He first met Shiro on what you might call a typical evening on the job.

It was an art museum. It almost always was. There's an unspoken classism there. An almost imperceptive note that what is said to be rare, expensive, and also beautiful is of the utmost value and would, perhaps, be most missed.

Loftily he'll consider his statements, written in the papers which pay his rent, that it's this method which made a name for himself. Especially when he resold the works back to the country of it's origin to people who payed top dollar who somehow managed to place the paintings in more established museums after a small shuffle in the background.

After all, he's a thief due to necessity not for greed. There's an ironic note within there somewhere which rings out in the same muddy tones of the paintings he's known to steal. Which sings of a somber song similar to the tune of his sister in her hospital bed. Both beautiful, both wasted indoors and both fleeting and fading until, inevitably, they find themselves stolen away.

He knows his name instantly as any good reporter would.

Captain Shirogane of the Voltron branch. One of four gifteds who typically take on the higher crime within the area. Spanning further than their California borders but also tied, albeit loosely, to their small government funding.

Good people. Cool abilities. Their only mistake is signing with the government because that makes his job a seemingly insignificant twinge more illegal than if they weren't. Because resisting arrest and fighting these guys is suddenly illegal, too.

There are many theories which consider the four officers to have been government funded from the beginning. Lance does his best to spread this theory around. After all, how could there only be four gifted people in this world unless they weren't gifted but created. But of course, semantics are reserved for his day job.

He knows the answer is neither. That these powers were found. And they call him a thief.

"I've got eyes on him."

"Eyes on who?"

"On Blue!"

He was a thief. A great thief, actually. The kind that had never been caught. The kind that never would.

"There haven't been any reports of theft- are you sure he's-" Pidge was hovering over the comms, her fingers rapidly retracing their chase even as Shiro moved her aside to reach the microphone.

"Keith, do not engage! We have no probable cause!"

"He's here and he's wanted, Shiro, that's a good enough reason for me to pursue."

"You'll only start a chase."

"What? Afraid I'll win the pool?"

"No, I'm afraid you'll lose control."

The silence afterward was punctuated by Pidge's own expressionless glare ambiguously directed down towards the comm control panel.

"Keith." It was a warning. A choice but also a command.

And it was at that moment Blue turned around,the grin on his Lion Mask possibly more mocking than usual matching suit with his tone of voice as he taunted,"Might want to listen to your orders, Kogane. I haven't stolen anything but your wasted time tonight."

"Doesn't change the fact that you have stolen in the past. You're a wanted criminal."

"Aw, you want me that bad, huh?"

Keith grit his teeth trying to reel in whatever patience he had left. With each clench of his hand, small bursts of fire emerged in tiny flicks serving as a reminder of his quickly quivering self-control.

A high whine escaped Blue as he stood there, arms crossed lazily over his chest, inspecting his nails with an air of indifference.

"Well there's no need to get all hot and bothered about it. Can't a cat take a stroll in the dark?"

"I'm bringing you in."

"Oh, babe, your boyfriend can still hear you." he whispered theatrically, "Now I know I'm a thief but I would never steal you."

Keith never was a man of many words. Words got in the way of justice. Words also got people out of justice. To Keith, words were as decipherable as books were to a dog- things to chew on and spit out at best.

So one might speculate that the words spoken by an innocuous thief weren't enough to break a man man of magma like Officer Kogane. But it took one more sentence from Blue and like poets to a sonnet, Keith snapped. Flames infiltrated his field of vision, the comms crackled ominously in his ear with cautions and close-calls from Shiro.

"Okay, so you didn't appreciate the joke." Blue remarked; his voice light as he backed away from the unfriendly inferno. Unfortunately for him, such a tactic was an unlikely success causing his retreating leg to smoothly change stance as he parried a particularly pointed punch.

A punch which was quickly succeeded by a second and a third and then a foot which Blue ducked with impressive ease considering his height. And on it went atop that rooftop with close calls and occassional burns noticed mostly by Blue and only by Keith due to the slight hiss and subsequent snark.

And with each near miss and grazing hit- Keith's anger took control raising his body temperature to extreme levels, his own fury fanning the flames which, by now, engulfed his entire form. It was the small surprise of actual contact which stunned Keith enough to remember those words. Words which were now spewing from the masked face of his most petty villain.

"Just calm down. Breathe in, man. Good. You're practically supernova. Calm. Breathe- in and out. In and-"

He was kneeling in bubbling puddle of water. Surrounding him was a box of ice. And if the steam itself wasn't enough the sudden cut of oxygen had his mind dipping to a much lower boiling point. And he coughed. He coughed a lot and uncontrollably. And over the dehydrated hacks, right before his heat headache came careening in with enough force to knock him out- Keith could have sworn he heard one more stream of words before the darkness.

"Don't look so surprised. It just wouldn't do to have you giving people like us a bad rep."