With the wedding only two days off, Keith sat in his soon-to-be-vacated quarters contemplating the future. Around him were the stacked boxes of personal items that he had accumulated since he had come to Arus.

Keith's hand began to tremble as he packed. The photographs, citations and gifts reminded him of all that he had experienced and all that he had achieved over the last four years. He swore vehemently under his breath, what the hell had he gotten himself into?

He sank down on his bed and closed his eyes. An entire planet was counting on him, not to defend them or save them from an enemy, but to marry their princess, protect her from all harm and secure the line of succession. Images of what he would have to do, what he wanted to do, flashed through his head. His body stirred in response.

There was no doubt about it, a physical relationship with Allura would be immensely satisfying. He had known enough women to know that beauty was one thing, but passion and spirit took everything to the next level...

But it wouldn't be right, an inner voice whispered in his ear. The situation was complicated enough already. Even after four years, they were barely friends. For their marriage to work, they had to have time to get to know each other and make sense of their relationship.

Physical intimacy, he admitted to himself with a pang of regret would complicate things even further. For his sanity, he had to keep his distance. He was confused enough as it was already.

He decided that a drink might help him settle his nerves and reached for the ginger-ale bottle that he kept hidden in his dresser. He had just twisted the cap off when Lance knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for a response.

"Hey Keith. There's someone here who wants to see you."

"Just wanted to see if you needed help with anything, Captain," Jeff entered the room and snapped a jaunty salute.

"Jeff!"

"That's my name. Don't wear it out." Jeff grinned at him.

"What the blazes are you doing here? Did we invite you?"

Lance raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Jeff here is the official representative of the other Voltron Force. Their Voltron is going through regular maintenance and the others had to stay behind to oversee it. We were discussing his impending arrival during dinner, don't you remember?"

Keith grinned and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I guess I wasn't listening. My mind must have been on other things." Suddenly remembering something, he looked up at Lance with alarmed eyes. "Hey, wait a minute. If Jeff's here, then the transport from Terra arrived already and I was supposed to have a package… "

"Don't worry about it," Lance laughed, reaching into his pocket for a small package wrapped in heavy brown paper. "I passed by for it when I went down to pick-up Jeff. Catch!"

"Be careful with that!" Keith yelped as he scrambled off the bed. He caught the package and tore off the wrapper, revealing a black velvet box. "It's Allura's wedding ring. It from my grandmother's favorite jeweler, back on Terra." He opened the box and nodded with approval, "Great. It's exactly what I ordered."

Jeff laughed and wiggled his eyebrows with a bald grin, "Sure, hope you spent a bundle on the ring. I know I would— especially if I was the one getting married to a gorgeous babe like your princess."

Lance controlled the urge to start laughing. He was smart enough to know when it was too dangerous to show amusement and this was definitely one of those times. He shot at glance at Keith and noticed the stormy eyes, carefully controlled expression and the fist clenched at the captain's side.

Jeff knew exactly what buttons to push to make Keith's life miserable — he had years of practice teasing Keith, after all he and Keith had been roommates at the academy. It was a measure of Keith's self-control that Jeff was still alive.

But maybe not for long. Lance noticed with alarm that Keith had set down the ring box and now held a bottle in a club-like grip. He grabbed it from his friend, deciding to remove all weapons from the vicinity. He didn't want to have to explain to Coran and Galaxy Garrison how the commanders of BOTH Voltron Forces managed to meet their untimely demise at each other's hands.

Lance shot Jeff a warning look and launched into another topic to discuss. His gaze fell on the bottle that he held, as if it promised salvation. "Hey Jeff, look at this— Ginger Ale! Boy, that's a blast from the past. It's been years since we graduated from the academy and Keith still keeps his liquor in a ginger-ale bottle!"

Jeff shook his head laughingly. "You shouldn't be surprised, Lance. Camouflage. Standard procedure in Covert Operations, my friend. You should remember that class. Terry the Terror almost flunked you when he found out you were dating his daughter."

"Sour grapes, old man," Lance retorted. "Tullia was gorgeous and you know it. You were just jealous because she turned you down. Besides, it was worth it seeing Terry the T's eyes bug out when you made that little announcement about us when he called you during one of his graded recitations."

Keith found some glasses and began pouring a generous amount of brandy into them, his irritation at Jeff forgotten. "The rest of the class wanted to lynch the two of you though. We barely had time to sleep or eat after Jeff's announcement. Terrance took a special joy in making our lives hell after that."

"I apologize, Sir Galahad, we're not all perfect, noble knights like yourself," Lance snapped back. "At least we gave the rest of the academy something to talk about."

Jeff chuckled wryly, "Lancelot, our class ALWAYS gave the rest of the academy to talk about." He accepted the glass Keith handed him and lifted it in a toast, "And may they never stop talking about the us."

The other two smiled in acknowledgement of the truth in Jeff's words and raised their glasses as well. "To the Black Knights."

They began to reminisce about their escapades at the academy — how much trouble they got into and how many demerits they had to work off. Then, they began to catch up on their adventures with their respective Voltron Forces, laughing uproariously and drinking all the while.