Disclaimer - WEP owns everything except the voices in my head. These are their characters and planet - I'm just playing with them.

Author's note:

First I want to thank my team of beta readers for their helpful tips and insight. You each gave me some things to think about as I got this ready to post. And a special thank you to my sounding board who talked me down from a ledge when I got frustrated at one point in the process. You know who you are and I will be forever grateful for your ear and kind words!

This was my first attempt at plotting out a story before I started writing it. It was a different experience and I hope you all enjoy the results. I did have additional ideas and scenes that I cut in order to save to possibly come back and create a series later.

Since the story is all written, I plan to post pretty quickly so I can move onto the next tale that is rattling around in my brain...

A low growl escapes Keith's throat giving voice to the level of anger and frustration he's currently feeling. Violently raking a hand through his unruly black hair, he flings his gym equipment forcefully into a bin nearby. Lance's antics bothered him today, but he is even more upset with himself because he'd let the teasing get under his skin yet again. If Lance had beaten him honestly during their sparring match, without relying on diversionary tactics to defeat him, it wouldn't be such a big deal to him. But the loss came as a result of his own distraction and uncertainty, so it doesn't sit well with the normally confident captain of the Voltron Force. The fact that it was the third time this month that his lithe, wisecracking second in command was able to divert his attention with jibes, made it even harder to bear. Lance's flippant comments about Keith's growing feelings for the princess hit a little too close to home for the comfort of the commander. The cocky Red Lion pilot has been reading him entirely too well lately; triggering the realization that he no longer hides his emotions quite as well as he thinks. The battle being waged between his heart and mind is escalating and Keith senses that his breaking point is drawing near. "Something's gotta give soon. Either I'm gonna hafta find a way to let go of my feelings for Allura or I'm gonna hafta act on them. If I keep going like this… I'm… I'm… I'm just gonna snap…" Keith mutters under his breath as he stalks out of the training room shaking his head.

Walking back to his quarters, Keith winces as he takes inventory of all the new bruises Lance has managed to give him today. He should never have allowed the other man to land so many hits. No question about it, he is becoming distracted entirely too easily and Lance is definitely taking advantage of it. Frustration evident in his stance, he viciously punches in his door's access code before stomping into his quarters. Peeling off his sweat soaked workout gear, he leaves a trail of discarded clothing behind him as he pads to the bathroom. After adjusting the shower spray to the hottest, strongest setting that he thinks his body can withstand, he steps into the steaming cascade. Standing under the streaming water, he silently watches as it sluices down his muscular form in rivulets that trace the planes of his chest, stomach, and legs before finally escaping through the drain in the shower floor. As he feels his body begin to relax under the hot water, he wishes that his mind was as easily pacified. Running a hand through his wet hair, a desperate moan escapes him. Keith places his forearms against the shower wall. Fisting his hands, he rests his head on the tile between them closing his eyes. He lets the water continue to pound soothingly on the knots in his shoulders and back, massaging away the stiffness. In an effort to distract himself from his discordant thoughts, he takes the time to concentrate on each muscle within his body. By first clenching and then slowly releasing the tension in each one, he is able to get his body to relax fully. He enjoys the sensation, and contrasts it with the swirling feelings tormenting his mind. He's emotionally torn and can't bring himself to make the decision that he knows must be made. Fear paralyses his mind and he hesitates again, wondering which choice will prove to be the better one. Split second decisions in the heat of battle with lives at stake have never proven as difficult as the choice lying before him now.

Could he try to convince himself that this is just a silly crush and turn his attentions elsewhere? He considers it, but just can't persuade himself to believe that. Besides, he can't imagine not feeling this way for the beautiful princess. Maybe he should act on his longings; tell her how he feels. But what if she laughs or tells him that she doesn't return his feelings? He'd be devastated. Looking up to the ceiling, he sighs deeply before letting his forehead come to rest against the tile again.

Turning off the water, he allows himself one last minute to stand with his head resting against the shower wall before finally straightening up and reaching for a towel. Once dry, he exits the bathroom and dresses quickly before sitting down at his desk. He pulls out a few sheets of paper covered in haphazardly scrawled notes. After reading them over, he takes a deep breath and stands. He has made his decision. The time for thinking is over, now it's time for action. Mustering his best 'commander face' as would Lance call it, he squares his shoulders, raises his head and walks to the door.

He has a plan, but knows that he doesn't have much time to follow through on it. Tomorrow is his birthday and the princess is planning a small party for him even though he has told her that he neither wants nor needs one. When she kept insisting, he had given in, simply because he knew it would make her happy. Leaving his quarters, he strides swiftly and purposefully to the library hoping to be able to complete his research before his scheduled patrol shift. Unbeknownst to him, a small creature follows him as he embarks on his clandestine errand.

Entering the archive, he heads decisively to his target. Pulling a few books from the dusty shelves, he sits at a nearby desk and begins paging through them. His preoccupation is evident when a blue mouse is able to get close enough to catch a glimpse at what he is reading without being noticed. Chitter seems happily surprised by the captain's research and jumps around excitedly, his smile nearly uncontainable. A couple of hours later, Keith carefully closes and replaces the books before leaving the room. A small sheet of scrap paper covered in hasty scribbles is crushed within his fist. The mouse sneaks back out of the library shortly after, an excited expression on his face.

During his patrol later that afternoon, the Black Lion seems to have a secondary objective. Frequently referring back and forth between the monitors and the note in his hand, Keith is obviously searching for something. Travelling in a carefully orchestrated pattern over the countryside, his dark eyes are attentive to every detail of the landscape around him. Hours later, he finally discovers what he seeks. Grinning broadly, he makes a note of the coordinates before turning and heading back to the castle.

The next morning, he awakens at first light, intending to leave before anyone else in the palace rouses. He gulps down a quick breakfast then strides swiftly to the stables, eager to be off on his covert errand. "I haven't been this nervous and excited about my birthday since I was a little boy," he whispers to himself, shaking his head and grinning. Saddling his favorite horse, Keith rides out from the castle without a single word to anyone…