. If I was ordered back then Imarr would go into hiding again. We wouldn’t have been able to find her. The information I was getting was good. If we pulled her then we wouldn’t get another word from her. Blade or not, they can’t just interrogate someone like Imarr. Her only weakness was her brother. Staying where I was gave me a leverage and ear to information.”

“So why send in Voltron? ” Allura was on her feet, hands pressed gently into the table. “If you follow orders as you’re told then surely you would have gone back. Mission incomplete.”

“Knowledge or death,” Keith repeated. “I’d rather have been found out than ended up with my target missing. Exactly what happened.”

Allura snapped back. “You say you would die in the line of your mission-”

Shiro stood at her side, eyes shot wide. “Don’t-”

She waved him off. “You would have rather died than let Imarr go.” Allura asked. 

Keith’s face was set. 

“So when Kolivan told us to go in, that there was a suspected compromised Blade agent. I understand now. When you went to the blade Shiro and I had only one request, make sure he comes home alive.”

Keith kicked his chair back. “What?”

“When you disobeyed his orders he sent us to get you. Mission was over. So we got you .”

Shiro’s voice was gentler. “We weren’t going to let you die. You put everything in Keith. I knew you’d see knowledge or die and, and take that literally.”

Keith was furious, seething his hands clenched in fists on the table. “So the mission, them sending voltron was Kolivan, what, handing me off because I was in over my head? I’m not a fucking child, Shiro.”

“You weren’t listening to Kolivan,” Shiro said sadly. 

Pidge’s crossed arms eased. “Wait, did you two know Keith was there?”

Shiro shook his head. “No. We were told just what we told you. Retrieve the general because an undercover blade member was in trouble and their cover was going to be blown. But knowing now who it was-”

“We believe Kolivan has set you back to us,” Allura finished, seeing Shiro’s hesitation. 

Keith’s anger hit a peak. Grabbing his plate he sent it onto the wall, food and glass splattering across the floor. 

Hunk made a soft sound and Pidge grabbed his arm to shut him up, but took her own step back. 

Keith didn’t seem to notice, turning back to Shiro with rage seething out each pore.

“Wait,” Lance jumped forward, which felt somewhat like stepping in the path of a moving train. “Keith, we can talk about this. I’m sure it’s not like that. It’s not like coming back to voltron is a punishment?”

Keith rounded on him, on the room at large. “Isn’t it? I disobeyed orders and instead of being left to die like any other member of the blade in my position, Kolivan tattled on me to mommy and daddy and sent me off for a timeout.”

Shiro had the decency to look ashamed. “We don’t know anything for sure. We were going to wait until morning to send our message to Kolivan.”

“Don’t,” Keith snarled, marching around the table. And when he glared at his older brother his eyes were not deep violet. They were glowing gold, pupils slits. “Don’t send him a thing. I’m fixing this. I don’t need Kolivan’s help and I sure as hell don’t need yours.”

The door slid open and Keith only wished he had something to slam on his way out. 

Allura slid into her chair, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “That could have gone better.”

“You think?” Lance hissed. 

“Don’t start,” Shiro said flatly. 

Lance was already on his way after Keith. 

Pidge stepped in his way. “Are you sure that’s smart? It’s Keith. He just needs some time to cool off, fight some holos in the training room.”

The pressure in his chest wouldn’t let him agree. “I don’t think this time.”

Pidge swallowed hard. “He was lying.”

Closing his eyes Lance felt the wince, like the words had been a physical blow. “Is it a lie if you don’t try to explain?”

“But-”

Lance stuck his head into the hall, looking down the way Keith must have gone, back down to their rooms, but the sight of Keith at the other end of the hall, heading toward the bridge stopped him cold. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”

After too many missions sneaking around Lance was proud he’d managed to learn a thing or two. Which all meant nothing when he tripped on the finally corner and nearly fell onto his face rounding the hall. 

Keith glanced over. In the split second before he looked away his eyes were blood shot, and his hair hung forward across his shoulders. 

It would have been Lance’s top concern if he hadn’t realized exactly where they were. 

Leaning against the one way glass, Keith was looking in on Vantock’s cell. 

Up on his feet, dusting himself off, Lance tried to recover some of his dignity. “What are you doing down here?”

Not toward the bridge. Not contacting Kolivan. Not anything that Lance would have expected. Hell, even going to find an escape pod and finding Imarr through sheer force of will. If anyone could manage that it would have been Keith. 

Keith shrugged, saying nothing, jaw set. 

Still somehow feeling like he was creeping forward, Lance stopped a foot or two away, looking through the glass. Inside, Vantock sat in a corner. Shiro had brought him a bed roll and a tray of food. It was empty. 

Lance pursed his lips. For a glara soldier, he was trusting. If he’d been locked away he’d assume the food was poisoned. He’d never fall for that… again. 

No longer running, or consumed by concern for Keith, Lance got a proper look at Vantock. Narrow shoulders, tall maybe, when he wasn't hunched, ears half the size of his head, little tufts of fur at the ends. Both ears were dropped, brushing his shoulders. He was still in his suit, a silver button up, dirty and cut, dark purple pants, dress shoes. 

“He looks like a kid at prom,” Lance teased. 

Keith didn’t rise to the bait. 

Taking him in carefully Lance watched him. “You care about him.” Not a question. 

Keith winced. But he didn’t argue. 

“Why?”

“Lance. Not now. I can’t-”

“He’s supposed to be your mission. Not even. A side effect of your mission,” Lance crossed his arms over his chest, staring in at their prisoner. 

Shoulder against the glass, Keith tilted his head, finally tearing his gaze away from the sight inside. The color that rose to his cheeks was finally devoid of the anger he’d been feeling since that disaster of a dinner. “You’re jealous.”

Lance almost toppled once more. “What?”

Keith pushed himself of the glass, sliding forward, hand on Lance’s chest. “You are fixated on the fact he got all of my attention.”

“I am not!”: Lance protested, though the squeak wasn’t helping. 

Raising a brow Keith stepped in closer, almost hip to hip, his face close, examining every inch of Lance’s face. “Did you get that confused by the act?”

Lance swallowed. 

“You are impossible.” But it wasn’t angry, wasn’t an accusation. His tone was impossibly soft. “It wasn’t real.”

Lance hated the twist in his gut. Fine, he was easily distracted and he might have admitted to a fraction of jealousy. But it wasn’t like that. Couldn’t be. But he also wasn’t stupid. He could see the sorrow in Keith’s face, knew he wasn’t sharing the whole story. And he could also see just how tired Keith was. 

“Keith-”

Before Lance could think of a way to help, to comfort, to ignite some light back in those sunken eyes, there was a sound from inside the room. 

Keith snapped to attention, stepping back from Lance like he’d been burned… or caught. 

Inside, Vantock, ears lifting, looked around, twisting the blanket in hand. “Is someone there? If you’re there, can I please see Kira? Please? I, I just want to know she’s okay.”

Keith looked like he was being torn in half. 

Lance didn’t like it. 

Hand on Keith’s arm he tried to pull him away. “In the morning.”

Notes:

Just maybe probing some feelings on my including some (consensual obvs) nsfw later on?

Chapter 8: Chapter Eight

Dragging Keith away from Vantock’s door felt too much like pulling a child away from a toy store window. Lance tried to convince himself it wasn’t something deeper. 

Looking numb, Keith watched his feet, trusting Lance to guide him down the hall. Only when they stopped did he look up at his closed bedroom door. 

“So…” Lance rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “We’re here.”

Keith nodded. He didn’t move. 

Gnawing his lip Lance leaned forward. He’d have thought Keith had always had his sheet of black hair. He was an expert at using it to avoid eye contact. “Keith. Are you okay?”

“Don’t.”

“Keith.”

“I’m fine,” Keith stiffened. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? I got kicked off my first real solo mission and Shiro thinks I’m a misbehaving child. Why wouldn’t that be fine?”

Lance frowned deeper. “You really think that’s what he's thinking right now?”

The scowl was back, and all too familiar. Practically Keith’s default expression. 

It was a small comfort. 

“No,” Keith grumbled, like a moody teen.

“Shiro and Allura didn't contact Kolivan. Vantock is fine. You just need some sleep and you’ll find a way into General snake lady’s private com line.”

“Gorgon,” Keith shot his particularly moody glare at Lance. 

He grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Like I said.”

Keith rolled his eyes. 

Bumping his shoulder Lance continued smiling. “Kolivan was a dick to pull you out. Shiro’s worried about you. Allura can’t help being a princess about the whole thing. She wants to keep the team together. We’re following you.”

A knot began to ease in Keith’s wound shoulders. “I was a shit leader.”

“That’s not why you left, is it?”

“Not exactly.”

Lance wanted desperately to press further, to get answer, figure out the puzzle that was this brand new Keith. But never in his life had he seen look so beaten down, like every scrap of energy had been pulled from him with pliers. Giving up he sighed. “Get some sleep.”

“Yeah.”

Still he didn’t move. 

“Keith?”

“Been a while since I’ve spent the night alone,” Keith mumbled, arms folding tighter.

Lance was stuck in place. “I thought you had a safe house?”

“I haven’t spent the night there since the second week of the mission.

Sure he was about to get his lights knocked out Lance spoke before he could think better of it. “You could spend the night in my room.”

Keith looked up. “You sure?”

Treading on the thinnest of ice Lance nodded. “Yeah. Of course. I don’t mind. As long as you don’t mind a bit of a mess.”

And then Keith was following Lance back to his room. 

Lance felt like he was floating, or dreaming. Maybe Keith had knocked him out for asking and he was hallucinating in a med bay pod. 

Flipping the lights on he carved a path  through a small pile of dirty laundry and thew few things he’d bought at the space mall. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Pidge’s room, and smelled better than Hunks but compared to Keith’s bleak dusty space it was practically a pig sty. “Sorry,” Lance felt his face heating for some reason. “Let me just-” he stopped, watching Keith sit on the end of his bed, kicking off his boots. 

Lance had expected Keith to take the floor. Didn’t matter. He could manage the floor. It’d just be the one night. 

Making enough room on the floor to spread out a blanket Keith stopped him. 

“What are you doing?”

“I… don’t exactly have a cot,” Lance said slowly. 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Come here you idiot.”

Lance had never been happier to be called an idiot. And he was ever more sure he was unconscious. Not even in sleep could he have imagined Keith sleeping with him in his own bed. This wasn’t just a knock out. He’d been put under heavy medication. Something to cause impossible dreams. Dancing elephants in tutus, going to prom with supermodels, Keith in his bed, stripping off his jacket and tying his hair out of his eyes. All equally impossible. 

Doing as he was told Lance tossed his own shoes behind him. He didn’t even bother changing into pajamas. 

Keith faced the wall of his alcove bed. 

Watching the curve of his neck, the few strands of missed hair, Lance didn’t dare blink, head on his pillow. “This okay?” he breathed. 

Keith nodded. 

“I won’t cuddle or anything.”

Keith shrugged. 

Lance was short circuiting. What was wrong with him?

“Ask me again?”

“Wh-what?” Lance squeaked. 

“Before. You asked me why I left.” Keith’s voice was whisper quiet. 

“I did.”

Keith rolled over, the unreadable expression back. No anger, no sorrow, just a flat expression with those eyes, missing his fire. “For you.”

Lance couldn't answer. 

“You told me before. Six Paladins. Five Lions. You offered to step down. I couldn’t lead. Black finally answered Shiro.”

“That can’t…” Lance’s voice caught. 

“I was a danger to everyone. I was spread thin. I wasn’t meant to be a leader. I said that was a part of it. The blades was another. I saw Shiro in that uniform again and you and I… Voltron doesn’t need me.”

“I do.” 

Keith dropped his forehead to Lance’s chest. 

On instinct Lance wrapped his arms around Keith. 

---

Keith didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep. Sleeping in a bed with someone, wrapped around them listening to them breathe. It wasn’t something Keith had ever had before, not the he remembered. But Vantock was a cuddler. Keith was used to brushing his fingers across petal soft fur, listening to his sniffling snores, flicking off his ears as they fell over his face. It was cozy. And he’d gotten used to it quickly. 

Hands on his chest Keith absently brushed over him, surprised to find not fur but a thin shirt. 

Vantock didn’t wear clothes to bed. 

Blinking absently he squinted through the dim light Keith saw, not Vantock, but- “Oh,” he breathed. Right. 

Trying to wiggle out of Lance’s arms without waking him Keith moved by fractions of inches. Nearly falling over as he crept over him Keith grabbed the wall, half bent over Lance. The light was soft, a few blinking lights, a video game console, a little spinning decor solar system of planets he didn’t recognize. In the shimmering shifting blue Lance looked like he was underwater. Mouth open a fraction, still in his clothes. 

There was a frantic tugging underneath Keith’s chest. Backing up slowly his spine pressed into the door before he left himself reconsider. 

The light of the hall washed over him and Keith frantically pressed the button to close it before he was caught sneaking away. 

“Keith!”

Almost jumping out of his skin, Keith whirled around. 

Allura, not in her paladin’s uniform but in her usual gown paused, on the other end of the hall. Glancing at a door that was certainly not his own she said nothing. “I, was actually looking for you,” she cleared her throat. 

“About last night,” Keith began, jaw set, gaze of the floor. 

“I’m sorry.”

Keith snapped up. “What?”

“I pressed, looking for answers I was not entitled too. And, if we had followed orders we would have gotten your general. It was not my intention to anger you, to make you feel like a child. I have felt that one too many times since I have woken, like a damsel in need of rescuing. It is not a feeling I cherish.”

Keith smiled. “It’s not one I’m used to either. Putting on a pretty dress hasn’t changed who I am. I knew what I was doing. Lance, Lance told me you and Shiro were worried. It’s why you asked Kolivan to keep me safe. And I get it. If any of you were in that position, were even thought to be in danger alone I’d have lost my mind a little.”

“Shiro said much the same, after your, er interrogation last night. He, we don’t regret getting you. And I’m sure we can find a way to fix this.”

Nodding Keith stepped forward. “I think I might have a plan for that. But, I might need to borrow a dress.”

Allura blinked. “What?”

“Mine was ripped pretty much to shreds.” He explained his plan to her. 

Before long Allura was opening up her closet. She didn't often wear more than her few favorites, especially as they were the easiest to move around in. Seeing her fancy party clothes, things her father had given her was painful enough. To wear them would be unbearable. 

Keith was presented a few options. 

Flipping past pinks he found a knee length black dress with deep violet lacing across stomach and bodice. 

Allura watched him pick it up with a thin lipped expression. “I was given that dress for a birthday, though I cannot remember which. I don’t believe I ever wore it. Black has never been my color.”

Keith snorted, holding it up in the mirror. “Good thing it’s mine then. Any chance you have makeup?”

She nodded and fetched a small case before returning to the bed.

Keith began to tug off his shirt. 

Sat on the bed, back to him, Allura turned quickly to let Keith dress. “Living in a castle full of young men, and Pidge, I suppose I never thought I would have this again.”

Keith thought over the giggling circle of dancers, hating every moment of trying to break the codes and cues of girls of his own planet had been an utter waste of time. Alien girls? Forget it. But they had seemed happy. Once he’d found a way in he hadn’t hated listening to happy chatter, being forced into new hairstyles, someone lending him lipstick without a second thought. Like having friends. 

“Did you have that before?”

Allura turned back, standing to help him smooth the slightly ruffled skirt. “I did. I was a princess. I had attendants. I had a woman who would braid my hair when I was a girl,” she absently brushed her fingers through Keith’s dark locks. 

Keith’s stomach clenched. “I’m sorry.”

Shaking her head, Allura brought the curtain of hair back over Keith’s shoulders. “Don’t be. The Altean people were simply a casualty in the G- in Zarkon’s war. Perhaps someday, when this is over, I may find new friends.”

“I’m sure you will,” Keith looked at her through the mirror’s reflection. “Maybe some that look good in black. Shame to leave the nice things all locked up.”

Allura glanced toward the closet with a soft frown. “Maybe.”

They stood in silence for a moment, side by side. 

Keith looked only a bit odd. The sleeveless gown showed Lance’s expert bandaging. It wasn’t as low cut as the one before. He looked nice. Not a princess. But Kira once more.

Keith cleared his throat awkwardly. “Makeup?”

“Right!” Allura fetched the case.

Chapter 9: Chapter Nine

Lance shuffled into the dining hall, feeling lower than he’d ever admit. He didn’t know what time Keith had snuck out but it twisted something in his guts. 

“Good morning,” Pidge turned in her chair, the only other one in the room, sipping Hunk’s space equivalent to coffee. 

Lance grunted, taking the seat beside her. “Why are you so cheery?”

“I’ve just had a word with Allura,” Pidge sipped her drink loudly. 

“So?” Lance rubbed his face. 

“She had a very interesting encounter this morning. She told me it looked oddly like Keith never returned to his own room last night.”

Lance froze.

“In fact, she could have sworn it looked like he was coming out of your-”

“Hi Hunk!” Lance said loudly as Hunk walked in, breakfast tray in hand. 

Jumping, almost toppling the tray, Hunk looked up, shocked. “Lance. Hi. Um, are the others here yet? Shiro said he would be right down.”

“I didn’t see anyone on my way,” Lance turned his chair to block Pidge from the corner of his eye.

Hunk frowned, setting down each tray and wiping his hand on the towel over his shoulder. “That’s weird. Maybe Coran called them back for something.”

Lance reached toward the tray slowly. 

Smacking his hand away absently Hunk turned to him. “So. It is true?”

He dropped his face into his hands with a long groan. 

Pidge’s soft laughter was cut off as the door opened, Shiro’s voice sounding a little odd. “Should you bring in his breakfast then? Or should I give him one first?”

Keith tossed the voice modulator from hand to hand. “I don’t know. I think maybe I should. If you walk in all wordless and scary then it throws off everything I’m trying to build.”

Looking up sharply Lance felt his guts do another funny twist. He was already stood, though he didn’t remember rising.

Dressed up again, Keith’s dark hair hung loose across one shoulder. The knee length dress flared at the hips, lace details pulling curves where there shouldn’t be. Allura had clearly spent a great deal of time sifting through jewelry as the purple gems hung by his chin were just the correct shade to bring it out in his eyes. 

Lance couldn’t help but scan him, heart doing a funny little flip when he saw Keith back in heels, though low ones. He looked, well…

“You look nice,” Pidge leaned forward, something gleaming in behind her glasses. 

Keith’s glare was, however, all his own. “If you’re all going to be pigs about it I’ll skip the explaining part and get on with my mission.”

“No!” Lance turned red as his voice caught. Shooting a very pointed glare at what could only be described as a Pidge shaped gremlin, He grabbed a plate for Keith. “We want to hear the plan.”

Allura and Coran entered moments later to listen, giving Keith enough time to inhale breakfast. He regretted not finishing his dinner. 

And those few minutes unfortunately gave Lance enough time to sneak small glances. 

He was wearing makeup again, lashes drawn out, eyes lined into sharp points. 

“Lance,” Keith said flatly. A warning? A greeting?

Stomach flipping over Lance tried to get his attention. 

Absently Keith spun the ends of his too long locks, the hair Lance had been so sure was a wig not the day before. 

Making sure no one was listening in Lance considered what to say, everything on the tip of his tongue before he decided on a whispered. “You sleep okay?”

Keith had to bite his tongue to keep from telling him it was the best sleep he’d had in ages. 

“Right!” Coran sat across from Keith, practically rubbing his hands together. “Good to see you again number four, your fashion interests have evolved some since we’ve last met!”

Caught between a new surge of annoyance and a smile he forced back Keith swallowed the last of his breakfast. “Allura said you’ve been watching the security tapes to keep an eye on our prisoner.”

Lance cause the split second hesitation before the title. 

Nodding firmly Coran’s face turned down. “I have. Nothing out of the ordinary. He did spend a great deal of the night crying. Not a well thought out ploy if he thinks we are interrogating his date for information.”

Keith slid aside his plate, brows furrowed tightly. “Exactly. We don’t want him to see Voltron as the big bad.” He took a deep breath, eyes on the table as he spoke, still rolling the voice modulator between his fingers. “Which is why I’m going in like this. Cared for, cleaned up, bandaged. I can convince him Voltron aren’t going to hurt us. Let us go back. If I can’t get him to just give up the comm line. But if we tell him Voltron didn’t mean to hurt him. He can contact his sister to get her to fetch us. We can track her. She may not care for her brother that much, but she cared enough to put him in that outpost, to stay with him. She won’t leave him in the hands of the enemy.”

He didn’t realize everyone had gone silent until he stopped speaking. 

Fork halfway to his mouth Keith paused, glancing around him. “What?”

Shiro leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers locked together. “It’s a good idea," he began slowly. 

Keith blinked, surprised. So much of his own ability in question and Shiro was on his side so quickly. What changed?

"It keeps us in a better light," Shiro started again, keeping his voice level. 

"But-" Keith muttered under his breath, eyes dark. 

" But, " Shiro frowned at him pointedly. "Do you really think it will work out that way? That’s a lot of variables.”

“The only variable is Imarr’s willingness to collect her brother.”

“You’re sure you can convince Vantock?”

“Entirely,” there wasn’t a moments hesitation. 

Shiro considered him a long moment. It was still so odd, too odd. Something about the delicate lines of his new costume. It wasn't his normal armor but Shiro was sure there was less of Keith visible to him than there ever had been before. He didn't like it. He didn't know what was missing.

Keeping his own wobbling opinions to himself Lance cleared his throat. “Lets get this done.”

---

 

Keith found himself leading the way down the hall. Pausing before the cage once more, he let his gaze slide easily over the glass, refusing to let a moment’s weakness show. To share with Lance was one thing, to share with everyone else was quite another. 

Quiet a long moment he kept his face away from the group. 

Lance's hand on his shoulder, it had to be Lance's hand. He pulled him just out of earshot, ignoring the glances sent after him. "You don't have to do this. We can come up with a different plan.

Keith shook his head once. Shaking out his arms he pushed both into the loosely curled hair around his face, setting his jaw. "I know you have to watch, I just-" 

"You going to be embarrassing with your boyfriend?" Lance prodded, battling his own grin. 

One single pointed glare was enough to kill the grin.

"Oh," Lance pushed his fingers through his hair. "But… we have to know, have to watch."

"I know," Keith dropped his shoulders. He pried himself away from Lance and back to the group, leaving behind Lance, a little lost and even more confused. 

Lance wanted to catch him again, to say something, anything, but he didn't know how, or even what he'd say if he could. Feeling a gathering weight directly below his sternum he stood beside Keith paused in front of the door. "I-" 

The alarms blared. 

Allura looked up sharply. "Coran. Back to the bridge."

"The shields are up, nothing should even be able to get close enough to activate those alarms."

"Is this a 'we're going to need voltron' alarm?" Hunk tied his bandana around his forehead, knotting it deftly. "Or is this a 'yellow needs to beat these guys up' level?"

"Don't know until we look," Shiro paused, looking back at Keith. "Someone should stay, make sure-"

"Go," Keith tried not to sound as relieved as he felt. "I can handle it, Shiro. I have for months."

The look caught between Shiro's brows was louder than every fear and cobbled emotion he could express. 

Keith's nod was enough, the small jerk of his chin sending Shiro down the hall. Hunk and Coran were just behind him. 

Pidge took only a second before she was after the group. 

Left behind Lance and Allura stared each other down. "Someone should stay, watch the, er, interrogation."

"I can," Lance said without hesitation. 

"But-"

"It's fine, princess," Keith tried to promise. He absently ran his fingers through the ends of his hair. His hands looked odd without their usual gloves. 

Lance didn't understand why he wanted to take his twitching fingers, comfort him somehow. Not in front of Allura. 

He paused. 

Was that really the only thing stopping him? How much had their one night changed? Nothing even happened. 

Cheeks going lava hot Lance cut off that idea with brutal speed. 

"Very well," Allura stepped back. "Be careful."
Tossing his hair over one shoulder Keith summoned the simpering smile he'd had at the bar. "It's Vantock. I know him." He adjusted a dial at his neck, the female variant of his voice finishing his sentence. "I know what I'm doing."

Allura's lips were thin but she still nodded, leaving Lance and Keith alone in the hall. 

"Do you think they'll be recording this?" Keith asked. The real Keith, not Kira.

Lance blinked, still half in his own very inappropriate thoughts. "What?" He came back to himself quickly. "Record? You mean him?" 

A single nod. 

Lance considered. "Maybe? I doubt it. Why?"

Keith unclasped the choker and placed it in Lance's palm. "I'll tell you when you can come in." Okay?"

"Wh- Keith?" Lance looked down at the modulator. "Keith!?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course." Without hesitation. 

"I'll tell you when you can come in."

Notes:

Def not late. What do you mean? Anywho. Hi

Chapter 10: Chapter Ten

When the door slid open it was clear Vantock was expecting a threat, maybe the robot armed ma to come back in with questions. He'd come in with food. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever eaten. But when he lifted his chin, doing his best to keep from trembling he saw a vision. 

"Kira," his voice shook. Relief drove him to his feet. 

She was in his arms in a millisecond, face buried in his chest. 

Vantock didn't know when his knees gave out, when he gathered his perfect Kira in his arms, on his lap. 

Pulling back a fraction he cradled her face, searching for the dirt, the harm, the signs of torture. 

"You, you're," his voice wavered and broke, eyes welling. "You're okay. Thank Zarkon."

Kira smiled, pressing into his palm. "I'm fine," he said gently.

"But, I mean, they dragged you away, they-" he pushed his fingers through his hair again, scanning her over and over. 

Not the dress she'd been in when they'd come in, bandage around her arm, face done up. Clean and cared for. And, and- his fingers brushed her bare throat. 

"Keith?" he breathed.

Glancing back at the door Keith nodded once. "Yeah," he smiled. 

Vantock smiled, laying his forehead on his. "Keith it is."

Breaths long and slow Keith relaxed under his palms, easing into his chest. 

"And you promise you're okay?"

He laughed, a feather soft sound, one Vantock was sure only he had heard. "Cross my heart."

Vantock shook his head, bringing Keith's face with the motion, still pressed together. "I still don't understand that one."

"Don't think about it too hard." Keith shifted back, his hands curling around Vantock's face, searching for his injuries. "Are you okay?"

"Surface level," he made a clumsy cross over his heart.

 

---

 

Outside the door, pressed into the glass, Lance bit his bottom lip tight enough to draw blood. He could taste the metallic edge.

Acting. 

Lance trusted Keith. 

He had too.

 

---

 

"Vantock," Keith swallowed. "We can't stay here."

Vantock glanced at the glass. "I know. But what choice do we have. The only thing we can do is stay, not give them any information."

"They don't, I don't think they want information."

Vantock deflated, knowing what Keith would say before he said it. "Imarr."

A single nod. 

"So what are we now? Bargaining chips? You know that won't work."

Keith looked up, shaking his head even as a smile grew. "No. I don't think they're going to do that. Vantock do you know where we are? What this is?"

He shrugged, adjusting, gathering Keith in against his chest, leaning against the wall. It felt familiar, a position the both knew well, though with less clothing between them. 

Keith took his hand, winding their fingers. "We're in the Altean castle. The castle of the lions."

"What?" Vantock almost toppled them both, twisting to see Keith's face. "You're kidding. That's a myth. A kids story. Voltron isn't, that's not actually real."

Keith nodded. "I saw a lion. It's what I was taken here in," he whispered. He could claim whatever acting skills he wanted, the false wonder was palpable. 

Vantock didn't catch it. Still shaking his head Vantock dropped back. "That's…" the shock slipped away, eyes wide. "Oh."

Keith said nothing. 

"You support them?" Not an accusation. A soft question. 

"You know where I come from."

"I still can't believe it."

"A world the glara never invaded."

Vantock was quiet a long moment, enjoying the feeling of Keith's hands through his. "So you want the galra empire to end?"

"You've seen the outposts, Van," Keith whispered. "There has to be something better."

"And you'd turn Imarr in for that?"

Keith's breath hitched, turning around, facing her. "It's not that simple."

His face was tight. 

Sucking on his lip Keith shook his head. "Vantock. We don't have to be a part of this. We can just leave."

Yellow eyes narrowing he shook his head. "You really think these so called defenders of the universe are going to just send us away? We have information we have-"

Keith put a hand on his lips. "What? What do we have? I'm a dancer from a nowhere outpost," he pressed on before Vantock could protest. "And you are a foot soldier who got a comfy gig."

"A comfy gig where a general would visit half the time."

"And what did she tell us?"

"Bits and pieces."

Keith shook his head. "Anything that could mean anything to them?" he gestured toward the glass.

Vantock actually thought, flicking through everything his sister had ever mentioned even in passing but finally… she shook his head. "She always just talked about disciplinaries, scouting formations around ships. She never…" his face fell further. "I knew she didn't think much of me but she kept that much of a guard up? She treated me like a child."

Keith turned around sideways on his lap again, eyes full of concern. "Don't talk like that. She's doing her duty."

"Which you seem to think is destroying the galaxy."

"Van-"

He turned away. 

Keith swallowed hard. "You can't stay here. We've just got to get, to get you back home."

"Yeah."

Sliding off his lap Keith sat beside him, legs tucked underneath him, looking down at his twisted fingers. He opened his mouth several times, then closed it. 

"They just need her comm line, right?" Vantock seemed not to see Keith's tortured expression. "If that's all then Imarr can figure out a plan, find a way she won't be followed. I won't have the chance to screw this up like I've done for everything else."

"Don't-" Keith's voice wavered. 

"If she even wants me."

"Vantock," Keith laid a hand on his leg. 

Vantock brought his knees up to his chest. "Tell the scary robot man to come get you and take you away then."

Keith stood carefully, backing away. The expression was nothing like than many who had walked into the room. There was no more hard set, no more determination. To any onlooker he appeared genuinely heartbroken. "I could talk to them, get them to take you out maybe,"
Keith's voice trailed away. 

Vantock didn't lift his head. "What's the point? So you can show me your new home?"

"Stop it," Keith's fists curled at his side. "You know I don't mean it like that."

Vantock looked up at Keith and in the hard set of his jaw was everything galra about him, the way he was born and raised flickering behind those unreadable golden eyes. "I may be useless as a solider but that doesn't mean I'm a traitor. And I may love you but I won't betray the galra, not even for you. I thought you'd understand. You're half galra. You have every ounce of greatness in you."

"And what has the glara ever done for me besides leave me behind on earth and drag me into a war post bar to dance half naked for the half hope they might buy me a drink?" Keith shot back.

Vantock was on his feet, towering over Keith, fists clenched. "Don't you dare disrespect-"

"Keith-" Lance launched himself into the room. 

He trusted Keith. He wanted to trust Keith. But watching a galra soldier-- stringy and untrained notwithstanding-- threatening him was something he couldn't sit still for. 

Vantock backed off immediately. It wasn't fear in his face. 

"Vantock."

"He called you Keith." 

Betrayal.

Vantock backed up. "How long have you been working for them?"

Keith looked between them, trapped. Lance, squaring off, stepped right up next to him, ready to fight and defend. 

And Vantock, slowly backing himself into the corner once more, jaw caught in a sharp line. Even in the torn up suit from the night before, still an utter mess, he looked more a soldier than he ever had before. Standing straight, rolling his shoulders back he refused to look Keith in the eye. "VT439360."

"Vantock."

"You wanted General Imarr's comm line and you have it."

Keith backed up. 

Lance slid an arm around his wrist, getting shook off. 

"Fine, be that way," Keith snarled, turning on his heel he paused at the door, turning to face Vantock, spitting venom. "How did you expect this to turn out? Did you think you'd whisk the dumb little half galra orphan away and keep her locked in a tower, playing games and dancing with you for all time. This is a war, Vantock. Someday you'll actually have to pick a side."

Keith didn't given him a chance to answer before the door closed behind them. 

"Keith-" Lance started jumping as a fist slammed against the door behind them. Vantock roared like a lion, screaming after Keith, wordless, tearing into his throat. 

Unmoving, forcing himself to breathe Keith waited until the sound wound down and Vantock stepped away from the door, back against it. Soon the hall was filled only with the sounds of the little failed soldier crying, trying desperately to muffle the sound in his dirty suit sleeve.

Lance pulled at Keith's wrist again, gentler. This time he wasn't pushed away. 

Once they were properly out of earshot, Lance paused, waiting for Keith to speak. 

Head down Keith took forced slow deep breaths. 

"Keith?" Lance stepped back, hand leaving his am. 

Moving faster, Keith grabbed his hand, needing something real, something solid to hold onto. 

Lance waited once more. 

again, nothing. 

He wanted to be understanding, wanted to be gentle and caring. But of course his mouth got a hold of his good sense. "What was that about?"

Keith's head snapped up, eyes burning, red rimmed. Trying not to cry. "What was what ?"

Lance stumbled over his words. Keith didn't cry. Keith never cried. "Y-You were trying to get information from him. Why were you picking a fight?"

Stepping away Keith pushed his fingers through his hair, head back, staring at the ceiling. "I got what you wanted, right? I got the information. Why does it matter how?"

"Is that what you told Kolivan?"

Chapter 11: Chapter Eleven

Keith looked back down, eyes flashing, jaw set. He looked more like himself than he had since he'd first gone to the blade. 

Lance didn't move back, didn't back off. On the contrary he stepped in, grin growing. "There you are." 

Just as before the statement knocked all the wind out of Keith's sails. Blinking, confused Keith froze in place. "You keep saying that."

"I said it once."

"I still don't understand it."

"The blade changed you. I keep seeing glimpses. But it's like something is missing." Or new. 

Keith turned away, fingers twisting in his hair. "Maybe you didn't know me as well as thought thought you did."

"Maybe not." Lance agreed hollowly. 

Turning away forcefully Keith clenched his jaw hard enough to hear crack his teeth. Why did he care about how Lance was feeling? Why did it matter? "What are you seeing that isn't exactly who- what I've been since the beginning?"

Lance pulled his lips thin. "How much of what all of … this is, is really an act?"

Keith tried to summon his anger, the fury that had been threatening to boil over mere seconds before. Looking into Lance's crookedly grinning face he couldn't find it. "What are you asking me Lance?"

And suddenly it was Lance stumbling for words. Because what he wanted to ask couldn't be. "Exactly what I saId. How much of this is acting. How much is, is what you're really feeling. How much of what you feel about him is real?"

The confusion slid away, bringing down his mouth, stealing color, turning his eyes to sheets of steel. "What the hell does it matter, let alone to you?"

One foot back, on his own defensive though not knowing why, Lance crossed his arms tight over his chest. "It does! You're my teammate. You're important, you-"

Keith almost knocked them over, arms around his neck. For a split second Lance was sure Keith was attacking him, trying to actually choke him until he realized what Keith was doing. Face buried in Lance's chest his breathing coming in short bursts. Keith didn't cry.

Sure. 

Lance slid his arms around him and listening to him slowly get himself under control. "Something hit too close."

"He said he loved me."

Lance felt a block of ice under his ribcage. Had he? Had Vantock actually said…

"So?" Lance asked, unable to help the edge sliding into the word. It wouldn't be that Keith was concerned about breaking the galra's heart. Keith couldn't- didn't care like that. If he did- Lance shook his head a fraction. His won thoughts were starting to jumble. "Keith, I-"

The castle alarms, silenced once Coran had vanished around the end of the hallway blared out loud and strong once more. 

Keith pulled back. His face was dark, unreadable. "Go. They need Red Lion."

"You want to fill in? Something to shoot-"

"Go." Keith repeated. "I'm not a pilot of Voltron any more. You're right. I belong to the blade."

Lance stepped back, offering a lazy salute, shooting down the hall. He rounded the corner just in time for the funny squeezing around his heart to return his breathing to normal. He was right, Keith couldn't care about breaking anyone's heart. He wouldn't say things like that otherwise. 

 

---

 

Lance returned to the main deck, almost toppling over himself in his rush back. Pidge's questioning voice had followed him from the hall of lions. And really he didn't know what had him back inside the castle the moment he could. The galra attack had been small, a tiny force or fleet, taken out quickly, simply outnumbered. 

Grabbing the edge of the door frame he stopped to catch his breath. 

Arms latched tightly over his chest, still in his nice getup Keith waited, speaking intently with Coran, face pinched. 

"What-"

"It seems we are suspected," Coran said, not entirely convinced. "Number-"

"The fleet is tracking Vantock," Keith tapped his toe, agitated. 

"They can't be," Allura followed after Lance, her expression matching Coran's. "The shielding around the castle-"

"Is a hundred years old and you know it," Keith cut in. Not fighting, not aggressive. Firm. 

Allura paused beside him, shaking her head. "It was a scouting troop."

Keith pointed emphatically. On the screen before him was a three-d image of the ships. "Scouts are space torn. Not new, not clean. They know he's here. We have to act now."

"If you're so sure our technology is so antiquated then how do you know our trackers won't be found?" Coran almost sneered. 

Lance stared at him. Coran didn't sneer. How long had Keith been trying to convince him? What had Keith said?

"Because," Keith offered his wrist where a pale white line ran the length of his inner arm, one side to the other. 

"The blade put a tracker in you?" Allura said, disgust written in every line. 

Keith nodded, one sharp motion. "I can give you the tracker number, you can follow me. As long as I'm with Vantock."

"And if you're separated?" Shiro had joined the small circle. 

"You think I didn't put a tracker in him the first chance I could?" Keith shot him a withering glance. "It's a shorter range than mine. Find me, then him."

Shiro's expression didn't change. "It's one thing sending you to an outpost. I know blade protocol. When invading any enclosed space you send a team."

"Unless it's an emergency."

Shiro's lips pulled thin. "This isn't."

"And how do you expect to get another agent in on a general's personal ship?"

"I don't like it."

"Tough."

Lance stepped between them, trying to grin. ''Come on guys, I'm sure we can find a solution to this."

"Perhaps if we could convince Imarr another dancer had been taken?" Allura offered. "Pidge or I could-"

"Not a chance," Pidge had finally made it in with Hunk, both of them a little windswept from the attack. She offered a scrap of fabric from the group at large. "The last ship dropped thing when you hit the cargo hold. This was in it."

A scrap of black fabric emblazoned with a red symbol. 

"Do you recognize it?" Pidge watched Keith carefully. 

"Imarr," he confirmed. 

Allura arms crossed tightly. "Then she does know you're here." 

The sharp look on Keith's face wiped away any need to actually speak the words 'I told you so.'

"So," he pressed, tosing his long hair over his shoulder. "We go with my plan then?"

Lance looked around, waiting for someone to protest, for anyone to argue. There had to a better plan than sending in Keith unarmed and unguarded. 

No one did. 

"Good," Keith nodded once. 

"Hold on a moment," Coran stroked his moustache. "If we had the chance to get one of these blade trackers, a good long range one we could place it into our prisoner and heal him up. Number four wouldn't need to go at all."

Alurra nodded.

Keith didn't look happy about it but didn't argue. 

Hand on his shoulder, Shiro tried to smile. "This isn't about your capabilities Keith. But you know we don't send people alone."

Shrugging off theoffered hand Keith nodded. "Fine. Call Kolian. Get him in on it. I'm done." 

Lance blinked. "Done?"

"Mission over," he looked up at Shiro, and for a split second Shiro could see just how tired his brother had become. "Let me know when Kolivan wants me back. I can be out by morning."

"Wh-but-Keith," Lance tried to argue and the chorus of voices told he wasn't the only one. 

Pidge had dropped the fabric and caught Keith before he could vanish into the hall. "You know you don't have to go, right?"

Shocked by the outcry Keith froze in place. "What would I even do here? If I'ma not a pilot then I'ma not needed."

"Needed isn't the reason you'd be staying," Lance's voice was soft, close enough only Keith and Pidge could hear. 

Nodding emphatically Pidge didn't let go. 

Keith set his jaw, refusing to look at anyone. "This is a war. I can't stay here just because I want to, not when I could be helping, working to stop the fight."

"And do you want to?" Pidge's voice was small.

Keith swallowed, rolling his shoulders back. "Of course I do."

"Then-"

"At least consider it," Shiro cut in.

"Please?" Pidge squeezed his arm.

"I'll consider," Keith said finally. 

Hunk grinned. "Ii'll make sure dinner is a proper feast. I've got some stuff I've been saving."

Pidge released Keith's arm reluctantly, going to interrogate Hunk and simultaniously beg r her own favorites. 

Shiro had tuned back to Allura and Coran, discussing the tracker. 

Halfway to the exit Keith hadn't moved, arms over his chest, gaze firmly on the floor. 

Lance glanced over his shoulder, sure his voice wouldn't carry. "You will actually consider it, won't you?"

Keith shrugged limply. 

Lance felt something deflating under his chest. "Mission over," he repeated. "Does that mean you get to be you again?"

Keith still wasn't entirely sure what Lance meant by that. He didn't feel different, not really. The blade had trained him. But that didn't mean they'd changed him, did it? "It means I should get to returning Allurra's dress."

Lance bumped his shoulder. "No more dress up?"

Rolling his eyes Keith removed the earrings, tossing hair over his shoulder. "Maybe if you ask real nice she'll let you borrow one."

Lance pouted. "You know I just don't think I have the hips for it."

"And I do?" Keith raised a brow. The effect was ruined only slightly by the fact his current get up was indeed, flattering (at least in Lance's opinion.)

Shrugging Lance slid an arm around his shoulders. "Come on mini princess, let's get you back in real clothes."

Keith protested, but only just, letting him be pushed out of the room and down into the hall. He managed to steal a quick glance over his shoulder before the trio of Shiro Allura and Coran vanished behind closed doors. 

Mission over. He repeated silently. 

He didn't need to involve himself with anything further. Shiro and Alurra could handle getting a tracker into their 'prisoner' and sending him off. Kira's part was over. 

But it didn't stop him from watching the branching tunnels into the holding cells until they were long out of sight. 

Notes:

I've been on a bit of a writing kick lately and so I am offering a choice. Would you like two chapters this week with a weeks break in-between or would you like me to stick to my weekly posting? :)

Chapter 12: Chapter Twelve

Once more washed clean of makeup, dress on his bed, Keith looked around the bare room. 

It was his room. Technically. It could be his again. He had the choice. 

Sitting down the edge of his bed he fingered the lace hemming around the edge. Mission over. He'd get cleaned up and he'd have more missions. He'd forget. 

Maybe. 

Had it always been so quiet in his empty room? And as it always felt so empty?

It hadn't changed. Maybe dustier. That part didn't matter. He wouldn't be there long enough to need to clean.

Keith wrapped his arms around himself, elbows on his knees. 

He was helping, right? He was making a difference. If the blade caught Imarr, got her to spill secrets…

He shook his head. 

It didn't matter. He was digging a hole with a teaspoon, trying to climb a mountain pebble by pebble. 

But what was the alternative?

To be with the blade or to be with Voltron, a grain of sand in a desert of people and creatures. He'd convinced himself that what, because he was glara he was supposed to do more? 

Well, how well had that worked out?

"How did you think this would end?" He asked aloud, throat still feeling raw from when he'd screamed at Vantock. 

The mission would have always ended up with Keith leaving. Vantock wasn't supposed to- Keith wasn't supposed to-

And he'd screamed at him. The only person he ever remembered getting that angry at was, not, poor comparison. He'd been angry at everything for so long. 

So why was the first person that sprung to mind-

"Keith?" Lance's voice came to him from the other side of the door. 

On his feet immediately Keith went to the door, face grim.

Lance didn't look much happier. "They've got the tracker in Vantock, all healed up and ready to be shipped out. Allura wanted to know, she, um, she thinks you should be there, to talk to Imarr and maybe to help with Vantock?"

"I won't be much help," Keith glanced back at the bed, where his jacket and the dress remained, both neatly laid across the bed spread. 

He let the door shut behind him. 

Lance opened his mouth, shut it. 

Falling into step beside him Keith had his hands shoved into his pockets. "Does he know about the tracker?"

"Of course not," Lance brushed it off easily. "Coran was so sneaky about it too. He went in to talk to Vantock about the castle and the lions, giving him the Voltron defender of the universe pitch, you know. Coran is good at it too."

Because he really believes they're making a difference , a glib voice in the back of Keith's head griped.

"Then he gave him the tour, Shiro behind doing the stoic guard thing. Then Coran did the whole, my gosh you're injured we can heal you up."

"And Vantock bought it?"

Lance's expression flickered. "Not at first. But when he came out of the pod all healed up and was handed clean clothes I think he did."

Keith tried not to think of Vantock, too-trusting Vantock, stepping into a pod only to have a tracker shoved deep enough below the muscle.

 "What now then?"

"Vantock is waiting on the main deck. Hunk and Pidge are getting an escape pod ready."

"And by ready?"

"A little bit of food but mostly just cleaning it out. With he escape pods-"

"Enough food and water to survive on," Keith repeated.

"But, as we're just sending him out to be picked up," Lance finished. "No need."

Keith nodded. 

Stopping outside the door to the main deck Keith took a deep breath. He didn't look like Kira, properly wiped clean of all the face paint and mess, dressed in simple dark clothes. But he didn't feel like Keith. Maybe Lance was right. Maybe the blade had changed him more than he was willing to admit. 

Before he could enter Lance caught his arm. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," Keith didn't look up.

Lance didn't move his hand. "If you aren't… I'm here to listen."

Keith smiled, managing to really see him for a split second. "You keep talking about how the blade changed me. But I don't think you've seen how you've changed."

Before Lance had the chance to answer Keith had stepped into the next room. 

The trio on the bridge turned as one. Vantock stood beside Shiro, not even bound, given a pair of clean clothes that looked suspiciously like they had once belonged to Shiro. Allura, dressed her princess finest, smiled as he entered. "Keith, Lance."

Vantock's face twisted. Keith only nodded. 

Allura cleared her throat, confused. "Are we ready, Coran?"

"The signal has been sent, we just need the comm line." Coran stepped up to the awkward group, oblivious to it all.

Keith stepped forward, not giving Vantock the chance to enter a thing. "Galran comm line aren't like phones back home. It's not a request, especially with lines to direct authority," Keith explained to the group. 

Vantock only watched, shrinking in on himself. 

The enormous screen flickered above them.

Keith stood pointedly on the opposite end of the line from Vantock as he tried to get Keith's attention. 

"Kira, please."

"It's Keith."

"They told me… told me you're-"

The call connected. 

Imarr, strong shoulders and unruffled by the sight before her, tilted her head a fraction. She was a picture of authority, thin layer of violet fur sicked back out of narrowed golden eyes. "The Altean castle, home of the Voltron lions. Truly a surprise really. I had half convinced myself you were a myth spread by the decenters. No matter."

Allura stepped forward, matching posture, using her strongest voice. "I am-

"Allura, yes, a princess of a kingdom gone long before my parents' births," Imarr said, skipping past her. "Really, I wouldn't have thought my brother would garner such attention. Though I should have guessed," her gaze fell pointedly on Keith. "You really were too good to be true for him. Not caring about his status as a deserter or his near discharge from the forces. Any true galran would have run screaming for the hills when hearing his name."

Vantock flinched. 

"Good thing I'm not a true galra then," Keith glared right back up.

Vantock peered around Shiro, surprised. 

"Any galran blood is enough galran blood to be marked a traitor and put to death for the betrayal of your people."

"No!" Vantock's voice wavered, cracking on the single word. But he still spoke it. "Imarr, you can't. It's just Kira. You can't hurt her."

"Enough," Imarr sneered, though for a single second there was a flicker of something behind her eyes. "From what my scouts could collect I'm going to guess my brother was not the target of your little kidnapping. And you intend to return him after finding out just how useless he is to you… princess," she laid her chin delicately on folded fingers. 

Vantock dropped his head. His every fear echoing across the empty room. 

Allura bristled but kept her voice steady. "Do you want your kin returned to you or no?"

"Fine," Imarr sat back, waving her hand absently. "Send him out. I can have a scout collect him. Just him. I find any tracers, any stowaways and you will see just how ruthless my army has become under my control," She sat forward, gripping the arms of her chair. "And, dear Kira, make sure your false goodbyes are brief. My family has wasted quite enough time dealing with you."

Before Allura had a chance to clarify the screen flickered and died. 

"She's pissed," Vantock said quietly, head still down, gaze on his twisting fingers. 

"Let her be," Keith didn't look, but couldn't help the words. "Maybe she'll take you somewhere more remote this time."

Vantock visibly deflated, only managing a single step forward "Keith. Can we-"

"No."

He looked away. 

Exchanging their own glances, Shiro caught Allura's eyes.

Lance for his sake was looking up at the ceiling pointedly. 

Clearing his throat Shiro put on his best big brother smile. It was something well practiced and near perfected in the years of living with Keith. "This is good news," he placed a hand lightly on Vantock's shoulder. "We'll have a pod ready for you in just a moment."

Not even glancing up Vantock nodded again. 

Allura paused, keeping her words low.

"Don't you want to see him off?" Allura called, confused. She hadn't seen the fight, hadn't seen the argument. 

"Why?" Keith faced the group at large. "I told you. Mission over. Kira's dead." He didn't bother keeping his voice low. 

"Then it wasn't ever Kira I loved."

Keith, already walking away, pretended not to hear Vantock's final words to him. 

Waiting by the large windows, Keith waited until the sounds of feet shuffling and doors closing had ended before his tenuous grip on his composure flickered and died. Dropping his face into one hand he forced himself to breathe. 

"You didn't have to do that."

Lance's voice knocked Keith back into reality. Looking up sharply his head whipped around, heart hammering. He'd wrapped his arms tight around himself. Despite the thick glass the empty space outside was frigid, sending goosebumps up his arms.

"I thought you'd have gone off to send our prisoner away. Voltron; one big happy team."

Lance ignored the biting sarcasm, slipping out on his own jacket. "Shiro and Allura have it handled." He stepped up by Keith, the pair of them watching the huge unfamiliar galaxy as it lazily drifted by, absently setting his jacket on Keith's shoulders.

Keith didn't protest, didn't put his arms through, wearing the oversized thing like a cape. "What do you mean?" he asked finally. "That I didn't 'have to do that?'"

"Reject him. It's- we'd understand. Long undercover missions. Feelings can get-"

"You've already pointed out I care for him," Keith said flatly. 

"So why…?"

"Better this way. If he thinks I hate him, that it all was fake."

"Better for who?"

Keith was halfway to a snarl when the alert for the pod bay doors on the side of the castle had opened. 

Both fell into silence once more. 

Keith's ears felt fuzzy. Better for who ? He repeated, Lance's voice on a loop. 

Numbly he watched the small pod drifting along. They would watch it until a scout picked it up. The ever good team Voltron refusing to leave their prisoner alone. Keith wondered for a split second if the blade would do the same. 

He didn't have time to decide when, outside the window, the pod blew up.

Notes:

:)

Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen

"No!" Keith's scream shattered the stunned silence. 

Ripping from Lance's grip he barreled forward, colliding with the bay glass hard enough to bruise. "No, no, no," the words spilled from his lips, unable to hold them back. Outside, the empty vastness of space held only the scattered remained of the escape pod. Scraps of metal, glass, wiring. No signs of anything else. 

Turning to face them Keith, face was stark white, eyes glazed, panic written in every line. "Coran, scan for signs of life -" 

"Keith," Coran's voice wavered. 

Besides him Alurra had her face into Shiro's chest, hand over her mouth. 

"Coran!" Keith's voice broke, he wavered on the edge of tears. "Scan for life."

 Reluctantly, already knowing the inevitable, Coran did what he was told, face downcast, hands trembling. "None." 

Keith marched forward, fist slamming on the controls. "Scan it again!" 

A hand on his arm. Keith turned and would have punched Lance in the nose had his shaking arm not been caught. 

"He's..." Lance tried for words. 

"Keith," Pidge began. "I understand it's a shock but -" 

"Shut up!" Keith tried to scream again, the sound caught in the syrup in his throat. "You don't understand shit. Just shut up!" 

Pidge took a step back, mouth pulled tight. 

"Keith, you're scaring her," Hunk began. 

Refusing to hear another word Keith tried to pull away from Lance. His fist had wound into his sleeve. "Stop, just stop, we can regroup. We'll track her, hand her to the blade." 

All the misplaced anger was suddenly narrowed, a blazing bonfire sharpened down to a welding point. Keith tried once more to get away.

"No," he said, snarling each word. "No. I'm not handing her over to the blade. I'm going to fucking kill her." 

The entire team froze. Ignoring each and every one of them Keith wrangled out of his jacket and shot down the hall. Left gripping limp fabric Lance took a split second too long to start moving. 

"Maybe I should-" Shiro started forward. 

Lance was already running. "I've got him." 

Keith was down the hall, already rounding the first corner toward the lions bay when Lance scanned the hall. 

Heart skipping, Lance ran after him, calling for him. 

The high pitched screech in Keith's ears wouldn't allow him to hear a single thing. 

"Keith!" Lance almost slid into the open door of the bay. 

He was marching across the floor, stopping dead in front of red lion. "Let me in!" The anger was still alive, burning him, keeping him moving. He had to keep moving. Each time he blinked he saw the light of the explosion there. He couldn't see anything else.

"Keith, stop," Lance panted, running forward, stumbling over his own feet. 

Heaving breaths hitching in his shoulders Keith stood right at Red's paw. 

She hadn't moved. 

"Keith," Lance hesitated. Why wouldn't she let him in? Had he really changed so much?

“Open up you stupid-”

Lance grabbed him before he had a chance to actually kick Red Lion. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Lance pulled him away, shaking him a little. “Keith. Get a hold of yourself you-”

He was crying. 

Not just the few welling tears, but blood shot and streaming down his cheeks. His anger wasn't enough to keep them at bay. 

Face deathly pale, Keith looked up at Lance, hating the tracks carved into his cheeks. He was trembling. 

“Oh,” Lance’s grip lightened. 

He didn’t try to get away again. 

“She killed him,” Keith’s throat was tight, voice straining. “We were sending him back and she just blew him up. This is all my fault. If I’d just, just…”

“Don’t,” Lance pulled him close, lifting his head. “Don’t you dare. You couldn't have known what that monster was going to do. He was her brother. None of us could have known. This isn’t your fault.”

Keith crumbled. Knees giving out he dropped against Lance, face in his chest, wracked with heart wrenching sobs. 

Lowering them both to the floor Lance gathered all the broken pieces of Keith, scared they’d scatter if he didn’t hold onto them. And Lance could see those pieces now. Keith hadn’t just cared for Vantock. 

He’d loved him. 

And that realization more than anything held Lance tighter. 

A shift behind them lifted Lance’s head up. Red Lion had come to life, dropping beside them on the floor. Huge head nudging his side she made a small sound, something Lance might have called a keen in any other animal. 

Keith must have heard it too. Lifting his head, still pale, still crying, though quieter. Red rimmed eyes landing on the lion he reached a palm out. 

Red pressed a fraction of an inch closer. She would always be his, at least in part. And she would protect her boys. 

“Why didn't you let me?” Keith asked.

Lance realized he wasn’t asking him. “She doesn't want you to become a murderer.”

Keith turned his face away sharply. But he didn’t answer. 

“It’s late… we should turn in. All of this can wait until tomorrow.”

Shaking his head, wiping at his cheeks Keith tried to extricate himself. 

Lance waited to watch him fall apart again. But Keith didn’t need him to hold onto. He never had. “Keith, please, you can’t.”

“I can do whatever I damn well please,” his voice caught. But the tears didn’t come back. 

“Keith-”

“Stop that.”

Lance scrambled to his feet, reaching for his own well of anger, the one always so readily available for Keith. It wasn’t there. 

Keith pressed a finger into Lance’s chest. “I meant it. I have to find her. I will make her pay for this.”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?” Keith’s fury looked… deflated. It seemed his fury wasn’t quite as readily available either. 

“Because, like it or not, you’re part of this team, of voltron. And we’re not murderers. Red wouldn’t let you and if you won’t listen to me at least listen to her!” Lance gestured at Red, still on the floor, nose close beside Keith’s leg. “We’ll find her. We will. Us. Our team, your team. And we’ll turn her over to the blade. That’s what they sent you there for in the first place, right? So truss her up and drop her off on their front porch with a bow. Then, then you could stay.”

Keith froze. “What are you talking about?”

Lance swallowed. He hadn’t meant to say that part aloud. “You could stay. You don’t have to go back to the blade Keith. They’ve done all this to you. They forced you on that mission, made you-”

Jaw set Keith’s fists dug into his thighs. “I told you. Not forced. Wasn’t even part of the mission, not him. I told you. It’s my fault.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was recon. Just information. I wasn’t supposed to stay,” Keith looked down. The tears sounded just around the corner. “I was supposed to go after a couple weeks. I lied to them. I stayed…”

“For him.” Lance finished. 

Keith curled his arms tight around himself, shrinking. “His death is my fault. And I am going to make Imarr pay.”

Lance glanced behind him. No one in the door way. “Let’s go.”

Keith’s head snapped up. “What?”

“The two of us.”

Red growled, low in her throat. 

“Three of us,” Lance squared his shoulders. “We’ll find her. But we’re not killing her.”

Fighting a battle Keith finally gave in. One sharp nod. “Tonight. After the others are in bed. They don’t know.”

Lance’s turn to fight himself. But he saw the steel in Keith’s eyes. He’d be going with or without him. “Okay,” he agreed. Hand out he found Keith’s hand. “Okay. No leaving without me.”

“Okay,” Keith echoed. 

 

---

 

Lance knew they should be trying to sleep. He'd even say down on the bed. But with Keith beside him, slid to the very edge, elbows on his knees, face down, mouth pressed into a paper thin line Lance didn't dare move. He looked carved from marble. 

It didn't help that Keith hadn't moved a single muscle for what had to have been hours. 

Once redirected to his room Lance had gone out, assured Shiro and the others that Keith was fine he'd managed to slip away only with a promise of an update. 

Walking back in to see Keith exactly where he'd left him was comforting for only the barest of moments. Keith had kept his promise. But that didn't mean he was okay. 

Carefully, slow as a glacier, Lance slid in closer beside him. His insides curdled as Keith cringed away from him.

It didn't last long. 

After a split second Keith leaned into him, eyes closed, cheek on Lance's shoulder. 

Aching to do anything to comfort, to make it better Lance could feel his heart squeezing when he realized there was nothing he could do. "We… his voice trailed away, watching Keith's dead eyed gaze. "We should pack?"

"Pack?" Keith sounded a million miles away. 

"We're not expecting this to only take one night, right?"

"I suppose." His voice was ragged. 

Lance hated it.

"I can get that done. You should try and sleep."

Head back down, no longer leaning against Lance, Keith took up the position he'd had before. No lying down, no trying to relax, his muscles were wound into knots all over again. 

Lance didn't bother moving either. Desperately, he tried to think back to his own grief. Sure it had been his grandfather and he's been seven but he had learned something. There were stages. He couldn't remember any of them besides anger and depression. There also might have been shock but he didn't think that sounded right. 

Lance had seen Keith's anger. Anger seemed to be his default. He'd never seen Keith's depression. He didn't know how to handle it. But didn't that mean the anger was over?

Swallowing hard Lance cleared his throat. "Is this still something you want to do?"

Keith's glare was answer enough. 

Arms up Lance scooted away. "Got it. Got it. I just… we need a plan."

"We have one."

"We have a goal. A guideline maybe."

Keith glared again. 

Swallowing his own grin Lance gestured around at his slightly messy room. "We have a single lion and a comm line."

"And a possible location."

Lance blinked. "Since when?"

"I saw where she is over the comm line. I know that ship. It's not a full battle station. It's a traveler."

Standing, Lance faced him. "And you were going to tell me this when?"

"Little distracted."

Lance deflated. "Right."

"Bring dark clothes," Keith stood to face him, expression stoney. "We'll stop at the club outpost. I can get what I need from there. Imarr will have to either come herself or send someone we can follow."

"But I thought you said you had a location."

"Just because I know the ship doesn't mean I know where that ship is."

Lance ran a hand through his hair. He watched the shift. He'd seen it before. Keith's 'blade mode.' His soldier mode. He wanted to think it was better than the near comatose depression. He wasn't sure. Taking a deep breath Lance pressed on.

"Then why would you know she's going to the outpost?"

"She'll want V-" Keith's throat closed tight. "His things. With the absence of a body they'll take things he held dear and burn them in his honor."

The mask slipped for a split second, leaving Keith looking small. 

"I see," Lance ached to reach out. "You said she's in a traveler. Is it a fast ship?"

Keith nodded. 

"Then we should get going." He glanced at the time. Really he wanted to put it off, sit with Keith until he could put his head on straight. "It's late. If we're sneaking out, we're going now."

Chapter 14: Chapter Fourteen

Keith got into the Lion's bay first, Lance still scrambling with a backpack. But he'd promised not to leave him, not that he thought he could. 

He wasn't a pilot anymore. 

Stood before Red he looked up at her. He was still in the thin black clothes, though Lance had handed him his red jacket. He still held it in an absent fist. 

Taking a deep breath Keith set his forehead on her leg, closing his eyes. "What do I do now?" He whispered, hardly more than a breath. Quiet for a long moment he felt the low rush below his skin, the low growl. So familiar. No matter how long, Red would respond. 

"Told you."

Lance's voice almost scared him out of his skin. 

Whirling around Keith glowered. "What?"

"You're still a pilot."

Keith didn't answer. Six pilots. Five lions. 

"Let's just go."

Lance's face fell but he followed Keith in, setting down his bag. "Do you want to drive? You know the route better than I do."

"And Red knows it better than either of us." Keith waited in the corner of the room, setting his jacket on Lance's bag. "The coordinates haven't changed from two days ago. Let her guide you if you aren't sure."

Sitting down Lance looked back at Keith. "It will take us a couple hours at least. You should try and get some sleep. You've been up for almost twenty four hours."

Keith sat, head back, knowing it was useless. 

But still, Lance kept quiet as they moved. 

So much unsaid. So much to say without the words to say it.

Lance let the silence stretch. He'd done his best to comfort. He wanted to do more. But what comfort he could give wouldn't be enough, would never be enough. 

Why did that sting? 

Slumped in Red Lion's cockpit Lance watched the stars drift lazily by. 

"Do you remember telling me about the stars?" 

Lance watched Keith lift his head, face blank. 

"We were trying to form Voltron. We were moving fast and I said it looked like we weren't moving at all. Pidge trying to explain paralytics or something to me."

"Paralax," Keith laid his cheek on his folded arms. 

"Right," Lance glanced over his shoulder. 

Keith's face was hard to read. No longer scowling, not quite smiling. 

"Yeah," Lance slumped over his arm, chin on the side of the seat. "I was so sure you hated my guts."

"I did."

Lance pouted, sticking out his bottom lip as far as it would go. "What?"

"I was sure you didn't know what you were doing when we got here. You didn't take anything seriously and you just messed with everyone," Keith said flatly. 

"Hey!" Lance froze, catching the soft smile creeping in. "What's so funny?"

Keith shook his head. "I just needed time to see. I'm not good at letting people in and you got under my skin. So I hated you for it."

"And now?"

Smile vanished, head turned. 

Lance deflated. 

"Do you think you'd have ever talked to me if we didn't get stuck out here?"

Taking a moment Lance considered. It wasn't the words. Something was being implied. But he didn't know what. "I would."

Knees to his chest, arms still folded Keith looked back, brow lifted, waiting for the punch line. It didn't come. 

"I tried to before, in the academy. You had the best pilot scores. I wanted pointers. You ignored me. Which begs the question…"

Keith waited. 

"Would you have ever talked to me if we didn't get stuck up here?"

Turned away once more, Keith said nothing. 

"Oh," Lance whispered. 

Lost once more Lance looked up as the warning light flickered through the cockpit. 

"We're here," Lance stood and gathered his bags. He hadn't packed it very heavy but still he felt every ounce dragging on him. 

---

Finding a place to both land and hide Red took a while. Pidge and Shiro had found the previous place, a ware house beside the club, a place for visiting ships. They'd manage to block it off, hide them. But with that place half knocked over by said retreating Lions it was another thing to find somewhere new. 

Eventually, a knocked over apartment on the edge of town was sourced, scooting Red as close to the rubble as they could. Anyone who came around the wrong side would get a flash of the hind quarters but Keith hoped she would be as unrecognizable as possible. 

The second hurdle was getting through the crowd and to his safe house. 

Lance, head ducked, walking quickly at his side, kept getting distracted by the shops, the aliens, the languages being shouted behind them. But, stubbornly, Keith grabbed his hand and pulled. 

Finally pausing behind a dingy back door Keith leaned back, catching his breath. He'd been sure for a split second the purple Larock with the head covering had been a galra in disguise before catching sight of their dog-like snout. 

Only then did he realize he was still holding Lance's hand. Dropping it he turned to the door and crouched to pick the lock. 

Lance said nothing. He'd said nothing since landing. 

Keith knew why. He'd said something wrong. Or, rather, he'd said nothing and that had also been wrong. He was always doing things wrong around Lance. Swallowing back everything, Keith managed to get the door unlocked and slipped inside, taking Lance's wrist instead. 

Keith knew the halls by heart, and late into the morning, each and every member of the house was sleeping off their late night or stumbling by hardly conscious.

It wasn't a large place, three floors with a small makeshift living room of ripped, mismatched, and discarded club furniture making up most of the first floor. 

Keith almost stumbled as Lance paused, turning to glare, still held on. 

"Looks like my Tito's basement," Lance smiled. 

Ready for judgement of an upturned nose Keith paused, trying to imagine the messy space with kids toys, the tears lovingly sewn back together, the smell of food instead of sex and perfume. "Sounds cozy," Keith said softly. 

Lance slid Keith's hand from his wrist, winding their fingers together. "I'll take you sometime. Big bean bag party with the kids. Maybe we can finally expand your movie catalogue."

Keith rolled his eyes. "Just because I didn't have cartoons in the safe house does not mean I've never watched any movies."

"Lilo and Sitch. You haven't sent classics. You had westerns."

"Those are classics. By definition," Keith took him up the stairs. 

Snorting, Lance found a grin growing once more. He was still there. Grief was strong. Keith was stronger. It unhitched something underneath his ribcage. 

"You know-" 

Keith hushed him, pausing at the top step. 

Lance froze, head on a swivel, looking for danger. The last thing he expected was the tiny pink body to launch itself from the nearest door and wrap itself around Keith, squealing.

"Kira!" The shriek was so high pitched it almost made Lance's ears ring. "You're back! Everyone kept saying you'd been kidnapped and there was so much talk and I was so worried but you're back!" 

Lance had seen Pidge's surprise attacks, or Hunks. He'd seen the way the Keith froze in place, face blank until his supposed attacker backed off. But with the girl, who looked no more than sixteen if Lance had to guess, Keith crouched down and hugged her tight. 

"Celia," his voice modulator was back on. When had he managed that? 

The sound made Lance jump. 

Looking up with sparkling fuchsia eyes and lashes near as long as her entire face the girl practically vibrated. She wore a slinky nightdress almost the same shade of baby pink as her mottled skin. 

"Celia, deep breaths." Keith brushed a hand over her hair. "I'm here. I'm fine. I wasn't kidnapped. Well I was but-"

"What?!"

Keith hushed her but it was too late. 

Two heads popped out into the hall, a girl with green hair and skin and a polka dot sleep mask and a girl who might have been her twin if not for the blue corkscrew curls stuck up in every direction and an extra set of arms below the first.

"Kira!"

The first girl tossed her sleep mask aside, running to check Keith over, grabbing his arm and inspecting the bandaging. "That's going to have to come off before you go in tonight."

Lance gaped. Keith had vanished for two full nights and this girl was here judging his bandages? "Hold on he's not-"

Keith snapped around, hissing at Lance. But again it was far too late. 

All three alien girls whipped around with identical expressions of betrayal. 

"Kira!" the first girl squeaked.

"Are you serious? What is the first rule of-"

"Stop," Keith sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked like Keith, almost like Keith, other than the modulator. This is, it's complicated. Lance is a friend-" he turned on the blue corkscrew girl. "And not that kind."

"So he's free?" the polka dot-less mask girl turned to face lance with a winning smile. 

Lance waved, feeling his face flushing, 

Behind her Keith groaned again and tugged off the choker. "Tawney. Stop"

Once more the girls spun around. Celia froze, but she didn't move from her place, arms around him carefully loosening. 

Arms crossed tight across his own chest Keith looked at the floor. "I'm not going to work tonight, Bree. Not ever again. I, my name is Keith."

"Oh baby," the corkscrew girl, Bree, scooted in, her smile soft. "Loving the new name. But I mean, we all knew."

Keith blinked. 

Lance bit his lip. Maybe he really wasn't as good an actor as he pretended to be. 

"What?"

"I mean. You didn't know anything about make-up, or interest in it. You came here with only leggings and a tank top and your shoes… Well. Not to say those things make you a girl but really, I just assumed you needed the credits. No shame in that."

Keith pushed his fingers through his hair. "Is that why I got my own room?"

She bumped his hip. "A little bit."

Keith sighed, long and low. "I'm just here to get my things and then-"

"Kir- Keith?" Celia interrupted. "We, we heard about Vantock."

Frozen, the arms curled around himself curled ever tighter, Keith swallowed hard, face gone blank. "What?"

"A couple of scouts. They got the transmission last night. They, they bought a round for all the soldiers in the club," Celia's face fell, sorrow in those glittering pink eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Diving forward Lance took Keith's arm, pulling him from the circle of girls. "We're just here to get his stuff," Lance took charge, holding onto Keith's wrist. 

"And you are?" Tawney eyed him again, a quick scan up and down. 

"The name's Lance," he angled a grin at her 

"Lance," Keith hissed. 

Tawney waved them off, though her gaze lingered a second too long. "Do that then. Let me know before you go so we can have the room back. I don't like having empty space."

"I know," Keith gathered his composure. 

Tawney pushed Bree back toward their room, pausing only to wink at Lance. 

It was only then he saw her second lid closing vertically before the second lid. 

"If you do decide to stay, I book private rooms," Tawney waved. 

Bree caught the door frame and turned to face Lance. "And if you ever need anything-"

"I do," Keith stood straighter, shoulders squared. 

Lance lifted a brow. "You do?"

"Bree, can you cut my hair? I'm overdue."

Ducking under Tawney's arms she bounced, clapping happily. "Oh my happy stars! Yes!"

Chapter 15: Chapter Fifteen

Lance tried to ignore Tawney's eyes on his neck as he sat on a tiny uncomfortable stool, watching Keith at a vanity that wouldn't have looked out of place in a movie star's dressing room. Huge and wood with chipping paint and enough lights to blink you, Bree bounced around Keith with a pair of scissors in two of her four hands, and a comb in a third. "Okay, okay, okay, I don't know why you insist on leaving this," she brushed a free hand across the shag over the base of his head. "But it does suit you in an odd way."

Keith leaned forward on the creaking vanity and turned his head slowly. The shaggy black mullet was back, bangs styled out of his eyes, the hair around his ears only just long enough to rest at his shoulders. 

"Thank you, Bree," Keith stood, smiling at her. "For everything."

Sniffling, wiping at her eyes with the hand not currently holding something, Bree smiled back. "I'm going to miss you. We all are. Celia especially."

"You don't have to go," Tawney said, voice low, sitting on the bed in the corner. "Whatever your… name is. You do a good job here. And you can't tell me you weren't at least a little happy here."

Lance only managed to see Keith out of the corner of his eye. 

Keith's face fell. Stepping away from the mirror he shook his head. "It's complicated. But I really can't stay. I have things I need to do."

Tawney sighed. "Is it him?"

Lance held up his hands up in surrender. "I don't-"

"Yeah," Keith said. "It is."

Bree frowned. "But what about Vantock?"

"Not like that," Keith rolled his eyes. 

Lance tried not to take that personally. It didn't work. 

Tawney's lips pulled thin. "Then what? This the ass end of the universe crawling with soldiers at the end of a war. We're where they go to celebrate. There's nowhere else to go from here. No one with somewhere else to go chooses to be here ."

"Tawney," Bree whispered, a soft admonish, but not exactly a protest. 

Keith shrunk under the eyes on him. 

Lance tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Keith beat him to the punch. 

"You're right," Keith rolled his shoulders back. "No one chooses to be here. Come on, Lance."

"Keith!" Bree hissed. 

He didn't look back.

Door swinging open Lance felt the edge collide and saw the pink figure duck into the next room.

"You didn't have to do that," Lance stayed a full two steps behind Keith as he marched down the hall, pretending not to see the fuchsia gaze following them to the base of rickety wooden steps. 

"And what's the alternative?" Keith marched up the stair case two at a time. "'I've been here under cover trying to destroy the universe as you know it after leaving the fairytale team that is a giant lion robot?"

Lance opened his mouth, closed it. "
that does make it sound a bit dramatic."

"Exactly."
"So you just leave them thinking you're a massive dick?"

Reaching the second floor Keith continued their march to the end of a hall. They passed a few empty rooms on their way. 

"It's easier," Keith paused outside one of the last doors along the hall. "Easier than trying to explain."

Lance stood, watching him. 'Yeah. I know." He hadn't realized just how defeatist those words would sound until he'd spoken them. 

Stood, mirrored in the door frame, Keith said nothing, taking in every inch of Lance's face for a long moment. 

Lance listened to the old house creaking, leaning back against the thin wooden frame, wishing he was allowed to be closer, even a few inches away. "Would there… I mean, you don't ever seem to open up to anyone, hardly talk to anyone."

"No, I don't," Keith's gaze dropped, staring hard at the collar of Lance's shirt. 

"Would you ever… I mean, you should talk to someone."

"I used to. Shiro was a good listener."

Lance felt his face pinch. "Used to?"

"He left," Keith shrugged one shoulder. "He changed. I changed."

Lance swallowed. "I mean. I'm right here if you… In case you ever want to again."

Keith pushed a fraction of an inch closer. "I know. You said before."

"Did I?" Lance's mouth suddenly felt very dry. 

"Sort of."

Lance had wished to be closer. Hardly a breath apart he wondered why he'd ever wanted that. Keith close up was an atom bomb, crackling electricity. 

Looking back up Keith considered him. "What would I have to talk about?"

Lance swallowed hard. "A-Anything you want, about the academy, about the blade, Voltron, Vantock-" He knew he'd messed up before the name left his lips. 

The soft expression growing on Keith's face came crashing down, mask dropping with an almost audible snap. 

Pulling back he stepped into the dark room. 

"Keith-" Lance scrambled forward, tripping over his own foot. "I didn't mean that. You don't have to if you don't want to-"

"Good," Keith snapped. "I don't."
Lance swallowed the sigh, leaning against the wall. Pulling open the ratty curtain a fraction he peered out. The view almost took his breath away. 

He'd seen the planet twice as he'd come in. A dark dirty ball with an atmosphere of a tiny Vegas crossed with a trailer park. Lance wasn't sure they knew what soap was on the face of the whole teeny globe. But close up, more accurately on the second floor of the tiny dancer's apartment he was close enough to the club to see the people below. The sun had finally begun to rise. Though the light cycle wasn't long (something Pidge had explained to him and he'd promptly forgotten) he'd caught the place in the warm orange light. The sky above was a permanent sunrise into sunset, everything above orange and gold. Even the dirty buildings looked gilded. And across the street the club was the crown jewel, the lights and neon still on, flickering like fireflies. 

"Nice view."

Keith looked up from the ripped floorboards, pulling up a large duffle. "I guess. This room had the best view of the front and back entrance."

Lance let his gaze move down to the, still gross, road below. Half a dozen aliens he couldn't begin to describe walked past, heads down, a couple dragging wagons, one pushing what he swore was a Walmart shopping cart. But Keith was right. There was a clear view of the, momentarily locked and chained, front door and the small back entrance, door propped open and someone leaning out, a cigarette blowing blue smoke. 

Setting the bag down Keith pressed himself into the other corner of the window. 

Lance could see him only in the reflection of the glass. 

"I meant more the sky."

Keith looked up.

Even in the slightly grimy glass Lance could see his blood shot eyes, the way his shoulders sagged. "Keith?"

Their eyes met, if only in reflection. 

"You've been moving for almost two days now. If we're just up here waiting for Imarr-"

"If she comes it won't be until tonight. His things will have been moved to the storage lockers in the club once news of his passing was received."

He sounded like a mission file. Lance hated it. 

"Even better. You need sleep."

Keith turned away, crouching beside the duffle. "I'm fine."

"You are not," Lance turned from the window. With the blinds open the small room was cast gold and red. "I can't help if you don't talk to me, and I don't know everything but you are not fine!" He didn't shout, didn't let his boiling frustration build higher. 

Keith's shoulders dropped forward. 

It seemed he didn't have any anger left to summon. Not for Lance. 

Lance waited. He could wait. He could be patient. 

"I don't like talking. I don't like trying to explain. I never do it right when I try… and when I have the words it's the wrong time."

Lance scooted closer, sitting carefully at the other end of the long duffle bag, giving Keith the space to pull back. 

"You can't say it wrong with me."

"I can."

Lance bit his lip. "If, if you find the right words, will you tell me, even if it's the wrong time?"

Keith looked up, getting marginally closer, hand still on the duffle. "Do we have to talk?"

"As opposed to?" Lance was utterly frozen in place. 

Keith bit his lip. 

Not real. Not happening. The golden light was playing tricks on his brain. "You really should try to sleep," Lance quickly. 

Who was the one saying the wrong things again?

Keith dug the base of his palms into his eyes. "I don't sleep well alone."

"Never said you had to be."

The cot wasn't particularly big or comfortable, but Lance managed to curl himself around Keith, a makeshift person shaped blanket. And he hadn't been wrong. The moment they were properly tangled Keith's breathing went slow and heavy, body dropping into a heavy sleep. 

As the light shifted from a deep gold to a blood red Lance pushed his head up on his hand to watch Keith sleep. It hadn't been as hard as he'd feared to get him to lie down. Once Lance offered to be next to him Keith had practically pushed him into the cot. Moving carefully, hardly daring to, Lance brushed a stray lock of hair out of Keith's face, smiling as he mumbled something and turned over, face against Lance's chest. 

"Vantock?" Keith murmured.

Lance didn't even dare to breathe. 

Keith slipped further out of reach. 

Chapter 16: Chapter Sixteen

Keith woke slowly, warm, not exactly comfortable but at least cozy. The arm draped atop him didn't curl around his waist. He wasn't quite out of it enough to forget who he was laid next to. Though he was, perhaps, tired enough to enjoy it. 

He'd accepted Lance's offer, selfishly. He knew Lance had offered it selflessly. And Keith was using him. 

Closing his eyes, Keith forced his breathing to stay steady. 

He tried to imagine lying there with someone else. 

But how many of those nights with that someone else had he wished he'd been lying there with Lance?

Teeth grit he turned away, sliding carefully out from underneath his grip. 

He only gave himself a split second to turn, to look and see. Lance looked like a dream of a dream in the dark red light peeking in through the holes in the curtains. 

Keith tore his eyes away 

On the floor he reached for his bag. He knew the planet well enough to know the blood red meant the day was coming to a close, night creeping in. They'd slept too long. He could only blindly hope that the club wouldn't let Imarr in outside of work hours. Zarkon himself could have stood at the doors and the guard would have refused him. 

Still, he could feel his stomach twisting. 

Unzipping the bag as quietly as he coil he looked down to the contents he knew well. On one side was a mess of makeup and lashes and, no matter what he'd told Lance, a few hair extensions. The other side was a neatly folded blade uniform. 

He went still, hand on the smooth black fabric. Insulated, secured, armored. It was steady, sure. 

"Keith?"

Whipping around he watched Lance, half awake and bleery eyed, sitting up, digging a palm into the side of his head. 

"Right here."

Lance smiled. 

It shouldn't have hurt. 

Lance yawned hugely, stretching out. "What time is it?"

"Time to get ready."

That woke him up. Sitting straight he looked up toward the window. "Do we have a plan?"

Keith fingered the strap of the bag, his other hand on the blade uniform. "Ideas only. You're the planner here."

Struggling to hide his smirk Lance slid down and sat next to him. "I have a goal, a guideline maybe."

Keith rolled his eyes, hitting his shoulder. His gaze never shifted from the bag. 

"Ideas?"

"Quick in and out. Wait in the wings where you and Pidge were stationed. We see Imarr, we knock her out, we go."

Lance pursed his lips. "Sounds too simple."

"It is. There is too much space, too many people, too many variables. We don't know if she'll have soldiers with her. Which is why the second is I do in as Kira and we wait in the private rooms with Vantock's personal things. We wait for Imarr to come in. You ambush her while I distract. Less cameras. Enclosed area."

"Still a chance for soldiers."

"Only one guest is allowed in the private rooms at a time."

Lance stuck out his bottom lip. "I don't count?"

"I can sneak you in." Keith tore his eyes away, leaning back against Lance's arm. 

"So," Lance stayed still, hardly daring to breathe lest Keith turn skittish again. "You have a preference?"

Keith's smile was hardly a flicker. "Will you be able to stay objective around Kira this time?"

Doing his best not to sputter Lance slapped a hand across his chest. "Wha- me? What? I would never. I've been fine."

Keith turned, knelt in front of Lance, sliding his arms up and around Lance's neck, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Mhmm, sure," he said flatly. 

Lance's voice shriveled in his throat. "I…" He squeaked. 

Lifting a brow Keith waited for him to finish. One hand slid into Lance's hair absently, winding a strand around his finger. "You've been weird around me since I came back. You keep saying I've changed, that you're here for me. But what if, what if I don't want to talk?" 

Keith tried to slam on the breaks. There was something wrong with his mouth. There was something about being in his tiny safe house, where he'd managed to split himself so perfectly into thirds, into the Voltron pilot he left behind, the blade soldier and to Kira were coming back together, painfully weaving themselves into his skin. There was something about Lance that always made him feel like an idiot. He didn't know which part of himself was winning. All he knew was that he didn't want to move, didn't want to get off of Lance's lap. 

Lance for his part was sure he must have still been asleep. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. Keith didn't… wasn't like this. 

"Don't want to talk?" Lance managed, voice coming out as a frantic squeak. 

Not daring to speak, to ruin it again by not knowing what to say Keith moved in closer, mouths a fraction apart, chest to chest. 

Last chance to turn him away, last chance to say-

"No."

Keith opened his eyes, heart hammering so fast he was sure it was cracking his ribcage. "No?"

Lance pulled every word out by force, hating it but needing to say it. "That's right. You're not, this isn't… I won't stand in as your second choice. I can be your friend, Keith, but I won't… not this."

Keith nodded, face blank. Rolling off his lap he reached into his bag for a tiny piece of black fabric. "Get out."

Lance blinked. "Wh-what?"

"Out. I need to change."

"Keith!"

Before Lance had any more chance to argue he was shoved out into the hall, hearing a heavy lock click behind him. 

"Took you long enough."

"Wha-" Lance froze in place. He had taken off his shoes and jacket for his nap. With hair mussed and is cheeks several shades of scarlet he turned to face the voice. 

Tall and lithe in a glittery green body suit the green girl stood before him. "You heard me."

Lance flushed darker. "T-Tawney, right?"

She offered half a nod. 

Lance tugged down the hem of his shirt. "What do you mean?"

Tawney stepped forward Her platforms made him a good three inches taller than him and with lined eyes drawing out her thin eyes, and the glitter across her skin pulling her mouth to a sharp frown Lance felt suddenly like he was stood before a very glittery velociraptor. 

"You know what I am?"

Lance shook his head, convinced he'd see fangs any moment. "My species was all but wiped out by the galra because of the one thing we can do very well. Telerins can read emotion."

She was so close, Lance swallowed down his rising feelings, or tried to. He watched her green gaze follow the motion down his throat.

Tawney's lips pursed. "And the thing about the few humans I've come across is that your emotions bleed out your every pore. When Ki-Keith came to us he was heart broken, closed off, torn up."

Lance 's suppressed emotion was thrown out the window as his concern rose up his throat like bile. "Who hurt him?"

"You."

Lance felt only more off kilter. "But-"

Tawney snapped her fingers. 

Lance shut up. 

"The other thing I've learned about humans is how very good you are at lying. But you lie to yourself. I will watch emotions scrawl across your skin only to be lied to. And they've believed the lie each and every time. It's why I'm in charge around here. I know when my girls are getting too close. I watched Keith dive head first into the arms of the first person who treated him well. I know what it looks like, I know how it ends."

Lance opened his mouth. "I-I don't-"

Tawney leaned back, oppressed into the doorway, arms clenched over her chest. "The other thing I've seen about humans is how utterly dense they are. So I will spell it out for you plainly. You feel for him, the way he feels for you. And if you deny that he will go to the next Vantock. You sent him into his arms and if you do not-- how did the last human phrase it--  grow some balls, you'll drive him further."

Lance considered, brows drawn tight. "What I don't know how I feel?"

Tawney rolled her eyes. "Humans," she hissed. 

At a loss Lance was ready to shake her for answers when the doors opened. Lance turned on a dime. Not the thigh high slit or the fluffy innocent black lace. 

Hair up, makeup simple, no lipstick, hardly any blush. He wore a dress in shifting silver, up to his knees in the front and shifting behind him. On every square inch were miniscule diamonds. 

Keith looked like starlight. 

Lance held utterly still, not realizing his mouth had fallen open. 

Keith walked up, face drawn down, his heels once more making him a fraction of an inch taller than Lance. 

"Wh- Keith, you-"

"Imarr is here," Keith said flatly. 

"She- what?"

Brushing past him Keith took the stairs, duffle over his shoulder. "Let's go."

"Keith! Hold on!"

Nearly to the door he almost slid out without him before Lance grabbed his wrist. "Keith. Wait. We need to go over the-"

"We'll go in. We go up to the private booth with Vantock's things. We wait."

"But how do you know she's-" 

Keith wrenched his wrist out of Lance's grip, turning to face him, eyes dark. 

Lance took a step back, swearing he saw his pupils slit for a split second. "Keith. Just slow down. How do you know she's here?"

"I watched her ship land. Out by the field. Don't ask how I know. I know. She's going to make a bee line for the club. We do not have time to wait. Move."

"Right," Lance dipped around him to hold the door open. "You um, you look-"

Keith actually hissed at him. "Don't you dare finish that sentence. Not now."

Lance shut himself right up. He didn't know what he would have said. Nice didn't cover it. A vision? Keith might have bitten his head off for it. And what was that 'not now' about anyway?

Chapter 17: Chapter Seventeen

Lance knew he did have good sense. He just chose when to use it. Pidge had once said his brain cells were in short supply and had to be used sparingly. Keith had laughed. Lance wished Keith would laugh again. 

But Lance did have enough good sense to keep his mouth shut as Keith slid them in through the escape tunnel they had gone through only a few days prior. 

It felt like a lifetime ago. 

Keith left his bag in the entrance, forcing Lance to crawl over it. 

"Are we staying here?"

"No. Upstairs." Keith didn't look at him. With only the faint light above Lance through Keith looked ever more ethereal. 

"Keith wait."

Turning on his heel Keith's face was murderous. "I told you. I don't want to talk."

"Not that," Lance flushed. Even the anger looked good on him. "I mean, I, it's just-"

"What?"

"Your zipper slipped."

Keith froze, adjusting his shoulder. The zipper had slid halfway down his back during the crawl. Swearing he tried to reach around, the single strand draping sleeves kept him from reaching. 

"I've got it."

Lance stood behind him, carefully zipping Keith back up. 

"Thank you."

The word was so soft Lance was sure he'd imagined it. "You um, welcome. I don't know how well this works for combat though."

Keith pushed forward. "Don't usually have to reach behind me when running someone through with a knife. 

Lance laughed. 

Keith didn't. 

"You're kidding, right?"

Turning around Keith just smirked. 

"Keith?" Lance hissed, without the chance to ask more. Keith pushed out into the club. 

It looked different pre-work hours. There was hardly anyone on the semi-cleaned floor, only two guys in loose work clothes, one scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the long wooden bar, the other leaning back, speaking in a language Lance didn't recognize. 

Keith didn't give them a second glance.

Lance followed quickly, keeping his head down. He hoped they'd be inconspicuous. 

"Kira!"

He didn't get his wish. 

Keith paused, stood in front of Lance, and watching the man who had been leaning back headed toward him. He looked a bit like Santa, if Santa had been drawn by an impressionist artist. He had the big white beard, long hair pulled up into a long silver glinted ponytail. He was even Santa Claus shaped, but the man was in bright purple, his collar not fuzzy but spiky, like someone had skinned a hedgehog. but the thing that set him apart was the deep pink skin and eyes in vastly different places, one on his cheek and the other on his forehead. 

"Davey."

Lance blinked. "Really?" he whispered.

Keith smacked his arm without looking.

Davey smiled, his mismatched gaze landing on Keith. "Good to hear you're back. After what happened with those soldier characters-"

Trying to wave it away Keith smiled. "Don't worry about all that."

"I want you to know I ain't docking your pay for the last couple of days. Tawney already called earlier, said you'd been taken."

Feigning relief Keith slid an arm through Lance's. "Don't say that in front of the clientele, Davey. They'll think I'm some kind of flight risk," he leaned forward and said in a stage whisper. "And he wants a private room tonight."

Davey's face crumpled in what Lance could only assume was concern. "You sure you're up for that? I heard about Vantock."

Turning away Keith made a show of gripping Lance's arm, face tight. "I just, can I get his stuff sent up? I want a chance before-"

"Of course." Davey turned to face Lance. 

Lance had his arms up instantly. "Not what you think. I'm a friend from a long time ago. I'm paying to give him a day off is all I swear."

Davey relaxed, nodding once. "We'll have the bag sent to the first suite. You have a good drink and try to take it easy tonight."

Keith's smile was grateful, not only to Davey. With a quick breath of thanks and their drink order Keith dragged Lance upstairs. "Quick thinking," Keith said reluctantly. 

"Why do you sound so surprised," Lance pretended to be insulted. 

Dragging him into a long hallway Keith ducked into the first on the left. 

Lance looked up and around. More thick red curtains around a circular room, twice as big as the booth he'd been taken to the first time. A circular booth sat in one corner, just big enough for two. But what took up most of the room was an, also circular, bed. Huge, blood red sheets and black velvet comforter. The lighting was dim, the music soft. 

The entire scene froze Lance in his place. He'd known the club had the upstairs room. He'd seen the blueprints before the mission. But never had he imagined…

Keith glanced over his shoulder, lifting a brow. "Lance?"

"It's a bit, er," Lance waffled for the right words. 

Snorting Keith slid into the booth, leaning an elbow the table. "I never thought you'd be the prude of the two of us."

Lance flushed an even deeper red. "I am not!" he squawked. 

Keith's smile was incredibly soft. "Mhmm."

Unwilling to risk anything that shifted that smile Lance crossed his arms and slid into the booth beside him. 

Keith didn't pull away. Taking a slow deep breath he laid his head on Lance's shoulder. 

Lance didn't dare breathe. 

"I didn't love him."

Keith's declaration was almost too quiet to hear.

Lance didn't know how to answer. He'd seen it with his own eyes. Tawney was right, humans lied to themselves too much. 

"You said I keep making you my second choice. I'm not trying to push that on you. I mean-" Keith pushed his fingers into his hair. 

Carefully Lance took his hand and began to unwind the black strands. Once Keith was freed he didn't let go. "I know. I'm just-"

"Jealous?"

Lance scowled.

Keith imitated him, sticking out his bottom lip. 

"I know I'm not being fair. I know how much time you've spent alone. You just found someone to hold onto. And when you couldn't hold onto him, well when you came back I mean. I was the nearest warm body to hold onto, the one to replace him while he was locked up." Lance looked down, trying desperately to tamp down what could only be jealousy. 

Keith was quiet for a long moment, gaze on their linked fingers. "When I first met him," Keith began slowly, like he was cherry picking each and every word. "When I first introduced myself to Vantock I was playing a character, all dolled up for the first time, and imitating the sleazy fake version of who I thought he wanted. I made sure each touch and word was an open invitation. So when he didn't immediately take me to bed I was sure I was doing something wrong." 

Lance listened in silence, unsure where Keith was going. 

"So I tried harder, turned into a worse actor than I already am. I finally got him alone and, and he asked if this was what I wanted." Keith closed his eyes. "That was when I was when I thought I was sure I loved him."

Lance's stomach sank. 

"He was so gentle, about everything. And he said something to me I can't forget, his words over and over in my head. And, and it wasn't fair to him but I never heard it in his voice." Keith was so close, Lance's lips nearly against his fingertips, each breath brushing the few hairs across the back of his hand. 

"What did he say?" Lance whispered, not daring to break thier small quiet.

"'If we're going to do this we're going to be on the same page, be a team. I think we'd make a good team."

Lance let that sink in. 

"I don't know if you remember," Keith flushed slowly. 

"I do."

Keith smiled, a cautious nervous expression. 

Lance had never seen Keith smile like that. It twisted his gut tighter, in new and confusing directions. "Did, did he say anything else?"

"I needed to be honest with him, to talk to him." The smile was gone, something hollow behind his eyes. "I don't regret much about my time with him. But I wish I had been honest."

Lance slid an arm around Keith, hand on the small of his back. "I don't think you could have been. Not for the sake of the mission. You needed information. If he'd known about voltron, that you were a pilot-"

Keith shook his head. "Not about that. He knew that by the end, that I'd used him, who I was."

"Then… what?"

"He said he loved me."

Lance waited, still unsure. 

"He loved me and I didn't…"

"You don't have to lie to me Keith," Lance swallowed. They were pressed in so close. Keith was practically on his lap. Lance felt things slot into place. Humans lied to each other. But maybe because the truth was terrifying. "You loved him. It's okay."

"I didn't!"
In one quick motion Keith was atop Lance's lap, knees straddling him, the fire back in his face, wild and warm and alive. 

"Keith, I-"

"I didn't love him. I used him. I used him as a body double, a replacement for the person I wanted to be with, the person I couldn't be with. I used him and I made him love me and that makes me," his voice cracked. "It makes me someone not deserving of his love, of the lion's loyalty of, of… you."

Oh. 

Oh.

"You love… me?" Lance squeaked. 

Keith nodded, almost miserably. He looked away, tried to get up. 

Lance caught his arm. "Hold on."

"You don't have to lie to me," Keith refused to look up, echoing his words with a sharp venom. "I know you, I saw how you are with girls. The only time I've ever been able to get you to look at me was when I look like this." He gestured at the dress, the hair. "It was nice though, making you speechless for once."

Lance wouldn't, couldn't, say anything wrong. He couldn't afford to mess up. "It's not the only time I've looked."

Keith did look at him then, his heart almost visibly ripping itself apart, Keith drifting away even as Lance held on. "I wouldn't have, if we didn't get stuck up here. You asked before."

"But we are here," Lance pulled him in by the small of his back, each move slow, careful. "And if all of this means I'm here, with you, then, then I don't know. I think it's pretty worth it."

Keith put a hand under Lance's chin, bringing them face to face. "That's the best you've got?"

Lance blinked. 

"All the pick up lines in the world and you go for that?"

Lance gaped. 

"I take it back. I'm not the one who can't say the right things. No wonder you haven't pulled anyone else."

"I got you, didn't I?"

It was Keith's turn to frown. 

Before he could think of anything else Lance bridged the few inch gap. 

And Keith didn't pull back. Melting against him Keith slid a hand into Lance's hair, his sigh caught between them. "Always have," Keith agreed.

"Keith?"

Keith's head snapped up, color draining. "V-Vantock?"

Notes:

:)

Chapter 18: Chapter Eighteen

"Vantock?" Keith turned, the heavy curtain behind him shifted to the side. He was in a dream, a nightmare, somewhere he couldn't tell up from down, fiction from reality. 

He was dead. Keith had watched the ship blow up with his very own eyes. 

But there he was, without a scratch, in a real soldiers uniform. Less than a day but he looked older, his face pulled into a tight frown. 

"Keith. What are you doing?"

"You're alive." Keith was locked in place.

"Keith, what's going on? Who…" Vantock's voice wavered. He stepped into the dim room's light. "In our room?"

Mouth opening Keith was sure his tongue had shriveled up. 

In the light Vantock fell into sharp relief. The uniform was brand new, custom fitted. Red shoulders and the crimson logo emblazoned like a brand. He'd been healed in the castle. But there were new marks, pale cuts along his cheeks, creeping up under the neck of the uniform, and the way he held his shoulders was too familiar. Whipping. 

But no sign of- "I saw you blow up!" Lance interrupted, incredulous.

"You really believe I'd have my own brother killed?" 

Keith's head snapped up.

Imarr rounded behind her brother, hand on his shoulder. Taller than vern Vantock, the screen did little justice for the figure cut before them. Full uniform, face pulled into an unreadable smile, Imarr patted Vantock's shoulder lightly.

Vantock winced.

"After all the trouble I went through before I have ways of protecting those whom I wish to be kept alive. There are reasons to keep prisoners occasionally. The galra have perfected the art of interrogation. If there's something to gain from them."

Vantock's wince was worse at that.

Stepping forward, instinct driving him, Lance had to catch Keith's wrist. 

Eyes flicking down Vantock's crumpled face twisted tighter. "Get your hands off of him!" Lance had his bayard in his hand before he could think, arm outstretched. Too close to Vantock's face.

"No!"

The shot went off. 

Vantock snarled, diving forward, grabbing the collar of Lance's shirt

They toppled. 

Scrambling on the floor Keith felt an elbow to the face, a body atop him. He didn't know where to turn. Neither of them could get hurt. Shoved away hard, Keith would have cracked his skull if not for the plush carpet. 

Dragging him up and off his feet Vantock lifted Lance up with one hand. Underneath his fingers Lance could hear threads ripping, feel his heart slamming against his ribcage, shaking the barrel of the gun pressed into his sternum. Lance panted, frozen in place, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Vantock stared up at him with crazed anger.

"Vantock!" Keith grabbed his arm, gun displaced a fraction of an inch. "Let him go! This isn't about him. He's no one. He's-"

"I saw you!" Vantock's voice tore, fist winding tighter. 

Lance gasped, fingers scrambling uselessly. 

"It's not what you think." Keith couldn't think. Lance was losing color. Tugging fruitlessly at Vantock's arm he was terrified to find steely muscle. He knew Vantock was strong, but not like this. Something was different, something was wrong. 

Imarr slid an arm around Keith's neck in a split second, snatching his back and away, wrenching Keith's wrist from his hold. The second gun pressed into the small of Keith's back, just out of Vantock's sight. 

Holding him in place, Imarr's chin dug into his temple. "One move and your brand new boyfriend gets it," she breathed into his ear. 

"Imarr."

But it wasn't Keith bargaining. 

Stuck, Vantock's tortured expression finally flickered, mouth falling open. For a split second Keith saw the Vantock he knew. 

"Imarr, you told me you wouldn't hurt hi-her," Vantock said, finger trembling on the trigger. 

Lance whimpered. 

"Shut up," Imarr's voice was not harsh, not angry. As always the cold calculations could almost be seen behind her eyes. Head tilting a fraction she spoke gently, like one would to a child. "I know about our dear Kira. I did not become who I am today without gaining some observational skills."

Keith swallowed, feeling the motion against Imaar's forearm. Vantock, even after it all, hadn't told her. 

Fingers winding into his hair, Imarr pulled Keith's head back sharply, looking up at Vantock, pressing his chest against  Vantock's side, forcing him to look up at him, unable to look away. "I don't know how much they let you see after kidnapping and imprisoning you," Imarr placed careful emphasis on her words. "But 'Kira' is not only a traitor to the galra race. This scum is a traitor to everything. The empire, to you. He is a pilot of voltron." Imarr's smile was wicked, a hiss in the back of her throat. 

"I, I know."

For the first time Imarr's expression twisted. "What?"

Vantock's arm trembled, Lance dropping a fraction of an inch, toes frantically scrambling on the floor. "I knew."

"He told you, and you kept this from me?" Imarr's ears slid down and back, the fingers in Keith's hair tight enough to rip. 

Keith bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound. 

Shaking his head frantically Vantock tried to move back, away from where his sister still held Keith against him. His leg hit the edge of the bed."No! No. He didn't tell me. Shiro, the other pilot, did. I told you, they took me from my room, they healed me in one of their pod things, they told me about who they were, their mission."

"Pod," the word was little more than a whisper. 

Keith knew immediately what she'd caught. 

Vantock didn't. "They told me he was a traitor, a pilot. But, but I don't know. They don't want to wipe out the galra, or they said they didn't. They said they want peace. If you spoke to him, to the emperor, we might-"

"Traitor!"

Outside the thick curtain Keith felt more than heard the slow rumbling, the base picking up, the club opening. 

Imarr's anger drove her forward again. Vantock had nearly dropped Lance, giving him enough purchase to kneel on the bed, managing small gasping breaths. 

Keith needed time. "You say he's a traitor when you let him be taken by the enemy," Keith spoke without thinking, the words bypassing conscious thought. "You know how he is, easy to trick. I managed it, didn't I?"

The barrel dug deeper into his back. 

Keith grit his teeth. 

"Kira," Vantock shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Convinced of anything told to him, no matter what kind of lie. Just like that one," Keith managed a small jerk of his chin toward Lance, feeling more hair ripping. Just another person to take to Voltron."

Vantock's fist ripped into the collar of Lance's shirt, tearing long holes. His lips were going blue, struggling growing weaker. 

Lance choked. "Keith- what-"

"Shut up!" Vantock said, anger quickly draining, replaced with confusion. Rounding on Keith his eyes flared. "He was already there. I saw you with him before."

Keith rolled his eyes. Not a good actor. Maybe good enough. "Oh great. You know enough to recognize him. Good job. Maybe you are smarter than he is after all. He's a prop to get the room, to get your sister here. I didn't bargain on her actually being too much of a traitor to just kill you. Two on two doesn't quite work if both our companions are-"

Whirling him around, Imarr smacked him hard into the wall, the gun dug into the soft underside of his jaw. Keith saw stars, arm jammed behind him too hard to move, bent the wrong direction. 

"Imarr!" 

Distracted, Vantock let go, dropping Lance to the bed. 

Dropping like a stone, Lance couldn't lift his head. Only when he managed a slow wheezing breath did Keith let himself breathe. Alive. Too out of it to do much else but alive. 

Vantock stood behind his sister, gripping her wrist. "You told me you wouldn't hurt him!"

She didn't react, either ignoring or actually unable to hear beyond the blood rushing in her own ears. "You dare insinuate I am a traitor? Me? I am on of Emperor Zarkon's highest-"

"And does the high and mighty Zarkon know you've been hiding the army's greatest shame out here?" Keith snarled. "Deserters are executed. The galra empire before all else, and that includes family. If you were the soldier you say you were then you would've let him blow in that ship. He's a liability."

Imarr dug the gun sharper into his jaw, shutting him up. "It is not your place to question me, whore!"

"Don't call him that," Vantock tried desperately to get her away. "Imarr you said you wouldn't hurt him!"

Imrr sneered, gaze never wavering from Keith's own, inches from his face. "You are right, I suppose, bout one thing. He does believe the lies."

"Imarr, wha-"

Keith spat. 

Pulling back sharply, Imarr hit him in the face with the butt of her weapon. 

Keith dropped. If he thought he'd seen stars before it was nothing. Vision blacking out he heard a scuffle, raised voices. His arms were too heavy. Something thick and warm flowed across his cheek. 

"-promised!" 

"They know too much! Do you think I can keep you alive after another mistake if let the half breed traitor live? Did you think you would whisk some dumb little thing away to be your bedmate at the next wretched hole I shove you in? I'm keeping you alive. I don't care about-"

"I do! I care about him."

"After you found him with that twit? If he hadn't distracted you the boy would be dead and we'd be out of here by now! My crew won't wait forever and they won't buy a new shipmate with your uniform!"

Keith couldn't understand the words. 

"Imarr, please-"

"No! Enough! We're leaving."

Painfully, slowly, Keith lifted lids that must have weighed a thousand pounds. Far away and above him two figures wavered. The first, the taller, shoved something into the other's hand. 

"No loose ends. That one first. Then your whore. I'll get you a better one, a pure blooded one this time."

"Imarr…"

"Shut up!"

Keith blinked. There was something wet in his eyes. Despite it he could see. 

Vantock. With a gun. Arm shaking he pointed it, not at Keith himself, but at the bed.

"No," Keith wanted to scream the words, but couldn't manage a croak. Head still swimming he tried to force himself up. 

He wouldn't do this, couldn't do this, not Vantock, not his Vantock, and not to-

"Lance!" 

A weak cough.

World spinning around him Keith grabbed the curtain behind him to pull himself up. Not enough strength, not enough time. So he dove. 

The gunshot. The fire was somewhere too close to his heart. Real or imagined? 

So much screaming.

Ragdolled on the edge of the mattress Keith turned his head. Lance on the bed, framed by gaudy pink pillows, only just coming to. It hadn't been enough. Just changed the order of Vantock's victims.

All the words never said dripping off his lips with his own blood Keith slid off the bed and to the floor. 

At least Lance's face would be the last thing he saw.

 

Notes:

oopsie. lil late, re wrote this about a million times. hope you enjoyed. :)

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading! Hopefully I'll be posting it all very quickly, as most of this was pre written and has a pretty solid outline.

If you're reading this during the holidays I hope the power of awkward Klance saves you from a boring christmas ;)

I love comments, whether they be long winded, keysmashes or anything inbetween!