Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron or associated stuff.

Spoilers: This is set in the new Voltron Force series canon, after 'Ghost in the Lion' or thereabouts.

Rating: T for language and adult content. If any M rated fun happens, it will be noted in individual chapters.

Pairing: Lance/Allura. They don't get enough love. From each other, specifically.

Summary: After an unexpected moment at a ball, Lance and Allura face some changes in their relationship.

"Princess! I've been looking for you!"

Allura schooled her features into her best diplomatic smile, only to be disappointed when she turned. It wasn't an ambassador or government official she couldn't in good conscience avoid, but one of the insufferable princes she'd been attempting to escape. "Oh, Prince…" Her brain froze and she instinctively searched for Coran to come to her aid with a timely whisper in her ear, but he was barely visible in the dense crowd near the refreshments on the other side of the ballroom. She would have to get out of this one on her own. If only she could remember something other than what an awful dancer the young man was. "Prince…"

A dip in his overlong epaulettes accentuated the droop of his shoulders when he had to say himself, "Ajax. Prince Ajax of the…"

"Qirillian Empire," she finished, somewhat relieved as the rote learning came back in a rush. His father was the squat man in the ostentatious uniform who had given an unwelcome and overly long toast at dinner. He was ruler of a distant, minor region bordering an Arusian ally's territory, only recently gaining enough importance to merit an invitation to a ball on Arus, at least according to the information Coran had given her to memorize for tonight. They were suppliers of…some mineral. Perhaps she needed to spend more time on Coran's briefings. "Prince Ajax, of course. I apologize." She took a deep breath and shifted from her diplomatic smile to her pseudoflirty smile. "I was just stepping outside for a breath of fresh air. I find it gets very stuffy in here when one has been dancing."

"I would be honored to escort you on a turn about the garden. I had so hoped to spend a private moment with you, Princess."

"Oh. Oh, that's…kind of you. But perhaps you…" You could go away. Her eyes darted around, looking for an excuse. She finally lit on the tray of a passing steward. "You could get me something to drink while I step out."

"What would you…"

She settled her hand on the prince's forearm for a moment. "Surprise me."

He reddened and puffed out his chest. "I will not fail you, Princess!"

He dove into the crowd and she slipped out the door into the gardens. The night air was cool against her flushed skin. She really had done a considerable amount of dancing, as her sore feet could attest. The reentry of Arus into the favored ranks of the Galaxy Alliance had involved too many of these time-consuming events. She would almost welcome an attack like the one Lotor had perpetrated during the Galactic Music Festival. Almost.

Hearing voices from the bench she knew was around the next corner, she turned between two tall hedges. She swore under her breath as she stepped off the path and her heel sank into the soft soil. Her curse was louder as she realized she was about to fall into a flowerbed in her ball gown. At the last moment, someone caught her from behind. She was back on firm if springy ground a moment later. In spite of the fact that her rescuer had yet to remove his hands from her hips, she said, "Thank you."

"That's better. Before, wow. Such improper language for a princess. You're lucky I didn't faint from the shock before I could grab you."

Her lack of alarm at the continued contact was explained the moment the sarcastic speech began. She nearly lost her balance again as she spun, but Lance had yet to let go. She swatted at his chest. "I probably learned it from you."

"Nah, you only use ones that bad in the Lions." He stepped back with a laugh and held out his arm, which she took gratefully as they picked their way through the grass back to a stone path. He touched his insignia and medals in a perfunctory manner. "Tell me you aren't here to drag me back in there."

"I wasn't, but now I may. You must have been hiding out here all night, because I've barely seen you, in spite of the crowd of eligible debutantes. Keith is suffering alone."

"Hey, I'm doing him a favor! Without me around to distract the ladies, he'll be more likely to find somewhere he'll want to stick his blazing sword."

He grinned as she gave him another swat before settling on the rim of one of the more secluded fountains. "At the very least, you have to come back inside to dance. You always let me have one."

"Huh." He plopped down beside her. "And here I thought you were the one doing me the favor."

"Not at all, every time I can dance with one of you guys it saves me from a prince. Some of them are just boring, others think they can put their hands wherever they want."

Lance became unexpectedly serious. "Need me to remind them how they should be behaving with you?"

"I can handle it. But thank you."

He frowned for a moment longer, but nodded. "Guess now I have a reason to come back in, anyway. I did stay inside earlier long enough to make it to the kitchens." He pushed up his sleeve and reached under the water to pull out a bottle of champagne, one she recognized from a case specially delivered that afternoon on a GA ship with some other Earth delicacies. "I was heading back from letting it chill when I found you uttering profanities in the roses."

"That was supposed to be for the ball!"

"Waste of the good stuff if you ask me. Seeing as very few in there would appreciate it, I may have pushed the crate it came from to the back of the pantry. Watch out."

"Oh!" She jumped slightly as the cork flew into the bushes with an audible pop, but Lance was suddenly steadying her with a hand on her waist.

"I didn't think I'd be sharing, so I didn't think to bring any glasses."

"So how are we supposed to…" She rolled her eyes as he took a long swig directly from the bottle. "Naturally."

"Hey, you've been the proper princess all night in there. Live a little."

She pursed her lips, but accepted the bottle. "This better not be like that Scotch you made me try…"

"Not at all. Bottoms up."

She lifted the bottle to her lips and took an experimental sip. The bubbles were unexpected, but the taste was pleasant. "It's like sparkling Arusian wine." She tipped the bottle again.

"What, like I'd ever let you…" His hand was suddenly under her chin, just as she felt a little dribble from the corner of her mouth. "Whoa, don't go crazy, now."

She made an effort to swallow before wiping her chin. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize to me. I'm sure someone would find a reason to yell at me if you stained the dress, though." He took the bottle from her and tipped it to his own lips. She watched his throat bob as he took a long drink. His eyes cut toward her and she realized she was staring. The ground was suddenly very interesting. She heard him gulp twice before saying, "It's good. Not high on the alcohol content, but good."

"Hm."

He silently passed the bottle back to her and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his uniform. "I think maybe these formal Voltron Force uniforms need a redesign."

"I think you look handsome. All of you," she quickly added before taking another sip from the bottle. "Keith is certainly popular tonight."

"Well, that's true of any ball. I think it's because people'd notice if he tried to escape. Besides, being choked to death by your dress whites is something of a military tradition."

She neglected to mention that at least five of the available princesses had been asking after him. "Like you wouldn't just wear your flight suit and leather jacket if given the option."

"Like you wouldn't? Well, not the jacket, but…you know." He took the bottle back, but didn't drink. "For the record, I am a fan of the dress. I always appreciate the flight suit but…" he looked her up and down admiringly, "yeah. Very hot."

She took the compliment as sincere for the first time that night. "Thank you. I suppose. I wish I could wear my Voltcom with it, though."

He took a long drink of champagne before setting the bottle on the ground with a clunk. "Maybe Pidge could work on some kind of version you could wear for this kind of thing." She was about to agree that it was a great idea when his hands encircled her right thigh. "Y'know, like a Voltcom garter."

Her first instinct was to pull back, which would have resulted in a quick swim. She settled on another backhand to the chest. "Lance!" He pulled his hands away, but didn't look very guilty. His right hand, in which he'd been holding the champagne, had left a darker half-circle on the blue silken fabric of her gown. "Look what you did."

"It's just water. Really, though, imagine the look on one of those handsy bastards when you reach up your skirt and pull out the whip! 'Course, then you might just attract a kinkier kind of prince. Bet Lotor'd love it."

"Don't even…"

"Sorry. That was too far even for me." He picked up the champagne bottle and handed it to her. "Might be for the best that I'm out here and the diplomats are in there."

She softened, leaning into him as she was beginning to feel the chill of the night. "Have you really been out here by yourself all night?"

"Well, not all night."

"And how much have you had to drink?"

He glanced behind them into the water. "Bottle and a half. Still got one left in there."

"You've already had a whole bottle of this yourself?"

"It's not that strong."

She tried to ignore the fact that the bubbles felt like they traveled from her stomach directly to her head as she took another sip from the bottle. Setting it down on the opposite side, she stood carefully. "All right. Walk me back inside?"

"We should really finish up the bottle first. It doesn't keep well once it's open."

"Lance…" He was using his best half-pleading, half-smirking expression. She was about to mention that Prince Ajax was waiting for her, but the thought of going back to him decided it. She sank back onto the rim of the fountain. "You really should come inside. You'll be pursued even harder than Keith."

"Yeah, well…it's not a popularity contest." He looked away. They sipped champagne from the bottle for a few minutes in companionable silence. Music drifted through the gardens, combining with the trickling water of the fountain. She was about to reluctantly suggest getting back to the eager prince when Lance set the mostly empty bottle on the ground. "Care to dance?"

"Here?"

"Why not?"

"Are you joking?"

"Never about something so serious." He held out his hand, a smile spreading across his features. After a moment's hesitation, she accepted.

"What brought this on?"

He shrugged as he pulled her close and she wrapped an arm around his neck. "Like you said, I owe you a dance. And I like this song."

"I don't recognize it."

"Another GA import."

"It's…" she closed her eyes as she rested her head against Lance's shoulder, not really paying attention to the music. He had shaved just before the ball and smelled of whatever aftershave he used. She nuzzled into his neck. "…nice."

He hummed atonally into her hair as they danced. His movements were nowhere near as graceful as he was in battle, but it felt so much more natural here than in the ballroom. No complicated steps, no prince to sweet-talk for the sake of trade negotiations, no one to merely tolerate. Just Lance. He held her closer than anyone on the dance floor had, in arms that had tossed her to the mats countless times during hand to hand combat training. He could have put his hands anywhere without her protesting. She felt strangely safe, content. And there was something else.

Kiss me.

She wasn't sure if she'd said it out loud or merely thought it, but he immediately stiffened. "Allura…"

Although she'd surprised herself with the suggestion, she looked up into his eyes. "Please?"

He didn't hesitate further like she suspected anyone else would have. His lips were softer than she had expected, not at all like his calloused fingertips, which she could feel gripping her hips through the thin material of her dress. She pulled herself into him, wanting to be closer. The flavor of the champagne was still in his mouth, the scent of his aftershave and soap perfumed every breath that came through her nose. This wasn't how she had imagined the night, but as it continued, she realized she wouldn't change a thing. His arms tightened around her, hands moving up to the bare skin of her back as the kiss deepened. By the gods, if this could be the rest of the night…

They were interrupted by a voice coming from the opposite side of the hedges. "Hello? Princess Allura? Are you here?"

She pulled back with a sigh. "Ajax."

Lance growled, "Who?"

"Some prince," she clarified, finally feeling the importance of the disturbance.

"Oh. You should probably go back, then." He licked his lips as he looked down at her.

She abruptly realized that she shouldn't have been alone in the garden, shouldn't have sat drinking champagne with Lance, shouldn't have agreed to dance. In spite of herself, she gave into temptation, rising to her tiptoes to peck his lips. All it did was remind her of what they'd had a moment before. "I think…come back inside, okay?"

"Yeah. Later. You've got a prince hunting you right now. Not one of the grabby ones, is he?"

"No."

"Oh, good." He turned and walked away.

She started back toward the castle. When she glanced over her shoulder, he was sitting on the edge of the fountain again, drinking the remainder of the champagne. She was about to turn and go back to him when Prince Ajax rounded the corner and spotted her. "Princess! There you are! I brought you sparkling wine!"

"Oh, thank you, Prince Ajax." She accepted a tall glass of the Arusian drink.

"May I escort you back inside?"

"Of course." She glanced over her shoulder, but Lance was gone, the bottle remaining on the fountain. It was difficult to tell in the dark, but she suspected it was now empty.