A/N: I do not own Voltron, any of its characters, and so on. Thanks to Red Lion and Braidwhip for their reviews.
Lance stormed through the Castle of Lions for almost an hour before he figured out that Lissa had chosen to flee to someplace outside. His first thought as he tromped across the inner courtyard was that she could be exposed to danger if she left the castle, what with Roe Beasts and Lotor's henchmen running around. He wouldn't put it past those idiots to kidnap Lissa by mistake, confusing her with Princess Allura since she was a female. Lotor's lackeys didn't have a brain between the entire lot of them. It didn't matter to Lance that Lissa was here as Prince Ower's bodyguard. A person had to just look at her to see how dainty she was. She needed to be cared for, to be protected, and Lance had always done so in the past. He never stopped to consider what she'd done in the years since their separation to protect herself.
He was muttering to himself under his breath when he reached the castle lake. It was just like her to run away from her problems. Running had always been easier for Lissa. At least where matters of the heart were concerned. She would stand toe to toe with anyone over politics, government, and the running of armed forces, but let a guy mention love, and she was gone so fast she left a person's head spinning. She'd run away years before, and he knew she'd do it again if he didn't find her first.
He paused to look around, his gaze scanning the horizon, and then he saw her. Less then a dozen feet away, her back turned to him as she pensively gazed down into the waters of the lake. He stalked up to her, trying to control the emotions seething within him and failing miserably. "Here you are," he cheerfully called out, noting the way she stiffened at the sound of his voice. "I thought you might be long gone by now, what with your penchant for running away."
Lissa whirled around, her silver eyes darkening to a rich gray, her expression almost haughty as she looked down her nose at him. A difficult thing to do, considering he was a foot taller then she was. "I did not run away. Prince Ower ordered me to excuse myself, and so I did."
"Right," Lance replied, his mouth pulled into a crooked smirk. "That's not what I was referring to, but I'm sure you know that. How did you end up being that pompous idiot's bodyguard, anyway?"
Lissa shrugged, her shoulders moving with the same elegant grace he remembered so clearly. "He petitioned the Legion for protection, and they sent me to be his guardian."
Lance crossed his arms over his chest and frowned down at her. "Why would they send a little thing like you?" he asked, ignoring the way she bristled at his words. "You could get hurt."
"Yes, well, I'm afraid that does tend to happen when you are a member of the most elite fighting force in the Universe," Lissa commented. "And size has nothing to do with ability. You should know that," she sweetly added.
A dull blush spread over Lance's cheeks as he stared at her in stunned silence for a moment before he managed to recover. "Considering you never got the goods, sweetheart, I hope you weren't making a reference to me just now. You wouldn't know one way or another."
Lissa gritted her teeth and hissed, "Oh, but I'm sure there have been plenty of women who have first hand knowledge about such things. I could always ask them."
Lance grinned at her, enjoying the way she glared at him. "Ah, sweetheart, what's the matter? Are you jealous? I suppose I could be persuaded to give you a free sample, if you asked me to. Maybe on your knees…?"
Lissa drew herself up to her full five feet and snapped, "Stop calling me that! I am not your sweetheart! And the idea of me being jealous of all the women you've known over the years is as ridiculous as your notion that I'd ever get on my knees and ask you for anything!"
Lissa was almost screaming at him by the time she'd finished her sentence, and her eyes had lightened to a dangerous shade, like the edges of thunderclouds during a storm. Lance continued to smile at her, knowing he had the upper hand at the moment, because whenever someone lost their temper, they lost a fight, his captain always said. Keith had actually taught him something useful after all. Imagine that.
"Calm down, honey, there's no need to yell. I can hear you just fine," he murmured, deliberately using another pet name to annoy her, his voice tinged with amusement.
"Perhaps, but can you understand me?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "If you recall, I never wanted what you had to offer in the past, and I certainly haven't changed my mind."
The words were a low blow, and they both knew it. Once upon a time, he had given his heart to her, and pursued her with an amorous devotion that made Lotor's infatuation with Allura seem like a child's crush. He had given her everything of himself, his mind, his heart, his soul. She had chosen to reject his body, and while it had pained him, he'd respected her wishes, up to the day she walked out on him. Lance paled and took a step away from her, unable to believe she'd said something so cruel. It was evidence, he supposed, of how upset she really was. Lissa was never mean unless she was desperate. But he couldn't allow her to hurt him in such a way, not without paying a price.
"Oh, I remember, now that you mention it. You always did have ice running through your veins, instead of blood," he shot back. "You never knew how to act like a real woman."
Lissa's eyes widened in pain, and it was her turn to step away. She had always been more interested in the more masculine things in life, such as war and politics, and men had always been drawn to her because of her interests and looks. This had alienated her from other women, and she'd always felt alone. When they had been together, she had often told him he deserved someone who knew how to be like a normal woman, someone who knew how to make him feel like a man. She'd never understood that it was her unique outlook on life that he'd loved the most about her, and Lance knew it.
Lissa's eyes closed for a moment, masking her pain, and then she sighed wearily and turned away from him. "Enough of this. I have nothing to say to you. Please, just go away."
"I don't think so," Lance retorted, angry with himself for wanting to comfort her at that moment when she was the one who'd shed first blood in this discussion. "I want some answers, Lissa. You owe it to me."
Lissa bowed her head, and then slowly whispered, "No, not right now. I can't. Please, just leave. I can't even look at you."
Lance didn't understand what she meant. True, he'd been nasty to her a moment ago, but her words hinted at a much older pain. He took a step toward her, but paused when a new voice intruded.
"You heard the lady. I believe she said she didn't want to talk to you right now, little boy. So why don't you do as she asks and leave of your own free will, before I make you."