"Hunk, what the heck is this?" Keith yawned, dropping onto the lounge sofa next to Pidge. "It's the middle of the night."

"Technically we're in the middle of space, so it's always night," the green paladin mumbled, arms wrapped around a pillow. She looked just as tired as everyone else, but apparently her science reflex overpowered even fatigue.

Hunk clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Okay, so, obviously you're all wondering why I've called you here today—"

Shiro thwacked him with a pillow, grinning. "Cut to the chase, buddy, we all want to sleep."

"I was getting there!" the yellow paladin protested. "The reason we're meeting so late is so Lance doesn't know about it. See, his birthday's coming up, and birthdays are kinda big in his family. So I was thinking we could have some sort of shindig."

"A shindig is a party," Shiro filled in at Allura and Coran's blank looks. Raised an eyebrow at Hunk. "I for one think that's a great idea. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, cake, obviously." Hunk rolled his eyes. "But a birthday party isn't just cake. Any ideas?"

"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" Pidge sat bolt upright, grinning like a maniac, sleep apparently forgotten. "Matt and I always pranked each other on our birthdays! We should totally do that!"

Shiro looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or groan. "Is that where the vinegar soda came from?"

"The what?" Keith yelped.

"You don't want to know."

"Yup." Pidge's grin was smug. "And he bought that one hook, line, and sinker, by the way. I bet I could rig all sorts of things to scare the daylights out of Lance, too. Start with his door, put a—"

"Let's not terrify the guy," Shiro interrupted with a wry grin. "Keep it to fun stuff? Like, I don't know, a confetti blaster, or something?"

The girl rubbed her chin, obviously contemplating that. "Hmm. That could work. I'll see what I can do."

"I'm certainly not opposed to pranking Lance," Hunk cut in, "and I totally like that confetti blaster idea, but you guys got anything else? Like, I don't know, something we could give him as a gift?"

Keith opened his mouth.

"Not a knife."

Keith closed his mouth.

Allura chuckled at them. "On Altea, we usually held birthday celebrations in the evening, with some sort of dish for the person being celebrated and all of their prosfores."

Hunk blinked. So did Keith and Shiro. Pidge, however, narrowed her eyes. "That's… does that mean 'sacrifice joiner'?"

"Roughly, yes." The princess tilted her head, white hair tumbling loose across her nightgown. "The word does come from old religious rituals, but… In birthday celebrations, a prosfora is someone who manages to put a louloodi on the birthday person at any point before the almyra, or celebratory dish, is shared." At their confused stares, she elaborated. "A louloodi is some sort of necklace, traditionally handmade. Sometimes people make flower chains, or strings of beads, or paper rings, or… all sorts of things. Father once used seaweed for Mother. She was not amused."

"I thought Melanor was going to skin him alive," Coran chuckled. "He got sand and seawater all over her second best dress!"

"So…" Pidge darted a glance between them. "It's for messing with people?"

"Sometimes it's used for that, but that's not its intent." Allura spread her hands. "Anyone who places a louloodi gets to share the almyra with the birthday person, so there's a bit of an incentive—both for you to place one, and for everyone who's already placed one to keep you from placing yours. Because the fewer people who place one, the more of the almyra there is for each prosfora." She smirked. "Although damaging other people's louloodia is strictly forbidden. It is usually treated as a way to give the person a gift."

Hunk processed that. "So… you play pin the tail on the donkey, except it's a necklace on the birthday boy, to invite yourself to his party?"

Shiro grinned at him. "That's what it sounds like."

"Then I am totally in." The yellow paladin beamed at the princess. "I love that idea and am keeping it forever, by the way."

Allura laughed. "I'm glad you like it!"

"We should still get him a gift, though." Shiro leaned his chin on his fist, thinking. Cocked an eye at Hunk. "What sort of hobbies did he have at the Garrison?"

"Besides flirting with pretty girls?" Pidge snorted.

Keith jabbed her with an elbow. "That's not a hobby, that's just being annoying."

"Since when can a hobby not be annoying?"

"Not the point, guys." The black paladin waved a hand at the pair. "Come on, we're looking for ideas here."

Hunk frowned, digging through memory. "I know he surfed back home, but that's no use since we're flying around all the time… He did listen to music a lot. Maybe we could get him space iTunes or something?"

Pidge shook her head. "Not gonna be much help. I brought my music with me, and Lance listens to it all the time. I've been adding stuff to it too, so it's not like he's running out any time soon."

Keith raised an eyebrow. "You like alien music?"

"Sure, there's lots of great music out here. The Olkari actually have this one band that really sounds great, I got some of their stuff last time we—"

"Wait, wait, wait." The red paladin held up his hands. "Are you fangirling over an Olkari boy band?"

"I am not!"

"Augh, watch the volume, Number Five!" Coran slapped his hands over his ears. "Keep yelling like that and you'll wake up Lance. And probably Zarkon."

"Then tell him I'm not fangirling!" Pidge jabbed an accusing finger toward an openly smirking Keith. "Fangirling is for oatmeal-brained idiots! If I'm going to fangirl it's going to be over Tesla, or Einstein, or Curie. Not an alien boy band!"

Keith's smirk deepened. "So you'd fangirl over a normal boy band?"

"You—!"

Shiro snagged the green paladin around her waist mid-leap, manfully hauling her back down the couch as she growled and clawed at Keith. The black-haired boy for his part scooted out of reach, grinning at the girl's outrage. "Ooh, looks like I hit a sore spot. Guess the tech whiz likes boy bands!"

"I do not, you—you—you lame excuse for period cramps!"

The males in the room looked either confused or mildly horrified at this particularly devastating insult. Allura, however, doubled over laughing, gasping for air as helpless mirth stole her breath and made her eyes tear. Shiro wrestled the snarling green gremlin into a pin and eyed the princess as Pidge tried fruitlessly to bite his metal arm, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You okay over there, princess?"

"I—oh dear." Allura pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to get her giggles under control. "I'm fine, I just—oh, I am saving that one…"

"Um." Nonplussed, Keith darted a wary look around the circle. "I… don't get it?"

Allura spluttered into laughter again, and Shiro and Coran exchanged a panicked glance. Hunk winced in sympathy. Sometimes he was really glad the only thing he was officially responsible for was the kitchen. Just because he had three sisters didn't mean he wanted to explain this.

"Remember a couple weeks ago, when the girls were a bit… cranky?" Coran finally hedged.

"When Pidge said she was gonna pull out my hair one piece at a time if I didn't leave her in her blanket cocoon, and Allura offered to help?" Keith looked totally confused. "Kinda hard to forget. What's that got to do with it?"

We'll, uh, explain later," the black paladin cut in. "Now's really not the time or the place."

"What, Shiro?" Pidge squirmed out from his grip to smirk at him. "You don't wanna give him The Talk?"

"The Talk?" Keith squeaked.

"No, I don't." Shiro turned a reproachful eye on the grinning girl at his elbow. "Because the version I know is your brother's, and there's no way I want to do that in front of anyone else."

Hazel eyes widened with glee. "Matt gave you The Talk?"

"Yes, he did, because one of the girls in our class tried to take my head off and I couldn't figure out why." The black paladin's cheeks were a bit pink as he poked his smirking companion in the ribs. "And that's not the point right now. We're trying to figure out a birthday present for Lance." He raised an amused eyebrow at Allura. "Are you quite done?"

The princess hiccuped on her giggles, blue eyes sparkling with mirth over the hands she had clamped across her mouth. With an effort she loosened one long enough to make a carry on gesture before a fresh bubble of laughter bent her almost double. Hunk felt his own mouth twitching with the infectious humor, and on impulse he leaned forward to grin at her.

"Hey, Allura. Why did the plane crash?"

She blinked at him, hilarity for a moment subsiding.

"Because the pilot was a loaf of bread!"

Another blink.

And then she was laughing again, all but crying on Coran's shoulder as the hysterics swept her away completely. The bewildered steward patted her back as Pidge cackled aloud, and even Shiro chuckled a bit. Keith's eyes narrowed in a way that told Hunk the other boy was doing his darnedest not to laugh, and the yellow paladin's grin widened. "It's a joke, Keith. You're supposed to laugh."

"Guess I wouldn't know," Keith deadpanned. "Forgot to pick up a sense of humor last time we went shopping."

"Guys…" Shiro pressed the heels of his hands to his temples. "Allura's going to wind up in the infirmary if you keep this up. I thought we were planning Lance's birthday."

"Who says we're not?" the red paladin said innocently. Turned to Pidge. "Remember that place at the mall, where you guys got that video game?"

The girl nodded, brows knitting with puzzlement. "Yeah, why?"

"Were there any musical instruments there?"

"I don't remember any, but there might have been, we didn't go far inside… What's your point?"

"Well…" Keith waved a vague hand. "Lance mentioned playing stuff with his brother a couple times, and when we were talking about music earlier I had this idea…"

His friends were Up To Something.

Oh, they weren't being obvious. They weren't stupid. Well, mostly. Keith could be incredibly stupid, given the right circumstances and proper threshold for lethality. But in the past few days Lance had definitely caught a few furtive glances sent his way, and walked in on one too many sudden silences. Something was definitely up.

Not that he thought the others were planning anything bad. But there was something going on to which he was not privy. And it bothered him.

He'd tried to pry whatever it was out of Hunk after he'd caught the yellow paladin talking in low tones to Keith down the hall from the Red Lion's hangar, a place Hunk had no obvious reason to be. But his buddy had just shrugged and flashed him a disarming grin. "I was just looking a a mechanical thing in Red. Keith couldn't figure it out."

"Then why didn't he ask Pidge to do it?" Lance pressed.

"You think I'm not up to the task?" The large boy looked affronted. "Excuse me, but who was your engineer at the Garrison, exactly?"

"The engineer who barfed in the engine box!"

"Doesn't mean I don't know my stuff!" Hunk waved the matter off. "Look, it's no big. There's no problem with Red anyway, it was just a funky wiring thing. Sorry, but I gotta run; I'm trying out this cinnamon roll recipe thing, and they're gonna burn…"

That? Was definitely a strategic retreat, Lance thought, frowning at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. He'd apparently slept funny, because now the hair on one side of his head was pressed into a mess of sticky-uppy bits that would take some determined combing to conquer. Great way to start the day. When his own hair was rebelling against him…

Ten minutes of growling and furious combing later, he climbed into his civvies and checked his hair one more time. He was pretty sure it was still thinking about being contrary, but for the time being at least it appeared that he'd beaten it into submission. Satisfied, he headed for the door, ready to face whatever enemies and plots the day decided to throw his way—

Kk-boof!

Lance threw up his arms to protect his face as color blasted at him from what seemed like every direction at once. But the impacts didn't hurt, any more than a snowball would. Instead, bits of colored paper and ribbon fluttered around him, a few pieces finding their way down his collar as their momentum was spent and they began to drift to the floor. He blinked at them, bewildered, and edged through the door.

Confetti? Why is there—

Another explosion. Lance screwed his eyes shut and spat out a couple paper scraps that got into his mouth. Eyed the crazy-quilt of colory bits surrounding him, and squinted up at the ceiling.

"You've gotta be kidding me…"

He could just see the open ends of half a dozen spent confetti cannons. Only their open ends. Their sides blurred into the sleek metal of the hall as if they weren't even there, like the walls of the training maze…

Pidge used cloaking tech for confetti cannons? What the heck?

And if she had… Lance eyed the stretch of hallway in front of him suspiciously. There could be dozens more cannons hidden around him, and he'd have no idea until he hit whatever their trip sensors were.

…Eh. They won't kill me.

He took off in a flat-out sprint, arms up to shield his face. With every step another cannon exploded, and he ran through a blizzard of dizzying color as ribbon and paper bits swirled around him. At last he reached the end of the hall and, after a few steps with no further assaults, he slowed enough to look back. From where he stood all the way back to his bedroom the floor was strewn with a kaleidoscope of colorful disaster, some bits still fluttering about as the almost-nonexistent breeze of the Castle's air filtration system stirred the air.

Something scraped above him, the tiniest sound at the edge of hearing. Lance dove to one side just in time to avoid a lump of green that dropped out of a vent overhead. He'd only just gotten his balance again when Pidge launched herself from the floor and clambered up his back like a monkey, wrapping her legs around his waist. More on reflex than anything Lance gripped her legs to steady her, trying to glare over his shoulder. "What the heck, Pidge—!"

Whatever else he was going to say got cut off as Pidge dropped something over his head. For a moment whatever it was filled his mouth, and Lance sputtered and spat before the girl tugged it clear to fall around his neck.

Then just as suddenly as she'd pounced, Pidge slipped clear of his back and took off down the hall, grinning like a madwoman. Lance gaped after her, considering pursuit. Then he blinked down at the thing she'd put over his head and felt his eyebrows hit his hairline.

A lei?

Well, not exactly a lei. This was more a braid of flower stems than a string of blossoms, constructed rather like an oversized flower crown. But the twist of stems, which his probing fingers told him was reinforced with string, was all but hidden by the mass of small, carnation-like flowers nestled about it, a rope of petal whorls ranging from deepest cobalt to bright sky blue. It was long enough to fall midway down his chest, and as he examined it he noticed a tag hanging loosely from the braid. Curious, he pulled it loose and turned it over.

Happy birthday, sharpshooter!

Lance stared. Blinked. Stared again.

It's my birthday?

He hadn't been keeping track of the days since they'd gone to space. Not that he couldn't have if he'd wanted to; he knew Pidge and Hunk kept meticulous track of the passage of time. But he didn't think he wanted to know exactly how long it had been since he'd been on Earth, because that gap was always widening and… and he didn't want to. It was enough to say that it had "been a while" since he'd been home. He didn't need specifics.

But… his birthday?

At home the celebration would start as soon as he and Rachel were out of bed, probably with pancakes and bacon and piles and piles of fruit. There would be hugs, and singing, and Luis would be enthusiastically off key as everyone else rolled their eyes and grinned, and Mom always made him garlic knots and Rachel her favorite blueberry scones. And of course there would be cake. And probably a cookout dinner, with barbecue and watermelon, and hopefully they'd have been able to convince everyone that they weren't too old for a piñata yet…

He swallowed, and scrubbed at his eyes, and smiled down at the tag in his hand.

Thanks, Pidge.

And now that he had an explanation for the confetti storm… guess it was time to find out what else his friends had in store.

The suspiciously quiet kitchen's only occupant this morning was Hunk, who looked up from a tablet and grinned as Lance walked in. "Hey man, happy birthday! Looks like Pidge already got you, huh?"

"Did she ever," Lance grunted, shaking a few confetti bits out of the hood of his sweatshirt. Reran exactly what Hunk had said. "Wait, how did you know it was Pidge?"

"Oh, she told me what her louloodi was going to be, like, a week ago. And she wanted to get the jump on everyone else, preferably with confetti involved." The chef stuffed a hand into his pocket. "By the way, this is for you."

Lance caught the object his friend tossed across the counter, and frowned at it. Hunk had wrapped wire around a deep blue stone that was probably a gem of some sort—where'd he gotten it?—and put the whole assembly on a string. It was pretty, definitely, but… "What's a louloo…what?"

"Louloodi. It's an Altean thing." Hunk eyed the necklace cradled in the blue paladin's palm. "Um. Could you put that on?"

"…Sure?" Lance dropped the loop of string over his head, letting the stone thump against his chest. "What's the big deal?"

"So the other guys don't beat me to it!" his friend grinned. "Want pancakes? I made chocolate chip."

"Do the Irish love whiskey?"

"Heh." The yellow paladin shoved a laden plate across the counter, topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream. "Here's to a great birthday!"

Lance tucked into the stack of pancakes with gusto, eying his friend as he shoveled in bites rich with butter and cream and melted chocolate. "Thanks, man. This is delicious. Um, so, what's this… louloodi thing?"

"It's an Altean birthday tradition Allura told us about." Hunk poured pancake batter into a pan on the stove; apparently someone hadn't eaten yet. Or maybe he was making extras to save for later. He did that sometimes. "Basically everyone tries to put a necklace on the birthday boy, and if you do, you get to share the cake."

Lance considered that. "So I'm gonna get pounced on by everyone, then?"

The large boy grinned at him. "Probably, yeah."

"Hoo, man. They'd better not all be as violent about it as Pidge was. Otherwise I might not survive the day."

Fortunately they weren't—at least, not violent toward him. Keith, Pidge, and Shiro engaged in a bewildering and slightly terrifying three-way sort of slow-burn showdown throughout the morning, each trying to prevent the others from getting to Lance to give him their louloodia. Everyone else watched the stalking and tussling and made-and-broken alliances between the trio with bewildered amusement. Pidge did manage to rope Hunk into the fight at one point, claiming him as an ally on the grounds that they both had already placed their louloodia and so had mutual stakes in the game. The yellow paladin stuck it out for an impressive period of time before at last edging back to the sidelines, relieved to escape the tension. Meanwhile Allura calmly presented Lance with an elegant weave of white and pale blue ribbons studded here and there with crystalline beads, bestowed with a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. Lance grinned at her.

"So which is the obligatory birthday gift and which is the real one?"

One white eyebrow rose, and the princess tried to look disdainfully down her nose. She didn't quite succeed, as blue eyes twinkled with laughter. "Who says they're not both obligatory?"

"Oh, just a wild guess."

"Well, you can keep guessing, then."

"Guess I will." Lance smirked, then realized something. "Um, by the way, why are those guys—" He motioned toward the faceoff on the far side of the bridge— "fighting, exactly?"

"Part of the Altean birthday tradition," Allura smiled. "Those who place a louloodi are called prosfores, and they get to share the almyra—I believe Hunk said on Earth that's a birthday cake. But the fewer prosfores there are, the more of the almyra there is for each prosfora. You get as much as you want, and then the remainder gets divided between them."

"So they're fighting over who gets to have cake?"

"Simply put, yes." Blue eyes twinkled. "It's part of the fun."

Lance smirked. "Okay, I like this birthday tradition."

"Hunk said the same thing. I think he wants to—"

"Heads up!"

Keith sprinted up the steps to Hunk's work station and leaped onto the back of the chair, then launched himself into the air. The vault was aimed to clear Shiro, and the black paladin just missed snatching his friend's ankle as it passed overhead. Keith landed in a crouch before the older man could recover and bolted toward Lance, a reckless gleam in his eye. "Watch out, coming in hot!"

Lance only just had time to set his feet before the red paladin crashed into him, making him stagger. "Hey, dude, careful!"

Keith didn't even bother to steady himself, just reached up and yanked a cord over Lance's head. Then Pidge plowed into them and all three went down in a heap of yells and flailing limbs. The green paladin squirmed free rolled clear, glowering. "No fair, you run faster than I can!"

"Hey, nobody said that wasn't in the rules." Keith pried himself off the floor with a smirk. "And by the way—I win."

"That's what you think. And anyway, I got mine first."

"Whatever." The red paladin stuck out a hand to help Lance up, grinning sheepishly. "Hey, sorry about that. You all right?"

"Aside from a few broken ribs, yeah, I'm fine." Lance tried to roll his eyes, but a grin broke through anyway. "Aren't you guys taking this a bit too seriously?"

Pidge gave him an arch look. "Um, no."

"Hmm. So that means all of you will be teaming up against Shiro now?"

The pair blinked. Swiveled around to eye the black paladin, who'd been trying to sneak up behind them. Smirked.

Shiro looked at them like a deer in the headlights, and glared at Lance.

Lance grinned.

As the contest resumed, this time with more defined teams, the blue paladin took a moment to study Keith's louloodi. It consisted of a simple black cord, from which hung a wooden pendant shaped like a lion's head. The Blue Lion's head, to be specific, carved in minimal but precise detail. Apparently that Marmora knife was useful for something after all. It bumped against Hunk's crystal, the soft tap-tap of wood on stone, and Lance had to smile.

"Ahoy, Number Three!" Coran appeared at his elbow, twirling his mustache. "I hear it's your birthday! I hope you're having a good one!"

"I am, thanks Coran." The blue paladin grinned at the steward. "This louloodi tradition thing is super entertaining."

That it is," the ginger chuckled. "That it is. Speaking of which—"

A gloved hand snapped out, and a wheel of color dropped past Lance's eyes to land on his shoulders. He blinked down at the string of quilled paper beads, each one banded with varying shades of blue, and Coran tipped him a wink.

"Just making sure I've got my ticket in!"

The other three paladins held Shiro off for the better part of the day, but at last they all hit the training deck to run some drills. Before they started an agreement was reached that training time was off-limits for louloodi placement. Lance also removed the ones he'd already been given so they wouldn't get damaged, promising to put them all back on as soon as they were done. After training, however, he lingered in the shower as usual to enjoy the water while the others hurried through their own cleanup and went to wait in the hall. In the middle of sticking his face into the cascade yet again, he heard a "psst."

He blinked, not sure if his ears were playing tricks on him. The splashing water was kinda loud—

"Psst. Hey. Lance."

Not his imagination. Lance wiped water from his eyes and tugged aside a corner of the shower curtain enough to peek out. "Yeah?"

Shiro darted a glance at the hall door, looking remarkably like a kid with a secret stash of candy. "Quick, before anyone comes in. Here."

He shoved a small object at the gap in the curtain. Lance took it, unable to resist a smirk. "I thought you agreed not during training."

"I did. But this isn't training." The black paladin grinned at his own adherence to the letter of the law. "Don't worry, it's fine in the water."

Lance slipped the string over his head, admiring the palm-sized conch shell dangling from it by a loop of wire. Its twisting curves were striped brown and white, but around the lip and through the visible interior the shell was touched with delicate powder blue. It was so like something he might pick up off the beach at home…

"Thanks, Shiro," he said softly. "This is beautiful."

"You're welcome." Feet shuffled on the other side of the curtain, probably the black paladin rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not actually really meant for wearing, since it's so large, so that wire comes off so you can keep it on a shelf or something… Just figured, for today—"

"No, it's good. It's great, actually." Lance shut off the water and reached for a towel, pulling the curtain aside just enough to smirk at the older man. "And by the way, the others are going to have a fit when they see this."

Shiro grinned. "I think I'm going to escape to the bridge while I still can."

"Good luck with that."

A howl did indeed go up from the red and green paladins when Lance stepped into the hall with Shiro's shell nestled amid the other louloodia. "He promised not during training!" Pidge cried, throwing up her arms.

"Yeah, well…" Lance shrugged, and tried for a disarming smile. "He said that he promised training was off limits, but not showers."

Keith stuck out his lower lip. "Looks like we need to go explain a few things to our vaunted leader. How 'bout it, Pidge?"

"How 'bout nothing." Hunk folded his arms to glare at the others. "I need you guys' help in the kitchen. Lance, you wait on the bridge. We'll call you when dinner's ready."

"But Hunk!" Pidge started.

"Nuh-uh. Shiro's perfectly within his rights to give Lance his louloodi during the showers. I heard your agreement, and he specified only during training was off limits. Next time, be more careful about your wording." He turned on his heel, beckoning with an imperious hand. "Now come on. Let's take care of the food, shall we?"

Dinner was a raucous affair, fueled with bountiful platters of deliciousness that even included garlic knots. Not quite like Mom's, but Hunk had done his darnedest, and Lance was grateful. Someone opened the meal by asking the blue paladin what his craziest birthday story was, and after Lance had regaled them all with the tale of how the bathroom plumbing had exploded in the middle of his ninth birthday party Pidge chimed in with the time Matt managed to set the dining room tablecloth on fire. Then it was a free-for-all, swapping stories and laughing at shared memories as they plowed their way through the festive spread. By the time the forks stopped tinking against the plates Lance's face ached from smiling even as his stomach ached from so much food.

For a long moment they all sat in comfortable silence, satiated and warmed by good company. Then Hunk clapped his hands and got to his feet. "All right, guys, let's get this show on the road. Pidge, Keith—"

"We're right with you." The girl jumped up and began clearing away dishes, eying Lance sidelong. "Um, what about—"

"I know." Shiro raised an eyebrow at the blue paladin. "Hey, Lance, you up for a game of checkers?"

"Uh… sure." Lance followed his leader out of the dining hall. Paused in the doorway to eye the stifled grins on the faces behind him, and edged after Shiro. "Um. Should I be afraid?"

"Afraid?" The black paladin chuckled. "Of course not. We do have a few more things planned for the evening, though."

"So… it won't kill me, but I still might get jumped with something that almost might."

"Well, I won't jump you," Shiro said virtuously. "Can't make any promises for the others, though."

Hoo boy…

They set up the game in what had become the game corner of the lounge. Lance yielded the black checkers to Shiro, and the pair hunched over the board with intense concentration. As always in checkers, the first few moves were inconclusive, but after several minutes both paladins had begun to accrue decent collections of each other's pieces. Lance leaned back on one hand, studying the board as he figured out his next move, and smirked at his opponent. "You know, back home, I was the reigning checkers champion."

"Big talk for a guy about to get wiped off the map," Shiro grinned back. "And I hear that, back home, you were also known as 'The Tailor'. Pretty sure that didn't turn out too well."

"Hey, I've gotten better!" The blue paladin wrinkled his nose, affronted. "Bet I could run circles around the Garrison pilots now. In Blue, anyway."

"Hmm. I'd take that bet."

Lance blinked. Twice. "You… what?"

"I'm serious." Grey eyes were smiling, but with warmth, not laughter. "You guys have all become good pilots. Very good pilots. And out of all of us, you were the first paladin, and you've been a great teammate ever since. You've done good work, Lance. I'm glad I've got you to watch my back."

"I…" Lance swallowed. "Thanks, Shiro. That means a lot."

"Of course—" The older man leaned forward, smile edging into a teasing grin— "it does help that you've got a sentient ship that can go faster than the speed of light. If you ever went toe to toe with a Garrison ship, that might count as cheating."

"Not my fault they're still in the Stone Age," Lance grinned back. "Hey, how bad of a heart attack do you think Commander Iverson will have if he ever fines out his crazy flunker cadets are flying alien spaceships?"

Shiro laughed. "They'd better have an AED handy when he gets that bit of news!"

"Sure hope I'm there to see it. Even better, get it on video." The blue paladin reached for a checker, smirking as he hopped it twice. "And by the way… king me."

"…Darn you." Shiro placed one of his captured checkers on the triumphant piece. Narrowed his eyes at the board, and jumped his own checker over one of Lance's. "And I thought this was going so well."

"Hey, you're actually trying to beat the birthday boy? What kind of monster are you?"

"One who plays by the rules, troublemaker."

"Oh, I'm the troublemaker now? Who technically wasn't breaking his agreement earlier to not place a louloodi during training?"

"Hey, I wasn't! That was totally fair!"

"Sure it was."

"Yes, it definitely was!"

"If you say so, O wise and intrepid leader."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. Except you're definitely putting some weight behind Pidge's theory that you're actually six."

"That's not the way leap year birthdays work and you know it."

"Aaand there you go again with the rules-lawyering."

"Is that what you call pointing out the way things are?"

"No, it's what I call finding loopholes and crawling right through them."

"That's just adhering to the letter of the law."

"Uh-huh, right. You do know Keith and Pidge are going to give you grief about that training thing forever?"

"Oh, we definitely are," said a voice from the door.

Both paladins turned to look at Keith, who grinned at them over folded arms and nodded toward the couches. "Hate to interrupt such an entertaining argument, but I think you guys should move down there before the parade gets here."

"Parade…?" Lance darted a glance at Shiro, but his friend just grinned and swung over the back of one of the couches to drop happily onto the cushions. The blue paladin cautiously followed suit, keeping one eye on Keith and the open door as he did so. Keith grinned at him and stuck his head through the doorway.

"All set in here, guys!"

Outside, someone giggled.

Then they were marching in, singing at the top of their lungs while Coran proudly brought up the rear with a floating serving cart on which rested a blue-iced cake adorned with candles. The steward beamed at Lance as he brought the cart to a halt in front of the blue paladin, half a beat behind the other singers as he tried to keep up with the old Earth tune.

Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday dear La-ance—

The singers paused just long enough to draw breath. Lance grinned, and braced himself.

Happy birthday tooo yooouuu!

Whoops and laughter rang through the room as Keith and Pidge blasted the blue paladin with their squawker horns and Shiro, Allura, and Hunk all fired off confetti poppers. Lance tried to fend off the enthusiastic assault, not sure if his face would hold together from smiling so hard. "You guys are crazy, you know that, right?"

"We have to be crazy to be friends with you." Keith jabbed him in the ribs with the tip of his horn. "Go on, hurry up and blow out the candles. I want cake!"

"Make a wish!" Hunk chimed in.

Lance brushed a bit of confetti out of his face. Thought for a moment.

Leaned forward, and blew.

He didn't have to race Rachel this year, to get the most candles. He missed that. But looking at the circle of happy faces around him… this was still a good birthday.

Scratch that. A great birthday.

Amid the cheers, Coran produced a cake cutter with a flourish and deftly sliced into what was obviously Hunk's creation, sky blue icing trimmed with white and topped with an iced bundle of Voltron-colored balloons and white-piped Happy birthday, Lance! Pidge slid down to help the steward with the plates, hazel eyes gleaming behind her glasses. "I call second slice!"

"Hey, I made it!" Hunk protested. "I should get second slice!"

"Hang on now, guys." Shiro waved a pacifying hand. "We all placed louloodia, right? So how about we get our pieces in the order we placed them?"

"Sounds fair to me." Keith flopped onto the couch with a smirk. "And that does mean we all get ours before you do. Guess that's your payback for cheating."

The black paladin tried for injured outrage. He didn't quite make it. "I didn't cheat!"

"I'm pretty sure you definitely did."

"I followed exactly what we agreed to!"

"Showers definitely count as part of training."

Shiro opened his mouth to protest further—then grinned broadly, and turned to Allura. "Princess, what you you decide? Does placing a louloodi in the showers after training, when you agreed not to place one during training, count as cheating?"

The girl raised an eyebrow in an attempt to look severe, even as laughter played at the corners of her mouth. "So whatever I decide, you will abide by?"

"Well…" Shiro's smile went toothy. "I definitely didn't cheat."

"Hmm, then why are you asking me?"

"Because he says I did! And I didn't!"

Lance snickered as he stuck a fork into his slice of cake. "Man, you really sound like a six-year-old now."

"I do not!"

"Are you even listening to yourself?" Pidge smirked.

Shiro groaned and threw an arm across his face. "You guys are insufferable."

"Fancy words from the toddler," Keith fired back.

"Hey…"

Lance took another bite of cake—Hunk had really outdone himself this time, the confection all but melted in his mouth and tasted of vanilla and buttercream—and grinned at the others around the deliciousness. "How about this, guys. I use my powers as the birthday boy to declare that Shiro didn't cheat, and we all stuff our faces with this amazing cake instead of arguing?"

"I thought we were going to stuff our faces anyway," Keith protested.

"Well, yeah, but let's not argue while doing it."

"Okay, okay, if you insist." The red paladin sighed dramatically and took a large bite of his own slice. Sighed again, this time in pleasure. "Hunk, this is amazing."

"Glad you like it," the large boy grinned back. "Thanks for the help with the icing."

"Wait, wait, wait." Lance held up his hands. "Keith helped you decorate a cake?"

"Well, yeah." Hunk shrugged. "I did the fancy bits, but he chipped in with the basic stuff."

The blue paladin blinked. Turned to stare at the boy at his elbow. "Since when do you do kitchen anything?"

Keith rolled his eyes. "Hunk's been teaching me. Apparently the kitchen stock when you guys crashed my place was atrocious and no human being should ever have such miserable food. Or something like that."

"No, that's about right." Hunk dug into his slice of cake with relish. "I mean, what did you eat there, man? Cactuses?"

"Cactus juice," Pidge muttered. "It's the quenchiest!"

Shiro choked, his face going beet red as he tried to cough up inhaled cake while laughing at the same time. A smirking Allura pounded him on the back. "Cake is for eating, not breathing, Shiro. Although perhaps a six-year-old isn't quite aware of that."

The man tried to glare at her, eyes tearing as his respiratory system rebelled against him. "Not… you… too…"

Lance high-fived the green paladin. "Nice one!"

"Speaking of nice ones…" Coran twirled his mustache. "Shall we bring out that last item?"

"Might want to wait until Shiro can breathe again," Keith said wryly. Raised an eyebrow at his wheezing leader. "You good over there? Or does someone need to give you CPR?"

Pidge put a hand to her mouth to cover her mock whisper, grinning wickedly. "I bet he'd love for Allura to give him CPR."

Shiro went a truly alarming shade of red, coughing violently as Allura snickered into her hand. The other paladins showed no such restraint, cackling like hyenas while their eldest member tried to make his lungs work properly through streaming eyes and burning face. Hunk joined in the laughter, but took pity on the black paladin and offered him one of the glasses of water resting on the cart. "Here, man, this might help."

Shiro sputtered on the first swallow, but it did seem to get his airway open again, and he sucked in a raspy breath as he narrowed his eyes at Pidge. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Not at all!" The girl flashed him an innocent smile. "Just pointing out the obvious!"

Shiro took another careful sip of water, very definitely not looking at the grinning Allura. Eyed the circle of smirking faces, and pinched the bridge of his nose, effectively covering his line of sight—and his flaming cheeks. "Just… get on with it, will you?"

The others exchanged delighted grins. Then the princess slipped off the couch and crouched on the opposite side of the cart from Lance. Hunk and Coran stepped in to help her remove an item from beneath the cart's lacy cloth, and she rose holding a large black case whose familiarity startled Lance into sitting bolt upright. The girl stepped smoothly around the cart and placed the object in the blue paladin's lap, smiling at the dawning wonder in his eyes. "This is from all of us, Lance. With our love and best wishes."

Lance couldn't take his eyes off the case as his hands fumbled on the clasps and eased open the lid. He had done this so, so many times before, when Luis had given him his first lessons and then when he'd gotten one of his own…

The inside of the case was lined with velvet of the deepest black, but that was only a footnote to the wonder of the case's contents. Lance set the case on the floor in an almost dreamlike state and lifted from it a beautifully crafted acoustic guitar. Finished with a glossy black pick guard that matched the fretboard and tuning pegs, the instrument's body was painted a deep midnight blue. And beneath the bridge, surrounded by a tumble of cerulean hibiscus blossoms that curled around the edge of the guitar like a crashing wave, bounded the Blue Lion. Captured in profile, the one visible yellow eye seemed to wink up at the paladin as he ran his hand over the sleek finish. And… yes, there around the sides ran the other four Lions, smaller than Blue though no less true to life, and with them was the Castle and even a tiny Kaltenecker, drifting among the overflowing cascade of hibiscus flowers. Lance traced the designs with a finger, scarcely able to breathe. "Guys, I… How?"

"It was Keith's idea," Shiro replied. His cheeks were still a bit pink, but he was at least breathing properly now as he grinned at the astonished blue paladin. "The rest of us chipped in on what we could remember about guitars, and Pidge did some digging through secondhand shops for extra stuff, and Coran found a guy who could make it for us. We all helped with the painting design. You like it?"

"Like it?" Lance laughed, and choked, and pressed a fist to his mouth as something caught in his throat and prickled at his eyes. "I—guys, I love it."

Keith nudged his shoulder and pointed with his chin toward the case. "There's picks and a strap and tuner in there. And one of those string clip things."

"Capo," Lance corrected almost absently, reaching for the case. He wasted no time fishing out a pick and the tuner and tweaking the strings until they sang in proper harmony. That funny feeling in his throat slid down into his chest, hot and tight and aching and happy all at once, and even though it hurt he couldn't stop himself grinning until his face felt like it might crack as the old sounds and motions and memories fell into place. The others had all settled onto the surrounding couches with an expectant air and the blue paladin looked around the circle, wondering at just how happy the others seemed to be because he was happy. "I—um, what should I play?"

"I dunno." Pidge pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, grinning at him over her kneecaps. "What do you know?"

"Lots of stuff. It's just been a while."

"Maybe get warmed up first," Hunk suggested.

Lance strummed his way through a series of chords, played snippets from several favorite songs. Tinkered with the tuning a couple times, and tried a few fancy riffs. Plucked absently at the strings, a bit startled to realize how self-conscious he felt under the scrutiny of so many eyes, friendly or otherwise. "Uh, guys, I'm not sure I really remember too much all that well…"

"Hey, we're not expecting you to play for us," Hunk grinned at him. "We're just glad you're enjoying yourself."

"Ain't that the truth." Lance strummed a chord, savoring the rich timbre of the instrument in his hands. "This thing is fantastic. You guys really shouldn't have gone to all that effort."

"Yes, we should have." Shiro raised a severe eyebrow, but his eyes twinkled. "You deserve it."

"It does sound lovely." Allura rested her chin on her hand, listening with obvious interest. "What sort of songs do you usually play?"

Lance shrugged. "All kinds. Pop, rock, folk, stuff from movies…"

An idea twigged at his memory, fueled by the smiles and the cozy, almost intimate atmosphere. Not the easiest one to play, but…

"It seems to be quite a versatile instrument," the princess remarked. "How long have you been playing?"

"My brother first started teaching me when I was nine or ten." Lance checked his tuning again and began to pluck out a melody. Softly, just to see if anyone recognized it. "I really started putting effort into it maybe around twelve."

At his elbow Pidge shifted, head coming up to listen. Hunk leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and Shiro smiled. "You know that one?"

"I do, yeah." Lance grinned at the black paladin. "I can give it a shot. You guys wanna join?"

"Don't know if I remember all the words," Hunk said regretfully. "I'll do my best, though."

"Fine by me."

He took a breath, letting the strings sing into silence as he tapped his fingers against the guitar's edge.

Then the first chord filled the room with glorious sound, rich and clear and soaring to the ceiling. Memory settled his hands into patterns they didn't know they remembered, and the driving beat loosened that tightness in his chest as he breathed again, and found his voice.

Put your faith in what you most believe in
Two worlds, one family
Trust your heart
Let fate decide
To guide these lives we see

It was easier than he'd expected. Soothing, even, as familiar music and bittersweet memory crept in to warm the last cold corners the rest of the day's joys had not yet been able to reach. On either side of him Keith and Pidge began to tap out the rhythm, while Hunk stumbled through the words and Shiro hummed along. Lance grinned at them.

A paradise untouched by man
Within this world blessed with love
A simple life, they live in peace

Softly tread the sand below your feet now
Two worlds, one family
Trust your heart
Let fate decide
To guide these lives we see

Coran's face hovered somewhere between wistfulness and delight, while Allura beamed like the rising sun. The other paladins all wore similar grins, Shiro's so broad that it threatened to spoil his humming. Their delight was infectious, and Lance felt his own face beginning to ache from so much smiling.

Beneath the shelter of the trees
Only love can enter here
A simple life, they live in peace

Raise your head up
Lift high the load
Take strength from those that need you
Build high the walls
Build strong the beams
A new life is waiting
But danger's no stranger here

Well, wasn't that the truth. They all risked life and limb almost every day. But with Voltron, with their team, their crazy, ridiculous, wonderful team patched together from Alteans and humans pulled from the furthest corners of the universe…

Yeah. This song was a good pick.

No words describe a mother's tears
No words can heal a broken heart
A dream is gone, but where there's hope

Somewhere something is calling for you
Two worlds, one family
Trust your heart
Let fate decide
To guide these lives we see

Lance let the music die away, bringing the song to a gentle close. Drank in every last drop of the final notes, shimmering in the air, as contented sighs breathed around him, and looked up at the circle of happy faces. Pidge's expression was bittersweet, while Keith had a weird little grin and Hunk and Coran were smiling through suspiciously glassy eyes. Allura's delight lit up the room, and Shiro—

Lance blinked. The black paladin was smiling too, with a warmth that oddly reminded Lance of the look his dad used to give him when he'd done something exceptionally well. A look of… pride?

What did I do? It was just a song.

"Man." Hunk sniffled loudly, and beamed at his friend. "That was awesome, Lance."

"Yeah," Pidge chimed in. "Great song pick too."

"Hey, I think we've established by now that Disney is pretty much the best thing there is," Lance grinned at them. "And Phil Collins is, like, the best."

"I guess I'll have to give you that one," Keith said wryly. "Survivor's still a close second, though."

Lance sighed in mock resignation. "You and your rock 'n' roll."

"What about me and my rock 'n' roll?"

"We'll have to pry it from your cold, dead hands, won't we?"

"Sounds about right," Shiro chuckled, leaving his place on the couch beside Allura to wedge himself between the two bantering paladins. He threw an easy arm around Lance's shoulders as he raised an amused eyebrow at Keith. "Survivor's your favorite band, aren't they? What's your favorite one of their songs?"

"They're the ones who did 'Eye of the Tiger', right?" Hunk asked from the opposite couch.

"Yeah, they are." Keith frowned as he combed through memory. "If I had to pick a favorite… probably 'Fire Makes Steel'. I think."

"Don't know that one," Lance reflected, picking gently at the guitar strings. "Guess you'll have to teach me sometime."

"Might be in the karaoke machine," Pidge piped up.

The red paladin grinned at her around Lance and Shiro. "Hey, good idea!"

"An idea we will not investigate tonight," Allura cut in, smiling even as she raised severe eyebrows at the little assembly. "It's late, and we should start getting ready for bed."

Shiro let out a gusty sigh. "I guess someone has to be the voice of reason."

"And that's not you?" the princess fired back.

The black paladin grinned at her. "Since when has it ever been?"

Allura folded her arms, trying to glare. Her twitching mouth betrayed her. "Hmm, you make a good point. Why do we keep you around?"

"To make bad jokes and choke on cake?" Lance offered cheekily.

Shiro whacked him lightly on the head. "Oh, shut up, you."

Lance ducked away, laughing, but Shiro dragged him back by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug, managing to squeeze him tightly without crushing the louloodia between them. The startled blue paladin froze for a moment. Then grinned, and got one arm around his friend in return, the other hanging protectively onto the guitar. Pidge rescued the instrument and laid it gently in its case, smirking at Shiro. "Hug pile?"

"Sure."

Next thing he knew Lance was swarmed by grins and warm arms as the other members of his team squashed in to join the hug, Pidge pressing up on his other side while Keith knelt on the couch behind Shiro with one hand on the black paladin's shoulders and the other on Hunk's. Those who couldn't fit on the couch put arms around those who could, forming a happy mass of multi-layered embrace as they all laughed at the ridiculous chaos. A bit dazed, entangled in hugs, Lance grinned up at the friends surrounding him. Shiro caught his eye, and smiled back.

"Happy birthday, Lance."

This chapter was written in part because I've seen a lot of stuff bashing the rest of the team for not supporting Lance, and while we granted don't see much of it on screen there's no way anyone will ever convince me that they don't give 110% for him just like he does for them. Sure, they might not catch every single thing he could use some comfort and company for, but nobody ever does. They're not perfect, but they're trying their darnedest. Give them a break. Also, I really wanted Lance to have a painted guitar. Hee.

The song is Phil Collins' "Two Worlds, One Family" from Tarzan.

If you don't know where the cactus juice line came from, go watch Avatar: The Last Airbender. And then go read Vathara's Embers fic, because it takes a fantastic show and makes it ten times better.

The Altean words actually have real-world roots (for once), all from Greek.

Prosfora/prosfores = offering/offerings

Louloodi/louloodia comes from louloudi/louloudia = flower/flowers

Almyra = savory

I've seen a couple things about how Pidge handles her period in space, but all of them seem to assume Alteans don't have periods. Which is a shame, because it is so much funnier to me to imagine Pidge and Allura syncing up. It increases the terror level exponentially. Also, Matt Holt would definitely have knowledge of Shark Week by the time he got to the Garrison. Scientists, especially those around the biological sciences (and I have my reasons for headcanoning Mrs. Holt being involved in biochem) tend to be pretty straightforward about bodies and biological processes—knowledge (and attitude) we then gleefully inflict upon everyone around us.

The "why did the plane crash" thing is a real how-sleepy-are-you test my friends and I used in college. It actually works; if you're past the point of no return into slap-happy sleep deprivation, you usually can't resist falling apart laughing at the question and answer's absurdity, especially if it's delivered with a huge grin. Veterans of this phrase, who may have become desensitized to its innate ridiculousness, can often have their true sleepiness exposed with the following addition to the answer: "but it would have been funnier if he were a pancake!" This is the important life information I learned in college. And yes, I have been in Allura's state of hysterics before. Many times, actually.

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