(All characters belong to World Events Productions and not to me. Rated S for silly!)

Baby Blues

One

It was a dark and stormy night….

Actually it was usually dark and stormy on Doom and well, it was usually night – or at least it was dark. At best it was partly cloudy. The one time that the sun actually came out, oh say about a century ago, everyone on Doom thought that the world was coming to an end or something like that.

Anyhosit, it was your usual day/night on Doom and the most happening place outside of the Bloodied Boar Bar and coffee shop was Castle Doom. Okay so it wasn't happening exactly. When you got a seven foot tall, thousand year old lizard/fish/way too icky king named Zarkon on the throne who likes to wear real fancy robes to hide that ol' middle age/old age pot spread at his mid-section, ain't nothin' much happening there. But hey, you take what you can get and for all purposes of this tale, stuff is happening.

What is happening you might ask? Oh the usual – Haggar the witch is cooking up a spell or three, Zarkon is yelling at Prince Lotor, who is as usual, daydreaming about his love, Princess Allura in scanty Victoria's Secret lingerie.

Yes, I guess that IS boring. Practically every Voltron story you read nowadays has this sort of thing happening. And too, the usual path of the story is that Lotor heads off to Arus with the robeast of the hour/day/week/episode to capture Princess Allura to make her his Queen so that they can both enjoy the conjugal pleasures of the flesh. Oh and yes, destroy Voltron. Then as usual, he gets his butt kicked – or rather the robeast gets kicked by Voltron, Lotor gets away, vowing he'd return, only to go back to Doom, get chewed out by dear old robe-wearing dad and then the vicious cycle starts anew.

Fah! A pox on thine counternance – oh skip it.

Now this story is different and it goes like this…er as I was about to say before I became distracted, dear reader.

Okay, you got the usual stuff happening in the big throne room. Zarkon's like yelling – he has to because he's waaaay up there on that pedestal thingie where his throne sits. I suspect a need to 'compensate' for a lack of something don't you? Anyway, he's yelling, Lotor is kneeling down below with his head bent, fantasizing about Allura, whipped cream and handcuffs, when –

"Sire!" Haggar came bounding into the immense throne room.

Now, get this, Haggar don't bound usually. She's just 'there', okay? Fact is, never seen that woman – er – witch walk no place. But anyway, she bounded into the room, her crazy soulless eyes from hell gleaming with joy.

"What the hell do you want, old hag?" Zarkon sneered from way up high.

(You know that WEP edited Voltron to death, well, they cut out the language too. Zarkon has a potty mouth – oh and potty breath too, but that's 'cause he's not a believer in dental hygiene – or any kind of hygiene for that matter. As a youth he had cut 'Hygiene and You' class at the Academy but managed to get an 'A' when he threatened to yank the instructor's balls – out through the man's throat.  Yes we all know that that is an anatomical impossibility here, but Zarkon could be pretty believable back in them days.)

Oog. Where was I? Oh!

And I quote: "What the hell do you want, old hag?" Zarkon sneered from way up high.

"Sire! I've invented something that will help you immensely with your campaign to defeat Voltron and rule the galaxies!"  Haggar held up a flask full of green liquid triumphantly.

"Humph! What, old witch, another potion for a robeast perhaps? Oh, maybe it's something that Lotor can throw at Voltron – after he runs away of course!"

Lotor looked up at his detestable father. How could HE come from something THAT hideous? Surely he was adopted!

"I resent that remark!" Lotor spat as he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"That's only because it's true, you whelp! How did I ever get a son like you?"

"Probably forcing yourself on my mother.." Lotor grumbled.

"I heard that!" Zarkon bellowed.

"Sire!" Haggar stamped her foot.

"What?" Zarkon glared at the witch. "I'm busy!"

"Not too busy to be – " Haggar paused. "Young again, sire?"

"Eh?" Zarkon placed his finger in his ear to get some of the accumulated wax out. With big ears like Zarkon, it's a hell of a lot of wax. There had evolved a secret candle industry that made candles out of Zarkon's discarded wax deposits, Doom Electricity being what it was. Zarkon didn't know about it of course. If he had, he would have asked for a cut of the proceeds.

"You know I've been able to extend your life due to my magic and the berries that we've collected from Arus, but youth has so far eluded our grasp."

"Youth..pah.." Zarkon shifted in his seat. Lotor felt a trickle of worry. His father – young? That didn't bode well for him!

"But sire! Think about it! You'll not only be young and virile again but you'll still have a thousand years of knowledge inside your head! You were able to carve out the Doom Empire and make it what it is today. Just think of what you can do if you were a young man again! The entire galaxy will be yours and Voltron won't stand a chance!"

"Hm.." This set Zarkon to thinking. He'd forgotten what it was like to be young, but the more he thought about it, the more tempting it sounded. He wouldn't need to have Lotor lead the fruitless campaigns against Arus – he could do it!  Why, he wouldn't have to worry about siring a heir for awhile – he'd have all the time in the world to do it since Haggar could still extend his life. And just think – why he'd be such a stud muffin, he'd have to beat women off with a stick!

(Yes, Zarkon was/is delusional about his looks. Always has, always will be.)

And Voltron – why with his wealth of knowledge and youth, he could defeat Voltron without any problem. Why he'd be unstoppable! 

An evil smile crossed Zarkon's thin lips as he regarded Haggar.

"Well done, witch. I'm glad I told you to mix that potion up.."

If Haggar had any eyeballs to roll upward, she would have. She came forward with a smile, glad her plan was working. It was indeed a youth potion that she had in her hand, but if Zarkon drank half and she drank half, they'd be a helluva lot younger and well – whoopee!!

Lotor stood up and glared at Zarkon. "Father, don't drink that! It's surely poison."

Zarkon snorted. "You're worried that if I drink this stuff, you'll be expendable – well you're right! Bring it up, Haggar..and it BETTER work or I'm finding a new witch!"

"What – EVER.." Haggar muttered. Why did she put up with his crap?  The witch made her way towards Zarkon's throne when quite suddenly Lotor grasped the witch's bony wrist – the one that had the vial of potion in it.

"Unhand me, Lotor, or I'll make you wish you were never born!" Haggar spat.

"Too late. Been there, done that.." Lotor said coolly. "You're NOT giving that to my father."

Zarkon looked down at the two, grinning. He loved a good fight.

"Let GO!" Haggar jerked her wrist back but Lotor wouldn't let go.

"No!" 

Yank.

"Yes!"

Yank.

"No!"

Yank.

Finally Haggar had enough of Lotor and with surprising strength freed herself. Unfortunately her cat Coba who happened to do what cats do, and get underfoot, was behind her when she stepped back. The cat yowled in indignation as his tail was trod upon and Haggar's hand reflexively let go of the vial that contained the potion. The potion's trajectory was unfortunately headed for Lotor, who could not avoid it. The entire contents splashed on the hapless Crown Prince of Doom, and then quite suddenly –

"Ohmygod.." Haggar's hands flew up to her face and then she started to curse. Zarkon scowled as he looked for Lotor.

"Where's Lotor, old witch? You could have waited to zap him after I drank your potion."

"Sire.." Haggar seethed as she looked to where Lotor had been. "You'd better come down here."

"Dammit.." Zarkon stomped gracelessly down the stairs and finally made it to where Haggar was standing. Now that he had a better view, he saw that Lotor's uniform was there but no Lotor.

"What trickery is this, Haggar.." Zarkon poked at the pile of clothes.  Suddenly the clothes 'moved'. Zarkon jumped back quickly. "What the hell?"

"Goo!" A head – a small head poked out of the pile of clothes. 

"GAH!! What the hell is THAT!!" Zarkon exclaimed.

"It's a baby, Sire." Haggar crossed her arms as a sour look crossed her face.

Indeed it was a baby. A cute little Drule baby, his skin a light azure, and his cat's eyes round and golden like a kitten's would be. He had soft curls of white hair on his small well formed head, although there wasn't much of it. The baby sat there in the pile of clothes and looked up at the giants that towered over him and then proceeded to grab part of the uniform and chew on a sleeve.

"I know it's a damn baby! But – but what IS it?" Zarkon looked aghast.

"That, sire, is Lotor."

Zarkon's eyes bugged out of his head, so shocked was he. Then he looked over at Haggar. "Change him back!"

"I can't, sire! The potion has taken affect. If I tamper with him in his present state, who knows what will happen?" Haggar gave the teething baby a hateful glare.

"Feh.." Zarkon grunted. "Pick up the brat. I want a closer look at the whelp."

"Me?" Haggar exclaimed in horror.

"You're a woman..well sort of  - well you're female. Pick him up, I say!" Zarkon exclaimed. Haggar picked up Lotor and when she had him in her arms, the baby looked at her and promptly bopped her in the nose with his tiny fist.

"OW! You brat!" Haggar spat out. She forgot what a brat Lotor was when he was a baby.

"Ehehehehe! That's my boy!" Zarkon chortled as he peered at Lotor, who tugged at Haggar's cowl. Haggar struggled with him briefly, not wanting her hideous appearance revealed fully. Finally the witch had enough and shoved the infant practically into Zarkon's face.

"Here, you take him!" Haggar said.

"Hey, now waitaminute! Why should I?"

"You're his father, that's why!" Haggar watched as Zarkon's hands grasped the squirming naked infant at arms length from himself. Zarkon looked closely at the Drule infant.

'Hm, well he's got the equipment like his old man.." Zarkon nodded approvingly.

~I don't think so!~ Haggar thought to herself as she watched Zarkon bring Lotor a little bit closer to himself with a hint of amazement. Perhaps Zarkon was actually showing some fatherly attributes this time around? When Lotor was up against Zarkon's chest – Zarkon was still holding him a bit awkwardly – two things happened.

One, Lotor started screaming at the top of his lungs – which is what happened the first time around when he was an infant.

And two, Lotor had a call of nature.

"GAH!!" Zarkon nearly threw Lotor from him as he saw just what was happening. As it was, the mad monarch held the squalling baby at arm's length once more and then set him down back in the uniform pile.

Zarkon cursed as he looked down at his royal robes. Now he remembered just WHY he hadn't had any more children.

"Damn brat! Even as a baby, he was annoying!" Zarkon muttered. "Get a nursemaid for the whelp!"

"But sire, if we do that, there are those in the palace that will find out that your son is vulnerable. We can't have that!" Haggar tried not to smirk, but Lotor peeing on Zarkon was priceless.

"It's your fault, YOU take care of it!" Zarkon groused as he stomped back to his chambers to get a fresh – okay, Zarkon-fresh – change of clothing.

Suddenly Haggar had a great idea. It would be something that would not only get Lotor out of the way for a while but also help with their problems with Arus. No one – especially that silly princess could resist a cute baby now could they? Haggar carefully picked up the now sniffling Lotor, uniform and all, and held him for a moment as she cackled evilly.

"Ooo gonna get us Arus-warus, aren't you, you oolite brat.." Haggar's bony finger tapped Lotor's little nose.

Lotor promptly bit Haggar's finger with his one lone tooth.

"OW! Why you little- !" Haggar scowled.

Lotor giggled.