THE NEW ARRIVALS - DAY FOUR

“Dexter, wake up,” I tug at the big toe of a foot sticking out from under a crumpled pile of sheets with a blanket piled up on the bed. “We gotta go get you fitted for your tux this morning. The Royal Tailor is waiting for everyone to show. Get up!”

“Whahuh?” An unruly mop of blonde hair pokes out from the other end of the comforter. Dexter squints at me.

“Day off, Tasia, Team Three in charge,” he mutters and disappears under the blanket again. I sigh and fold my arms.

“I know that, but we’re supposed to go down to - will you just get up? Come on.” I tug at his toe again. I get more protesting, louder this time, then he rolls over onto his back and sits up, scratching at his chest through his T-shirt.

“Fitted for what…?” He yawns and stretches. “The uniforms are taken care of already.”

I swear this man can be no blonder than he is first thing in the morning…

“Not the uniforms, your tuxedo. Remember the dinner after the poetry contest? It’s supposed to be formal, black tie affair?”

“Contest,” he replies as he rubs at his eyes. “Tuxedo…yeah.” He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, stands up and stumbles toward the bathroom. He’s got on his smiley face boxers. Cute.

He vanishes through the door and I hear the sound of water running a few moments later. I take the opportunity to straighten up the bed while he’s getting clean. Once it looks like someone could actually sleep in it I start collecting the clothes that are tossed everywhere. Good thing Keith doesn’t insist on regular inspections of everyone’s private quarters, or the boy would be in trouble.

Dexter comes out of the bathroom with his hair still wet and a towel wrapped around his hips just as I snag the last crumpled T-shirt from the floor. He stops dead in his tracks to gawk at me.

“Hey, what are you doing?” His voice has an edge of near-panic to it. He rushes over and grabs the bundle of clothes I have draped over my arm before I can get anywhere near the hamper.

“I’m cleaning up this disaster area you call your bedroom, that’s what I’m doing. Gimme those.” I reach for the clothes and he steps back, looking defensive as he clutches them to himself.

“Uh-uh. There’s still some things that can be put to use in here.”

I put my hands on my hips. “I know you didn’t mean that.”

“Sure I do. Look.” He tosses the pile onto the bed and fishes out a powder blue, long-sleeved shirt. “This has no wrinkles, and -” he takes a sniff at it. “Smells just fine. See? Perfectly useful.” He arches an eyebrow at my tapping foot. “What?”

“Give me that.” I snatch the shirt from his hand and point to a spot on the floor by the end of his bed. “Stand right there. Don’t you move, either.”

“But - !”

“Do it, lionboy. Don’t make me have to hurt you.”

He puts on a pout and walks over to stand where I told him to. I scoop up the rest of the clothes on the bed and drop them in the hamper along with the shirt he picked out, and then I head for the closet. I choose a dark blue shirt with a silky sort of look and feel to it, a pair of charcoal-colored dress slacks and a black belt. I drape them neatly across the bed and head for his dresser to find a matching pair of socks. He’s grinning when I finally look around at him.

“You forgot the underwear, unless you don‘t want me to wear any...” He waggles his eyebrows.

I sigh to myself and search his dresser to retrieve a pair of black silk boxers, which I place on the bed beside the rest of his clothes. “There’s what you’re wearing for your appointment.” I point at the ensemble. “Now get yourself dressed so we can get going.”

He tilts his head and smiles ever so slightly. “What, you’re not going to help me?” He smiles a little wider. I let my gaze travel along his torso and try to look as detached as possible. Wet, naked Dexter. Mmm. I would love to toss him on his back right about now, but this is not the time for it. I roll my eyes and feign indifference instead.

“If I help you, we aren’t gonna get to the appointment at all.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“You need to behave, lionboy. Go on and get dressed.” I head for the door and step out into the hall. A little while later he emerges from the room, buttoning the last button on the front of his shirt. He spreads his arms wide and smiles. “Looky, Mom, I put my clothes on all by myself! Do I get a cookie?”

“Umm-hmm, I’ll give you a cookie, all right.” I walk around him, fix his collar (I swear he never gets it right), take one last look. Sweet. The boy cleans up nice. I smile at him and he looks greatly pleased with himself as we start down the hall.

Alan steps out of his room as we pass his door. He has on a nice shirt, vest and slacks combo. Even Galen is tidied up when he meets up with us at the end of the hall. He’s dressed in a neat little sweater-shirt that matches his eyes and slacks of a darker color. He falls in step with the rest of us, then we all pause as we reach the tower elevator. Alan and Dexter exchange looks.

“We’re missing someone…” Alan says.

“Dunkirk.” Galen looks slightly apprehensive.

“You go wake him up,” Dexter says to Alan.

“Why me?” Alan protests. “You’re the Captain.”

“Yes, I am. And as Captain, I can delegate responsibility. He’s all yours.”

“Galen hasn’t had a turn yet.”

“I don’t wanna,” Galen whimpers. “I’m small, he’ll hurt me!”

“Oh, come on, y’all,” I say to them. “What is up with this? What’s the problem?”

They all turn and look at me as if I’ve just grown a third eye in the middle of my forehead.

“This is Dunkirk we’re taking about,” Galen says, as if that’s supposed to explain everything.

“Uh-huh. So…?”

“So,” Alan replies. “When he first wakes up in the morning, he can be a real bear. You really don’t want to be around when it happens. It can get ugly.”

“Fine, if you’re all too chicken to do it, then I’ll go wake him up. Be right back.” I turn on my heel and start back down the hall.

“Tasia! Tasia…wait!” Dexter runs to catch up with me. “You might not want to do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because he can get really mean when he’s been rudely awakened. Let us handle it.”

“Us?” Alan says with dismay in his voice. “What ‘us’?”

“Us as in the three of us. Come on, you guys.” Dexter makes a come hither wave of the hand and starts around me. Alan and Galen follow reluctantly. I bring up the rear just out of curiosity. Dunny’s a big guy but he’s a pushover, just like Hunk is. He can’t be that bad…

Dexter walks up to Dunkirk’s bedroom door and tries the button. The door is locked, so he types in the override code. Then he turns to Alan and Galen with an expression so serious I’d almost think they were about to break into Hagar’s lab or something.

“Okay, Galen, you get to be the button man,” Dexter says. “Alan and I are going to go in and try to shake him awake. If that fails, we’re gonna yank the blankets and run like crazy.”

“Dude,” Galen says. “He’ll totally kill you if you do. You know how much he hates that.”

“Yes I do, but drastic times call for drastic measures. Just stand by to open the door the moment you hear us yell, all right? Now let’s get going.”

Galen nods and presses the button. Alan and Dexter tiptoe inside and the door slides shut behind them. Galen frowns at the lock panel.

“I think he only used the one-shot override,” Galen says. “The light’s red again.” He looks around at me. “Now what?”

“Can you hack it?”

“I can enter the Alpha code that the techs use to run diagnostics, but that’s like eighteen digits long. Dunkirk could slaughter them both long before that.”

“What if you enter all but the last digit, and wait?”

“That only lasts for about twenty seconds before it resets, though. They’d have to make sure that -”

“Bloody damn hell!” comes a yell through the door, then I hear Alan yelp, followed by a heavy thud. A second thump lands right against the door and makes Galen jump back from it.

“Galen, open the door!” Dexter yells through the comm. “Open the door!”

Galen goes back up to the panel to press the talk button. “I can’t. You used the temporary override. I have to enter the Alpha code. Stand by.”

“I did what? Agh - !” I hear the sound of pounding footsteps, then all noise abruptly halts.

“That’s right, me laddie,” I hear Dexter say. Freeze, and don’t you move a muscle or the bottle of Scotch gets it.”

“Captain,” Dunkirk replies, his voice laden with threat, “Ye can threaten me life an’ me limb, but when ye threaten me Scotch, there’s nae an officer’s rank in th’ whole bleedin’ universe that’ll save ye.”

“Got it!” Galen says and hits the last key. Alan stumbles through the door in blind panic, falls to his hands and knees and starts crawling away as fast as he can. Dexter, on the other hand, is backing through the door slowly, gripping Dunkirk’s precious decanter in both hands. Normally I’d think Dunkirk is just being overprotective, but that particular bottle was sent to him straight from Scotland itself, purchased by his proud stepfather as a graduation gift. I think it’s nearly as old as Galen is. Lionboy, you drop that and even I won’t be able to save you…

Dexter is completely in the hall now, still moving backward at a slow and steady pace. Dunkirk comes to the threshold, clad in nothing but a pair of boxers, his green eyes blazing.

“So help me, Captain, ye either give that back or th’ only fittin’ ye’ll get today is for a body cast! Mark me words.”

Dexter doesn’t reply, continuing to back off until he’s even with me, then he suddenly turns, shoves the bottle into my hands and sprints like he’s got a robeast at his heels.

“See you at the Royal Tailor’s!” he yells to me as he flees. Dunkirk takes two large steps out into the hall, stops cold and looks my way. He seems to be caught between running after Dexter or recovering his Scotch. I’m thinking that I’m certain which will win and hold out the bottle to him, but he just smiles and shakes his head.

“Hang onto that for a bit, will ye lass? I’m off t’ straighten out th’ Captain’s priorities for him.” That said, he takes off like a shot down the hall.

“Don’t bust anything!” I yell after him.

He pauses at the turn of a corner. “I swear I’ll nae break nothin’ on him that counts t’ ye, lass.” He gives me a wink, then he’s gone. Galen throws a worried look my way. I shrug, ruff his hair, then I walk into Dunkirk’s room, set the bottle on his dresser and leave. Once I’m sure the door is locked, Galen and I head for the Royal Tailor’s fitting room.

“Lance, will you please hold still for just a moment longer? I can assure you that when the suit is ready you’ll thank me for being so precise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I sigh and hold my arm out straight. “So tell me, Elizia, why is it that we have to get this done each and every time an occasion comes up when you already have everyone’s measurements on file?”

“Because while most measurements in length don’t change, the ones involving girth can vary from month to month, sometimes even from week to week. The seam allocations I made for last year’s suit may or may not apply to this year’s body.” She wraps the tape around my upper arm and studies it. “For example, you’ve gained nearly an inch on your bicep since the last time I took your measurements.”

I grin at her. “Wanna see where else I’ve got plenty of inches?”

“Why not? My tape has millimeters on it.”

“Ha, ha. You wanna make a bet on that? You’ll be -”

The door slides open and Alan rushes in, his brow furrowed in concern. He casts a quick, anxious look around the room, then he takes a chair that would conceal him from view of the next person to come through the entrance. About a minute later Dexter comes racing through the door. He’s all out of breath and his eyes are wide with fear.

“Angry Scotsman on the rampage!” he cries. “You didn’t see me!” Then he dashes down one of the side halls leading from the main room before anyone can respond.

“What in the world…?” Elizia mutters, staring in the direction that Dexter has gone. A moment later, the door slides open yet again and Dunkirk steps into the room. He looks like he wants to break something in half, the something in question probably being Dexter. Apparently the blonde guy got Dunkirk so ruffed that he saw fit to chase Dexter around in his boxers. Elizia studies Dunkirk as he pauses, sniffs the air and then heads down the hall Dexter disappeared through without speaking a word to either of us. Eliza watches after him as he goes.

“Now there’s a set of measurements I simply have to get,” she says with a smile. I roll my eyes. She smirks and gives me a wink before resuming my fitting.

“What do you think of this one?” Shannon strikes a pose in one of the half-dozen gowns she’s narrowed her choices down to and angles toward the mirror. “I think the slit in the side is a little high.” “Not for you, it isn’t,” Caro replies as she steps out of her pumps. “You’re the Leg Lady, remember?” Shannon sighs and puffs at her bangs. “Oh yes, silly me.” She takes a half turn, pouts at her reflection a little more. “Lynne, what do you think?” “I think you’re being too fussy, and you need to come over here and help me with this tiara. Hold onto it for me so I can get the rest of these hairpins in place.” “Oh, okay.” She walks over and begins to help me with my hair. Right then Dunkirk storms into the room. He’s angry and barely dressed. We all study him with looks of curiosity. “All right, Captain! Time t’ have yer day o’ reckonin’…!” His gaze falls on us and his expression changes immediately from rage to one of consternation. “Ah, beg yer pardon, lasses,” he stammers. “I, ahh…I was lookin’ for…ahh…” “Your tuxedo?” Shannon replies with a smirk. “It appears to be missing.” “Umm…” He glances down at himself and his cheeks redden. “Aye, that’s gotta be it. Uhh…” He pauses for a moment, unsure of what to say next. “Since I’ve got yer attention now, Lynne…I donna suppose ye’d like t’ be me date for that dinner o’ th’ princess’s, would ye?” I can’t believe this! He barges into my dressing room nearly naked and looking like he’s just fallen out of bed, and he has the nerve to - “Yes,” I hear myself say. “I’d love to.” He breaks into a big grin. “That’s kind o’ ye, lass. Ye’ve made me awful happy. I guess I ought t’ get me tux while I’m here now, shouldn’t I? Aye, I think I’ll do that. Good day t’ ye.” He dips his head to me, turns and strolls out, closing the door quietly behind him. Shannon and Caro both grin at me. “Don’t you even start…” I warn them. Caro feigns innocence. “What? I wasn’t going to say anything.” “Other than I believe that wasn’t a Lion in his pocket, he was happy to see you,” Shannon quips without missing a beat. I turn in my seat and throw a lace-edged cushion at her. She and Caro have a laugh. Then Shannon walks over to the tiny closet on the other side of the room and opens the door. “You can come out now, Dexter. He’s gone.” “Phew,” Dexter replies and wipes at his brow as he steps out into the open. “Thanks, ladies, I owe you one.” “And we will collect, Mister,” Shannon replies. “Count on it.” “Not a problem,” he says and walks quietly over to the main door to hazard a peek outside. “Umm, is it all right if I stick around for a minute or two until he‘s gone? I can go stand facing the corner. I won’t peek. Promise.” “We’re not staying,” Caro tells him. “We have to go to Elizia next for our adjustments now that we have these on.” She smoothes down her skirt and frowns. “I think I’m going to need a lot let out at the waist. Too much cheesecake catching up with me.” She twists around to frown at her skirt. “As a matter of fact, I may have to choose another dress altogether. My hips look too big in this one, I think.” She looks at Dexter. “What do you think?” “No comment,” Dexter replies. Caro blinks at him. “What, you think my hips are big too?” She pouts. Dexter shakes his head. “No, it’s not that at all. The problem is that your date for that dinner is just as big as Dunkirk is. I’d prefer not to have another large, angry man chasing me around with intent to cave my skull in because I made a remark about his lady’s figure, thank you.” “Oh,” Caro replies. She shrugs and picks up her pumps, padding toward the door in her bare feet. Shannon tilts her head at Dexter. “Dexter, what did you do to Dunkirk to make him chase you in the first place?” she asks. “Did you refuse to kiss him too?” She throws a grin in my direction. I make a face at her. So does Dexter. Shannon shrugs and gives him her one-second grin. “Sorry, I just felt it had to be said.” “Umm-hmm,“ Dexter replies, then he pauses, purses his lips, looks very chagrined. “Actually…I was trying to wake him up, and he wouldn’t, so I snatched his blanket off. He was going to pound me good, so I grabbed his Scotch as a hostage…” “Oooh,” we both reply in unison. “Bad move, Dexter,” Shannon wrinkles her nose and makes a tsking noise. “Naughty naughty,” I wave a finger at him. “I know, I know,” he sighs. “But I had to do something to prevent me from getting a beating, and there was nothing else handy to stop him with.” “Actually, you might be able to escape fairly easily,” Shannon says as she glances toward the crack in the door. “He seems to be in a much better mood now that Lynne‘s promised to accompany him to the dinner.” “I have a better idea,” Dexter replies with a grin. “Maybe if I follow right after you two go out into the fitting area, Lynne will keep him distracted long enough for me to slip by.” “And maybe I’ll just tell him where you are right now if you don’t stop teasing,” I reply. Dexter gulps and makes a zipping motion across his mouth with his hand. Shannon and I head for the door and Dexter follows a few paces behind us. I nudge Shannon with an elbow as we get close to the main fitting area.

“See what you people start? It was nice of him to ask so I’m just being nice in return and accepting his offer. It doesn’t mean that I have the hots for -” The subject in question is currently standing on the measuring platform. He has on a pair of tuxedo slacks, a ruffled shirt and is currently in the process of shrugging into a crisply-pressed jacket. The cut of it accents his broad shoulders very nicely. As he turns per Elizia’s instructions, his gaze falls on me. A smile spreads across his lips and he gives me a wink. Caro giggles from where she sits perched on the edge of a chair, waiting for an assistant to get her a different pair of shoes. I don’t even have to look Shannon’s way to know she’s smiling as well. What is the matter with these people? Sure he’s handsome, yes he’s got sparkling green eyes and that braid is cute and he did look well in those boxers, and… Damn it! I am not attracted to Dunkirk! He’s an unrepentant flirt and an ill-mannered, incorrigible rogue! Not the least bit charming. Not at all. So there.

I plunk down on a chair and fold my arms. Shannon chuckles as she walks by and I throw a look of disapproval her way. She just laughs all the harder and takes a seat to my left.

Well. Looks like my theory was correct about Lynne being a distraction whether it annoys her or not. Dunkirk hasn’t taken his eyes off her since she entered the room. Now is my chance to escape.

I take a wide path around Elizia and zip toward the exit. Dunkirk flicks a gaze my way just as I reach the door, but he doesn’t move. Either all is forgiven or he’s got too many pins in his clothes right now to chase after me. All that means is that he’ll get me later…

Maybe I could placate him with some more Scotch. How hard can it be to get it? Earth is a big planet, after all. Should be plenty of Scotch there. I could place an order and have a bottle sent from Earth. Better still, maybe there’s an import shop in Arus City. Almost has to be, since the princess is so into things from Earth. I’ll have to check it out later.

Tasia and Galen are coming down the hall at a leisurely pace. Tasia looks as if she‘s worried about something.

“Tasia? Something wrong?”

“I think she’s worried about that bottle she dropped,” Galen says.

Oh no, oh no, oh no…

I feel my throat seize up and I have to force my next words out. They come out as pitiful little squawks. “Dropped? You…dropped it?”

“We got all the glass picked up,” she replies. “So it’s okay. Dunkirk won’t get his feet all cut up when he goes back to his room.”

“Are you okay, Dexter?” Galen says. “You don’t have any color in your face.”

“I…I…have to go.” I hurry past them and down the hall.

“Dexter, where are you going?” Tasia calls after me. “You gotta get your tux!”

“Wow, I thought he was going to pass out for a minute,” Galen says as he watches Dexter dash around the corner. “He totally believed us.”

“He sure did, li’l bro.” I drape an arm around his shoulders. “And when we tell Dunny, he’ll get such a big laugh out of it that he’ll leave Dexter alone. See?”

“Are you sure? What if he believes us too and really tries to kill Dexter?”

“We’ll just have to be careful about how we explain it to him, that’s all. Now come on, we can get our outfits while we’re here and Dexter can worry about his later.”

“Okay.”

I wonder if it’s safe to come out of hiding yet. Dunkirk looks like he’s in a much better mood and he’s spending most of his time making small talk with Lynne. But that same assumption didn’t help Dexter any. Not really. Dunkirk still gave him a look like he was going to bust his head in the first opportunity that he got. I think I’ll just stay right here in this corner until everyone else is gone. Yeah. Good call, Alan. I settle back in my chair to wait for Dunkirk to leave.

Elizia sets to work on the various nips and tucks required for the ladies to get their dresses into presentable shape. I personally don’t see anything wrong with what they’re wearing, but this is one of those woman things. I learned that long ago from watching my sisters. Purses have to match shoes which should coordinate with belts, never pull a thread and always remember to blot the lipstick.

Shannon takes a stroll back and forth across the floor while the seamstress watches the hem of her gown to make sure it hangs right. Gee, Shannon really does have nice legs. She doesn’t seem to care much for that gown, but I certainly do. Lance does too, judging by that silly grin he gets on his face every time she turns her back to him. Eventually Elizia approves the hem and Shannon plunks down beside Caro to choose a different pair of high heels. When the assistant brings out a new pair in a box Lance plucks it out of her hands and walks over to fall to one knee at Shannon’s feet.

“With your permission, Milady?” he asks with an arched eyebrow. Shannon’s mouth twists into a bemused grin, but she nods. Lance withdraws the first shoe and slips it on her foot with great care, then the other. Lynne and Caro look greatly amused.

Shannon gets to her feet and walks around to test the new shoes. Lance remains seated on the floor to watch her test the new pair of shoes. Dunkirk gives Lynne a sideways glance and winks. Caro giggles some more. Then Tasia and Galen arrive and Tasia pauses to chat with the girls. I hear Lynne say something about a glass slipper, and Tasia laughs. Shannon looks around at Lance, and he just shrugs. More conversation ensues while Elizia darts back and forth from gown to gown and rattles off notes that are dutifully taken by her assistants. When her work is complete and the room is empty she looks my way and crooks a finger at me. “Your turn, Alan.”

“I’m surprised you remembered I was here,” I tell her.

“I pay attention to details. It’s my job.”

“Ah.” I walk over to stand on the small platform. As she begins to take my measurements, Coran enters the room. He beams at me as he approaches, then he takes Elizia aside and falls into a brief discussion with her to plan a private fitting session for Allura. Once he’s through talking with her he turns to me again.

“Good day to you, Alan. While you’re here, I was wondering if I might inquire about the little talk you had with Allura the other evening, if that would be all right with you.”

“What talk, Sir?”

“You know…when you were in the kitchen, in the recreation room…holding hands, as I recall.”

“Oh…oh yes, that...well, she just asked me if I was willing to accept the offer she made and see it through.”

His demeanor brightens considerably. “Really, now. And are you?”

“Yes. I wasn’t going to at first, because my initial attempt didn’t go over very well. Hunk and Dunkirk ruined it for me, and in front of everyone, no less. But the princess encouraged me to try again, and for her sake, I will.”

Coran suddenly gets an ear to ear smile. He looks happier than I’ve ever seen him before. “Very good, very good...and when, do tell, are you going to make this second attempt?”

“After the poetry contest. I’ll see if I can repeat what I did before. But I’m not sure if I can.”

He nods. “Ah...well, I can certainly understand your being nervous, under the circumstances.”

“Yeah…I guess I made a fool of myself with the outburst I had. It was pretty embarrassing. The princess took it all in stride, though.”

“She’s a very tolerant and forgiving young woman. I’m sure you’ve seen that in her from time to time.”

“Yes, I have. That’s just one of the many things that makes her such a special person.”

“Indeed. I’m glad to see you feel that way about her. And I do understand your apprehension, since the gesture will be made in the presence of your associates. I’m certain you’ll want to make sure the process is carried out with a certain special dignity. But you mustn’t worry yourself too much. Remember your status, first and foremost. You are fully entitled to this opportunity, and I myself am personally looking forward to it with a great deal of anticipation. As a matter of fact, I’ll see to getting the rest of the process started right away, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, there really isn’t that much to it, you know. Once everything’s in the oven it’s only a matter of time.”

Coran chuckles and a bit of color rushes to his face. “Oh, my. Eager to begin, are we?”

“I guess you could say that. The princess really liked the little bit I gave her before, but next time I want to be sure she gets a full portion of what I have to offer.”

“I’m sure she will, all in due time.” He nods to himself and smiles. “All in due time. Please, allow me to offer my congratulations in advance.”

“All right, if you insist.”

“Oh, I do. I do.” He grips my hand in both of his to shake firmly. “Remember that phrase when the time comes, yes?” He gives me a wink, chuckles as if at a private joke, releases my hand, claps me on the back and leaves with a bit of lightness to his step.

Now there goes a man who’s really into cookies.

Once my fitting is done I step down from the platform to look in the mirror. I don’t know if white’s really my color…

“Nanny, Nanny! I have the most wonderful news!” Coran is all out of breath as he rushes into the kitchen. “Wonderful! You won’t believe it!”

“And what news would that be?”

“Our little Allura is going to get married.”

“Humph. You really need to stop making such jokes. I don’t find it the least bit funny, especially after how hard we’ve both tried to do just that.”

“Oh no, Nanny. This time I’m quite serious. Are you familiar with the young man that serves as Blue Lion’s pilot on the secondary team? His name is Alan. Alan Zruppek.”

“Zruppek? That’s a noble house…”

“Yes. And he’s planning to propose to Allura after the poetry contest.”

“Are you serious?” The dish I’m drying nearly falls from my hands.

“Very much so. Apparently he tried to propose to her before, but some of the others disrupted it somehow.”

“Isn’t it just like them, the ruffians! They’re such a bad element! I don’t know why Allura insists on associating with them!” I set the dish aside. “But you know, I have seen those two in each other’s company a great deal, now that I think of it…”

Coran smiles. “I’ve caught them at holding hands twice myself. The first time I believe he was going to kiss her hand as well, but I must have startled him.”

“Well, now, isn’t that sweet…but how did his first try to propose get disrupted?”

He rubs at his moustache. “I’m not certain, but he did mention that Hunk and Dunkirk were involved somehow.”

“Those hooligans! I ought to go take my rolling pin to the both of them right this very minute!” I start to walk around the counter, but Coran holds up a palm.

“Don’t trouble yourself, Nanny. As I said, he fully intends to try again at the dinner after the poetry contest, and he’s determined not to let his second attempt be interrupted. Can you believe it, our little Allura married at last!”

“Oh yes, this is wonderful!” I rub my hands together. “I’ll make sure the dinner is arranged perfectly for the moment. Candles will add a touch of romance, I’ll pick the best wine…”

Coran nods happily. “I know you’ll make it superb, Nanny. I must be going now. I have to call Alan’s father so we can make arrangements for the exchange.”

“All right, Coran. And be sure to keep me updated.”

“Yes, of course. Good day, Nanny.”

I smile after him as he leaves. At long last that stubborn girl has gotten sensible and allowed herself to be courted by someone decent. What a wonderful day!

I turn my attention to preparing lunch. A movement at the corner of my eye catches my attention and I turn to look. Speaking of the happy bride-to-be, there she is! She’s snooping around the mixing bowls at the far side of the room, searching for a fingerful of cake batter just like she always did when she was little.

“Hello, Allura,” I say to her with a smile. “How are we today, dear?”

“I’m fine, Nanny,” she replies and looks askance at me. “What are you so happy about?”

“As if you didn’t know,” I reply. “I’ve heard all about your involvement with a certain Lion pilot recently.”

She sticks a batter-coated finger in her mouth and tries to appear nonchalant about my remark, but the surprise is clear in her eyes. “You have? From who?”

“From Coran. And you have his full approval, as well as mine.”

“I do?” She blinks at me in disbelief. “You really don’t care if I express my feelings for him openly?”

“Of course not. How can I when he’s planning to propose to you?”

“Propose…?”

“Well yes, you silly girl. I heard that he’s planning to do it at the dinner right after your poetry contest.” I study the stunned expression on her face. Apparently Alan didn’t tell her about his plans for a second try. Oh, dear, I may have ruined everything.

“Oh…I thought you already knew, child. I’m sorry. Just don’t tell him I told you. Be sure to act surprised, all right?”

“Sure…okay.” She still looks dazed, the poor thing. How excited she must be! I give her a happy smile and resume my cooking. The next time I turn to look her way, she’s gone.

“So who are you going to take to the princess’s dinner, Keith?” I give him a very slight smile. “As if I didn’t know already.”

“I’m not taking anyone, Lance,” he replies. “I wasn’t intending to, anyway.”

“Get out of here! You’re not even going to ask Allura if you can be her escort?”

“No. Less complications that way.” He turns his attention to the clipboard resting on his desk. I give a snort of disgust and snatch it away. He glares up at me. “What the -?”

“You know what your problem is, Keith? You spend way too much time worrying about complications. Do you remember what happened with the Love Bridge?”

“Sure I do. Hunk won the choice, Lotor came along and ruined everything -”

“You’re missing one little detail. Allura looked at you and asked if you wanted to get involved. You chickened out and said you’d stay at the castle to keep watch.”

“So?”

“So, let’s assume that you said yes. If you’d picked the right card, that means that you would have had to meet Allura on the bridge and kiss her. No one said boo when Hunk won, so they would’ve had no reason to say anything if you’d won either.”

He interlaces his fingers and frowns slightly at me. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that if you were considered worthy to go kiss her in front of thousands of people, then what’s the problem with being her escort to the dinner?”

“But I didn’t win. I didn’t even participate in the choice.”

“That’s not what I - man, I swear I’m going down to the shop room and get a nice, big baseball bat made with ‘Clueless Keith Adjuster’ carved into it.” I glance down at the clipboard in my hands. Even this might be solid enough…

“Lance, why do you always have to make such an issue out of these sort of things? This is simply a social event being held for the princess’s entertainment, and -”

“And you’re forgetting the reason she wanted to hold the contest in the first place, aren’t you?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten. It’s just that…” he trails off, frowns down at his hands. “I’m not considered good company for her, you know.”

I wrinkle my nose at his reply. “Phooey. None of us are considered ‘good company’ for her as far as Coran and Nanny are concerned. But maybe they’d back off a little if you’d act like you had some balls for once.”

Keith’s head snaps up and he pins me with a angry glare, then he springs up to round the end of the desk. I stand my ground. I’m bracing for him to take a swing, but he simply pauses, stares me down for a couple of seconds. Then he walks up to me and plucks the clipboard out of my hands. “This discussion is over, Lance.”

“Whatever. I guess you’re right about not asking to be her date at the dinner after all. You’d look kind of silly in matching dresses.”

I have never been so close to being decked in the chops as I am right this minute. Keith grips the clipboard so tightly that his knuckles go white, then he swallows tightly to compose himself and nods toward the door. “You’re dismissed, Lance.”

“Which one of you would have worn the tiara, I wonder?”

He doesn’t take the bait this time; his shields are firmly in place now. I stick my hands in my pockets and stroll out of the room. I catch sight of Allura playing Peeping Tom around the corner to my right. I pause to study her and she steps out shyly, like she’s guilty about being caught. Even so, the smile on her lips returns quickly.

“Hi, Lance,” she says in a tone so sweet I could glaze a donut with it. “How are you? Is Keith in there?” She points at the office door.

“Yep. And he’s as clueless as ever.” I shake my head. “I’m just about to give up on him.”

“Oh, you can’t just yet,” Her smile hasn’t faded one bit, and neither has the syrupy tone of voice. “He’ll need you to be the best man, after all.”

“Best man…?”

“Yes.”

“Best man as in wedding best man? Keith’s getting married? When did all this happen?”

“Oh, stop acting like you don’t know. He’d tell you before he told anyone else.”

“Tell me what?”

“About the proposal, silly. To me! At the dinner. Nanny let it slip by accident.” She flashes the kind of megawatt smile that I thought only Dexter was capable of. “She and Coran both approve. Can you believe it? I’m so happy!” She rushes at me and flings her arms around my neck to give me a hug, then pulls back. “But don’t worry, I promise I’ll act surprised.” She gives a happy little giggle and zips around me to skip down the hall. I watch after her until she disappears around a corner, then I scratch my head.

Keith is proposing to Allura? And here he just acted like such a putz in the office… Hmm. He must want to keep it a secret for some reason. But Allura is right. I’m his best buddy. He shouldn’t want to keep it from me, of all people. He has to spill the beans eventually. I might have pissed him off too much for him to tell me right now. Guess I’ll have to wait till later. I shrug to myself and depart my own way.

“Yes, Ma’am. I’m looking for a bottle of Scotch…umm, well, I don’t know if it’s a single malt or blended, I just know that it’s sixteen years old…oh, I see, single malts tend to have the ages to them - ahh, no, I don’t know what - there’s more than one single malt? Did I see the label? Yes, but I didn’t really get a good look at the writing on it…umm, it was kind of funny-looking, it was two labels, actually - there’s this white band near the bottom of the bottle, then there’s this single white oval-shaped one above it - Lagavulin, you say? Okay, that’s what I need then, a bottle of Lagavulin sixteen-year-old single malt Scotch whiskey. Do you have that? Great! And how much is it…? Ahh…okay…yeah, interplanetary import fees and taxes and all, I understand…well, can I get back to you on this? Okay…all right, thanks.”

I hang up the phone with a sigh. I think I’ve learned more about Scotch in the past ten minutes than I’ve known all my life. The biggest thing I’ve learned so far is that Scotch that comes from Earth is very, very expensive. No wonder Dunkirk makes such a fuss over it.

Made, Dexter, made. Dunkirk used to make a fuss over it, but he can’t now because your girlfriend dropped it and now it’s history. And if you don’t replace it then you are going to become just like it - history. I can see the news headline now: Reserve Voltron Force Captain Fatally Maimed by Angry Scotsman - Film at Eleven.

But where in the world am I going to get that kind of money? I can see putting out three, maybe even the lower half of four digits for it. That I can handle. But fifteen thousand credits for a single bottle of liquor is way, way out of my league. Maybe if I beg dad really, really hard for back pay on my allowance…

Hold it. Wait one minute. Alan could buy that same bottle of Scotch with pocket change. All I have to figure out now is how to talk him into doing it. He’s loyal to his Captain, isn’t he? Have I pulled any mean stunts on him in the last week? I don’t think so. This should be easy enough. Wonder if he got fitted for his tux yet. I’ll just have to go and find out.

“There, you see, Dunny? Your baby is just fine.” I fold my arms and watch as Dunkirk carefully looks the bottle over. “What - you checking for fingerprints or something?”

“No, lass, I’m just showin’ some lovin’ care, that’s all.” He sets the bottle down close to the mirror on his dresser, as far from the edge of the counter top as possible. I shake my head and laugh. “Dunny, you are hilarious sometimes. You know that?”

He turns to study me for a moment. “Tasia, d’ye have any idea what that bottle there is worth? Give me a guess at it, an’ I’ll tell ye if yer right or nae.”

“Two hundred credits,” I say with confidence. Dunkirk grins and shakes his head.

“On Earth, aye, but this is Arus we’re on. Th’ value goes up a bit here. Try again, ‘cause ye’re nowhere close.”

“Five hundred.”

He chuckles and shakes his head again. “I’m afraid nae.”

“A thousand - wait…three thousand.”

“No an’ no.”

A few rounds of my guessing and his continual head-shaking later, he finally graces me with the actual value. My jaw drops. “Dunny, get the heck outta here!”

“I kid ye not, lass. That’s th’ latest figure, accordin’ t’ th’ last time I looked into it. An’ ye donna want t’ know what seven hundred an’ fifty milliliters o’ thirty year old Laphroaig goes for. Ye’d wet yer knickers.”

I study the partially-empty bottle. “All that money, and it looks like you’ve drunk about five thousand credits worth of it already.”

“Aye. There’s no point in havin’ a good Scotch an’ nae drinkin’ it.”

“You gonna toast me and Dexter with some when we get married?”

“Tasia…” He rubs at his chin and looks thoughtful for a minute. “Th’ day ye actually give in an’ say ‘I do’ to th’ Captain, I’ll upend th’ bloody bottle an’ suck it all down in one draught, because after that there’ll be no point in me remainin’ sober any more.”

I make a face at him. “I’m gonna hit you.”

He grins at me. “Think ye can make it hurt this time?”

I smack his arm hard and stomp out of the room. It takes a little longer for a nerve center hit to register with Dunny, but by the time I get halfway down the hall I hear him yelp and cuss from the doorway. I lick a fingertip and draw a mark in the air, then I go looking for Dexter.

All right. Paperwork’s all done, morning logs have been checked. Nola’s doing just fine at the helm for Team Three. So now what?

I pause and drum my fingers on the desk. Once upon a time - and that time being not very long ago, either - Captain Keith had his hands full continually with all the things necessary to keep the Voltron Force running at peak performance. Now I have absolutely nothing to do and a full day to do it in. Maybe I ought to hunt Lance down and have a talk with him. He’s really getting out of line with those comments he’s been making about me and Allura lately. He needs to be straightened out, once and for all.

I get up from the desk and head for the door. Allura is right there in the doorway when it slides open and we both yelp. She rests a hand over her heart.

“Keith…oh. I’m sorry, I was just about to buzz the door. You startled me!”

“Likewise,” I tell her. “I wasn’t expecting you either. Do you need something?”

“I just want to talk,” she replies, “about this whole replacing me on the team business.” She reaches out and snags me by the hand, then she heads into the office, pausing in the middle of the room, but she still hangs onto my hand. I tilt my head at her, and she arches an elegant brow in return. “What?”

“What? We’re holding hands, that’s what.”

She glances down, gets an expression as if she’s just noticed, then she beams at me. “Why, yes we are, aren’t we? Isn’t that something?”

“Princess, why are we holding hands?”

“Well, why shouldn’t we? I’m allowed.”

“You are? Since when?”

“Since now.” She moves closer to me. “As a matter of fact, I’m allowed to do a lot of things I wasn’t allowed to before.” She lets go of my hand, rests both palms on my chest and slides them along my torso. I suck in a breath and catch her hands in mine.

“Princess…will you kindly explain what’s going on?”

“What’s going on…” She muses. “What’s going on is that I have permission to express my feelings toward you now.” She pulls her hands out of my grasp, steps forward and wraps her arms around my waist instead. “So I am.”

“Permission? What permission? When permission? Why permission? There‘s no way that Nanny or Coran would approve of this normally. What’s the deal here?”

“The deal? The deal is -” She abruptly lets go of me and backs away, her eyes wide. “Oh, I - I’m sorry. I, umm…I don’t know anything, not a thing! Honest! We‘ll talk later!” She rushes out of the room then, leaving me in a very profound state of confusion.

I think I’ll go look for Lance now.

I shake my head to myself and step out into the hall. Speak of the devil, he’s walking along the hallway with a baseball bat resting on his shoulder. He grins at me as he gets close.

“Heya, Cap’n. Check this out! Just got it finished a little while ago.” He holds it up so I can see the writing near the business end of it.

“Clueless Keith Adjuster,” I read aloud. “Cute.”

“Ain’t it though?” He swings it in the air a couple of times.

“Is there a matching ‘Lance’ model available?”

“Nope, ‘fraid not,” he replies with a smug grin. “Mind if I test it out?”

“That all depends. Do you have a Death and Dismemberment clause in your health insurance policy?”

“Ha ha,” he replies, and suddenly swings the bat. I’m just a hair slow in ducking out of the way. It glances off my head with a barely audible ‘piff’ sound. I blink at Lance.

“It’s dense-pack foam!”

“Yeah, but so’s your head, so I figured it would be appropriate.” He waves it in my general direction. “I got Murray the tech to make it from some leftover material while he was refilling his portable insulation injector. The paint job is great. Looks just like the real thing, doesn‘t it?”

“Yes, it certainly does,” I reply, eyeing him warily. I just know he’s going to swing it at me again. But this time, he might not like the end result…

Sure enough, he takes aim again, this time to swat me across the shoulder blades. I spin toward him, hook my arm around the bat just as it makes contact with my ribs and finish my turn, yanking it free from his grasp, in the process. He only gets a split second to study his suddenly empty hands as I adjust my hold on the bat and raise it high over my head. He gives a strangled sort of squawk, turns and dashes down the hall. I’m right behind him.

He leads me a merry chase into the stairwell, down three flights of stairs, across the vehicle bay and up to his car. He’s not fast enough to get the door open when I catch up and start to pummel him with the bat. He breaks into laughter and slides down along the car to sit on the concrete. I smack him a few more times. Then a pair of hands latch onto the bat and the back of my collar, respectively. Hunk tugs me back from Lance and locks me into a bear hug. Pidge approaches with caution, his eyes wide, his hands raised with palms out toward me.

“Hey, leggo…!” I struggle within Hunk’s hold, but he’s got me pinned good.

“It’s okay, Keith,” Pidge says in a soothing tone as he takes another timid little step toward me. “You don’t have to be angry anymore. People get stress, they freak out from time to time. Just breathe, count to ten…”

“What? What are you talking about?” Then it hits me. I’ve just been chasing Lance through the halls of the castle, brandishing what looks to be a genuine hardwood baseball bat. Nola must have caught it during her random security sweep, and…

True to form, Doc Leslie comes racing across the bay with two EMTs right behind her, them pushing a gurney. I look down at Lance. He’s playing possum, lying perfectly still on the ground by his car, the bastard. He maintains his false unconscious state even as the EMTs lift him onto the gurney. I’m going to kill him for real if he doesn’t knock it off.

Pidge continues with his attempt to try and calm me down. Lance finally reaches his breaking point and starts laughing again. Everyone startles, then they turn to look at him. He’s laughing so hard that tears are streaming down his cheeks.

“Gah…!” He points at me, makes a vague waving motion in the direction of the rest, and falls back onto the gurney. Pidge gives me a funny look. Hunk lets go.

The best part is when I give everyone a full explanation as to what actually happened. Looks of irritation are exchanged all around. Then Hunk holds Lance down while Doc Leslie straps him firmly to the gurney and everyone watches as I find out how many bruises I can raise with a soft baseball bat. It isn’t many, but the fun is in the trying.

“You want what?” I shrug on the new jacket Elizia hands to me. It’s charcoal gray with black accents. Nice.

Dexter shifts his weight to lean against the doorframe. “Not want, Alan, need. I need a bottle of Scotch.”

“What, you’ve decided to take up some of Dunny’s bad habits?”

“No, but this does concern Dunkirk, as a matter of fact. Remember that bottle of Scotch that Dunkirk has? The one his dad sent him from Earth?”

“The one that will earn a person the loss of several vital internal organs if they touch it without permission? The one that you dared to touch in order to secure our escape earlier this morning?”

“Yep, that’s the one, all right.” He heaves a deep sigh. “And it gets better from there. You had already gone, but I was still using it as a shield to clear space between Dunny and me so I could make a break for it. When I thought I had a good head start, I handed it off to Tasia and ran. But apparently she didn’t get a good hold of it when I gave it to her.” He makes a face. “She…dropped it.”

I snap my head around to look at him. “She dropped it?”

He nods gravely. “Yes, she did. But Dunny knows where the responsibility really lies and he doesn’t hit women anyhow, so she’s okay. I’m the one who’s going to hang for it.”

“Oh, wow. Nice knowing you, Dex. You were a good man.”

“Hey, not to be burying your Captain before the fact.”

“It’ll be fact soon enough. Dunny’s probably back at his room right now trying to decide which one of your limbs he’s going to tear off and beat you over the head with.”

“The scenario doesn’t have to end that way. You could help me out with this, Alan, old buddy of mine.”

“Me? How?”

“I need a bottle of Lagavulin sixteen-year-old single malt Scotch whiskey.”

“And how do I figure into this?”

“Because to get that bottle of Scotch I need a lot of money. More than what I could ever manage to scrape together in a couple of days...” He looks at me, huffs out a sigh. “Know what I mean?”

I pause in my preening to study him for a moment. I know exactly how pricey some of those imported Earth liquors can get, and Dexter is in straights most dire at the moment. With but one bottle of Scotch, I could own his mortal soul. Sweet…

I turn back to the mirror and fuss with my tie. “What’s it worth to you, my good Captain?”

There is a long pause, and another heavy sigh. “Name it.”

Oh, it doesn’t get any better than this…

I turn to look at him. “I get to escort Shannon to the dinner.”

He springs straight up from the wall he’s leaning against. “What?”

I meet his gave evenly. “You heard me.”

“She’s probably going to be Lance’s date, Alan. How am I going to convince her to go with you instead?”

I shrug at him. “I don’t know. But it’s either that or I take Tasia by default because you’ll be in Intensive Care.”

He hisses a very rude cuss word under his breath. “All right, it’s a deal.”

“Very good, Captain. Now, is there a bottle of that Scotch available, or will I have to place an order?”

“No, there’s already one at the Import shop. I called to check.”

“All right…I’ll put it on reserve. When I have confirmation of my date, the Scotch shall be yours.”

“Most generous, oh Mephistopheles. A pleasure doing business with you.” He turns and starts for the door.

“Say, Dexter…?”

“Yes, Mephisto?”

“Your turn for your tux. And that’s Mister Mephisto to you.” I step down from the low platform and gesture toward it with a sweep of my arm and a bow. Dexter pouts at me as he walks over to stand on it. Elizia smirks to herself as I go to change clothes, and I replace my suit of choice on the hanger before I hand it over to one of the assistants and head back to the main area.

Dexter looks like a sullen scarecrow where he stands on the platform, his arms straight out to the sides and a frown on his face as Elizia stretches a measuring tape along his one arm. I give him a casual salute as I head for the exit. Partway along my stroll through the hall my cell phone rings. I unclip it from my belt. “Hello…?”

“Alan? This is Darrin.”

“Oh, Darrin! Hello, brother mine…you sound rather chipper today. What’s up, another corporate merger?”

“No. But I’ve heard about the merger that you’re planning, and you have my congratulations in advance.”

“Beg pardon…?”

“Don’t play the innocent with me. I understand that there’s a dinner being planned where you’ll be in the company of a most beautiful young lady…one with long, golden hair, and sparkling blue eyes...”

I am wondering where my eldest brother got the information about my would-be date so quickly when it dawns on me that I have quietly mentioned my admiration of Shannon to him before. He must have heard about the banquet, and he’s very good at putting two and two together. That’s why he’s CEO of the Zruppek conglomerate, after all.

“Well, the final details haven’t been arranged as of yet, but I have some rather strong leverage working in my favor. If I’m truly lucky, I might even persuade her to spend a quiet evening with me on the yacht after the dinner.”

“Outstanding! Now listen, dad asked me to pick you out a ring for the occasion. The main stone is only two carats, but it’s the best that I can do on such short notice. Blue diamond, princess cut, surrounded by a smaller ring of matched whites. Gold and platinum setting -”

“Ring? What’s the ring for?”

“Why, for the engagement, of course! You certainly can’t go on with your plans without it. Now, I’ll be arriving on the morrow - sometime late afternoon-ish once I’m free from my last meeting for the day. I’ll give you the ring then, and dad will be arriving the next day to speak with Coran about the final arrangements. Then you’ll be free to proceed full steam ahead.”

“Coran? Arrangements? But Shannon and I are just passing friends as of yet. I really don’t know if she’d be willing to jump right into an engagement with someone she doesn‘t know that well.”

There is a long pause. “Shannon…? Who is Shannon?”

“She’s the girl I’m planning to take to the dinner. Long, blonde hair, blue eyes…you know.”

“Wait a minute…then what about this engagement to Princess Allura I’ve heard all about, then?”

“Engagement? To the princess? Who’s getting engaged to Princess Allura?”

“Well, you are. That’s what dad said. That’s why I’m getting the ring ready for you.”

“Umm…”

“Look, if you’re planning on keeping this Shannon girl on the side, that’s neither here nor there. But it’s in very, very poor taste to make a public showing with her on the very day you’re going to propose to the princess. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all. You’d best re-think your plans, little brother. See you on the morrow.”

The line goes dead. I stare at the phone for a long time before I re-clip it to my belt. Me, proposing to Allura? And father told him so - where in the world would he get that idea? He said dad was coming to make arrangements with Coran…

Uh-oh…

Something tells me that I need to investigate this right away. I resume my walk down the hall at a much faster pace.

“Okay, Keith, time to fess up.” Lance leans against a weight machine near the punching bag I’m working on and stuffs his hands in his pockets. I give him a sideways glance before resuming my stress relief.

“Fess up to what?”

“The engagement. How come you didn’t let me in on it? We’re supposed to be buddies, right?”

“Engagement?” I stop throwing punches at the bag and hold out a hand to still it. “What engagement?”

“To Allura, you goofball. Why didn’t you tell me? I had to hear it from her firsthand. Well, I couldn’t help but hear it from her, she couldn’t keep a secret like that to save her life.” He smirks a little. “Congratulations, though, and let me be the first to say that it’s about friggin’ time.”

“Lance...I’m not falling for your joke this time. Allura and I are not engaged.”

“Well no, not yet. You haven’t given her the ring, so it won’t be official till then.”

“Lance, read my lips. There...is...no...ring. No ring, no engagement.”

He arches a skeptical brow. “Really now. So Allura was all excited and babbling and hugging me for what, then?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea. But I had nothing to do with it, I assure you.”

Lance studies me quietly for a long time without speaking, then he frowns. “You’re not trying to kid me. You’re dead serious.”

“Yes.”

“Then how come...?” His expression turns distant, as if he’s pondering something important. “Look, if you really aren’t getting engaged to Allura, then you better go talk to her because she’s convinced that you are.”

“And where, pray tell, did she get that idea?” I stare him down until he realizes what I’m aiming at.

“What - you think I…?”

“Why not? After the deal with the baseball bat, I wouldn’t be surprised at anything else you’d come up with.”

“Keith…” he replies after another long, thoughtful pause. “Let me tell you something here and now. If I were ever involved in any sort of diabolical plan to get you and the princess hitched, you’d know it was me because you’d wake up with a hangover and her panties between your teeth.”

“Erm…” I blink at him and he breaks into an incredibly cheesy grin that lasts for about a second. “Okay. If you aren’t the one spreading the rumor, than I’ll just have to find the one who is. I bet it’s one of the castle maids or something.” I turn and head for the locker room.

“And if you happen to change your mind and propose to her after all, I better be the first to know,” he calls after me.

“Sure, Lance. Right.” I call over my shoulder as I go. Once inside the locker room, I take a moment to do some pondering of my own. So Allura thinks we’re going to be engaged. That would certainly explain her behavior in my office earlier. Thank goodness I didn’t blurt that little piece of information to Lance.

Yes, this definitely needs to be straightened out. I sigh and head to the shower.

“Ah, Alan!” Coran smiles at me as I step into his office. “How very good to see you, my boy. What brings you here? Will we be discussing details about the wedding? You do realize that Nanny will want to oversee everything. Perhaps I should send for her to join our little conference?” He reaches for his phone. I wave my hands at him.

“No - no, that won’t be necessary. I want this to be between us for now. Please.”

“Oh, all right...” He folds his hands and studies me. “What is it, then?”

“Umm...well, I was wondering. Where did you get the idea that Princess Allura and I were going to be married?”

“Well, I do hope I’m not being too inappropriate about my observations, but I’ve noticed all the little moments the two of you have had together recently. And I understand that she even joined you for a meal in the cafeteria instead of dining in her private hall. She’s never done anything quite like that before.” He rubs at his moustache as he takes in the look of surprise that creeps into my features. “Yes, I’ve been kept well-informed about your being in Allura’s company for some time now. I had been quietly hoping this situation would arise, and when I saw the two of you holding hands in the recreation room, I knew that my prayers had been answered at last.”

“Umm...” “You’ll forgive me for being a little intrusive, won’t you? This matter is very important to me, and I had to know for certain whether my suspicions were correct or not.”

“But -”

He holds a hand up to stop me before I can say anything more. “I assure you that I will pry no further into your courtship. I wouldn’t want you to feel any anxiety now, not with the process so close to being complete. It could sour things for the honeymoon, after all, and Nanny is hoping that we’ll have a new little prince or princess coming along as soon as possible...” He gives me a knowing look.

“Ahh...”

“Thank you for being so understanding. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

I give my head a firm shake. “Uhh, no. I’ll be going now.”

“All right, but do feel free to come back and converse with me again whenever you feel a need to.”

“Yes, of course.”

Coran falls back into that outrageously happy grin of his. I leave the office posthaste.

Okay, Dexter, think. Think hard. How in the world are you going to talk Lance’s date into going with Alan to the princess’s little dinner?

I know I’ve pulled some outrageous stunts in the past, but this is going to be a real toughie. I don’t know Shannon well enough to figure out how to approach her. Maybe I’ll just have to tell her the truth and try to look as pitiful as I can when I do so. I’m trying to avoid death by angry Scotsman, though, so would I really be faking the pitiful part?

I find the subject of my quest in Maintenance, looking over Pidge’s shoulder as he pulls the cover off of a computer case. I know I dare not ask her around him, because he’s got a serious crush on her. I dare not invoke his wrath. Lance would only pound my face in once he found out I was the one behind the arrangement. Pidge, however, has an intimate knowledge of castle technology that could put me in a situation much like the one Keith suffered through not so long ago. Or worse.

“Hi, Dexter.” Shannon startles me out of my musing with a pleasant smile. “Something I can help you with?”

Pidge glances my way with a scrutinizing gaze. I bet he’s calculating how much of me would be left if I were strapped to a Lion Power Crystal and the juice turned up to full. That’s what I get out of his expression, anyway. Scary, scary brain-child. I hope that you and Shannon never get together because if you do you’ll have this mega-genius baby with a huge head that will master particle physics before he gets out of his diapers and use that knowledge to take over the universe…

“Dexter…” Shannon says. “Can I help you?”

I shake my head a little and look around at Shannon. She’s studying me with a blend of patience and curiosity.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I need to talk to you about something.” I point to the other side of the room. “Can we go over there?”

She shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

Pidge looks my way again with that same slight frown on his face. I try to act as unassuming as possible and he returns his attention to the system unit he’s taking apart. I cross the room and suddenly feel a profound sense of relief at having so much distance between us.

“So what‘s up?” Shannon asks once we’re safely out of earshot. “I’m guessing that whatever you have to ask isn’t meant for certain people to hear. Am I right?”

“Yes, you’re right. I don’t suppose you have a date for the dinner after the princess’s poetry contest yet, do you?”

“No, but I’m expecting an offer soon. Why, did Tasia turn you down?” She smirks in that funny little way that makes you want to laugh along, even when you’re the recipient of her joke. I grin back at her.

“Ha, cute. But seriously, I was wondering if you’d consider letting Alan accompany you to the dinner.”

“Alan…?” She arches an eyebrow. “Why Alan?”

“Because he’s expressed an interest in the possibility.”

“So why isn’t he asking me, then?”

“He figures my position as Captain will help to tilt the odds in his favor.”

She pauses to study me for a moment. “And what’s in it for you?”

“I avoid a trip to the Trauma ward.”

“What?”

“Ahh, details, details. I’d rather not say.”

She folds her arms. “I think you’d better if you expect me to pass up a date with Lance.”

“All right, you win.” I sigh heavily and begin to explain the Great Scotch Disaster to her. Three-quarters of the way along I realize I’m in trouble because she gets the same gleam to her eyes that Alan had earlier. And that’s how I got into this mess in the first place. I take note of the slow smile crossing her lips. Things are about to get even messier.

“Lance has been hinting at asking me for a couple of days now, you know…” She lets the sentence trail off meaningfully.

“And?”

“And I imagine he’ll be really disappointed if I turn him down. Not to mention my own disappointment as well…”

“Okay, I get it. What do you want?”

“A weekend at the spa would be nice.”

“And…?”

“A bottle of Silver Wind Night Musk perfume would be wonderful.” She gives me the sort of look that indicates that she wants at least one more ‘and’ from me.

“And…?”

“Make it clear to Alan that just because I’ll be there with him doesn’t mean I’m going to ignore Lance completely. If Lance wants to talk to me while I’m there, we’ll talk.”

“And…?”

“And I think that since Lance is going to denied this date, another should be arranged at your discretion. Doesn’t matter how you set it up. Be creative.”

“And…?”

She pauses in thought. “No more ands for now. Tell Alan the date is his. For now, you’re off the hook. Unless there’s anything else you need…?” She gives me a sly look out of the corner of her eyes. I can see where Lance gets his fascination with her.

“That’s quite all right, Miss-phistopheles. I’m fine.”

She simply smiles and walks back over to where Pidge sits at the worktable. I wish I’d known that so many of my teammates and associates were actually Infernal Minions in disguise. I would have thought twice before signing on. But at least now the problem is taken care of and the bottle of Scotch is as good as mine. Mission accomplished. I leave Maintenance and step into the hall with a sense of triumph.

“Alan…!” Allura is all aglow as she comes down the hallway toward me. “Guess what - I think the poetry contest idea has worked out even better than I thought. Keith is going to propose to me at the dinner afterward! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Keith is going to…? Who told you that?”

“Nanny let it slip. I have to admit that I was a little surprised at first, because I never thought she’d approve a thing like this. But now…oh, I’m so happy!” She flings her arms around my neck and hugs me tightly. “This is the most wonderful day of my life!”

A movement at the corner of my eye catches my attention. I glance over my shoulder to see Coran smiling our way. He gives a slight nod and vanishes around a corner. I reach up to unlock Allura’s arms from around me quickly.

“Princess…we have got to talk. It’s really, really important.”

“Oh, all right. Go ahead.”

“Not here. We have to find someplace more private. Come on.” I start toward the meeting hall, casting glances all around me as I go. Allura follows, her expression flickering between happiness and confusion. When I reach the room and we’re both inside, I shut and lock it. Allura looks completely baffled.

“Alan…whatever is the matter?”

I huff out an exasperated sigh. “Princess, we’re in trouble.”

“Trouble? How?”

“You’re getting engaged, all right, but it’s not to the person you think.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Remember the time you chewed a hangnail, I took your hand to look at it, and Coran saw us in the hallway?”

“Yes…”

“Remember the time we were holding hands in the recreation room because I was upset about Hunk and Dunkirk eating all my cookies? Coran saw us then, too. And he knows about us sitting together in the cafeteria, and the way we‘ve been keeping company for the past few days…”

“So? What’s all of that have to do with -” Her expression turns to shock as the realization hits her. “Oh…oh, no!” Color drains from her face. “Nanny said ‘a pilot’, but she never mentioned Keith’s name, and I assumed…oh…!” She gives me a panicked look. “Has he spoken with your father yet?”

“Yes. My brother called to tell me about the engagement ring that was picked out.”

Allura clenches both her fists. “Damn it all! I should have known he’d try something like this! Five more months and his authority as my Royal Guardian comes to an end. Then he’ll just be an advisor and he won’t have the power to arrange marriages for me anymore.” She throws a helpless look my way. “Until then, though, what he’s done is perfectly legal under Arusian law. What do we do now?”

“We go talk to Dexter. He’ll figure out a way to deal with this.”

“Dexter? How will Dexter help?”

“If he can get Sven to stroll naked through the garden at Castle Pollux and below the terrace to Princess Romelle’s room at high noon, he can find a way to get us out of this. Come on, let’s go track him down.” I head for the door.

“Sven was - how did Dexter manage that?” She asks as she comes up behind me.

“He said it involved an awful lot of booze and a really outrageous bet. Ask him about it sometime.”

“I will, definitely.”

I open the door and rush out into the corridor with Allura close behind.

*****************

“That’s the last one, Shannon.” Pidge huffs out a sigh, shuts the system down and pushes away from the worktable. I feel bad making him fix computers when he knows he can’t play with them, but he’s already repaired everything else I’ve given him. “Can we go to lunch now?”

“Okay, let’s go.” I ruff his hair and he smiles as he gets out of his chair. Then his expression gets serious. “You’re going to the dinner with Lance, aren’t you?”

“Actually, no. Alan’s my date for that evening.”

“Alan?” Pidge wrinkles his nose. “Why Alan?” Then he smiles. “Never mind, you don’t have to tell me. I’ll be happy just to see the look on Lance’s face when he finds out.”

“That’s not nice, Pidge…”

He continues to smile. “Nope, not at all. But it‘s still funny.”

I shake my head at him and we start for the lunch area. And speak of the devil in the leather jacket - Lance is leaning against the cafeteria entrance when we arrive.

“Heya Pidge, Shannon…” He smiles at me. “Shannon, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Pidge snickers quietly and continues on. Lance arches an eyebrow at him as he leaves, then he returns his attention to me.

“You know, folks are pairing up for the princess’s little get-together, right? And since they’ll be needing someone to show them what the perfect couple should look like, I thought we should do the honors.” His smile is so charming that I almost want to go back to Dexter and tell him to forget our agreement. But I’m not one to go back on a promise once I make it.

“Lance…I’m sorry, but I’m already spoken for.”

He looks completely stunned. “What?”

“I’m spoken for. Alan asked me first.”

“Alan? Why would you want to go on a date with Alan?” He straightens fully and takes a half-step toward me. “What happened - did you lose a bet with Lynne or something?” His features sour into an expression of great disappointment, like a little boy who’s been told that there’s no such thing as Santa Claus. I give him as casual a shrug as I can manage in reply.

“No, he just asked first, that’s all. You’ll have to be quicker on the draw next time.”

Lance purses his lips in thought. “All right, but what if Alan can’t make it? Say, for instance, that he falls off of a cliff…a high cliff…a high cliff overlooking Red Lion’s lava pit -”

“Lance…”

He breaks into a winning smile. “Hey, I’m only speculating. The life of a Voltron Force pilot is full of danger, you know. Anything could happen between now and the dinner.”

“Behave. It’s just a date. It doesn’t mean anything more than that.”

He tilts his head and eyes me with suspicion. “Oh yeah?”

The urge to tease is too overwhelming. I can’t resist.

“Well, I don’t know…he has a yacht, and he is kinda cute.”

“Umm-hmm…” Lance rubs at his chin. “But I’m cuter than he is. Much cuter.”

I give him a coy little smile. “Maybe…”

“No maybes about it.” He pouts and manages to look pensive, adorable and sexy all at once. I feel the urge to tell Dexter that our deal is off again. I step back from Lance and give him a pout of my own.

“I suppose next time you’ll just have to be a little quicker, then.”

His gaze is steady as it meets mine. “You know I will.”

“We’ll see.” I walk around him and head into the cafeteria. I can feel his eyes on me as I go. Pidge has been waiting for me at the end of the lunch line. He grins from ear to ear as I fall in step behind him.

“Sucks to be Lance, I guess.” He grins a little wider.

“Imp.” I ruff his hair again and give him a nudge to start him along the lunch line.

“Dexter!” Alan comes charging up the castle corridor with Princess Allura right behind him. They both appear to be in shock, like Coran suddenly decided to take up streaking or something. That would be kind of funny, actually. Maybe if he were drunk enough. I’ve pulled that stunt before…

“Dexter,” Alan says again as he comes even with me. “You have to help us!”

I glance at the princess. She nods firmly.

“Okay…so what’s the problem?”

“We’re getting married,” Alan says.

“Who is?”

“The princess and me,” Alan replies. “We are to be married. To each other.”

“Wait, wait - you and…?” I look at Allura again. She nods firmly once more. I arch an eyebrow at Alan.

“You mean to tell me that I just finished talking Shannon into going to the dinner with you, and you’ve decided to go and propose to Her Highness? What’s going on here?”

“I didn’t propose to Allura,” Alan says. “But Coran assumed that I have.”

“So where’s the problem? Just go and tell him it was a mistake.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” the princess replies. “Coran has already spoken with Alan’s father, and Mister Zruppek will be arriving tomorrow to make the final arrangements with Coran.”

“And you can’t stop them?”

She shakes her head. “As long as Coran remains my guardian and regent, he has the right to make an arranged marriage with the parents of the groom, until I’m twenty-one years of age. It’s an old, obscure law that’s seldom used among nobility or royalty these days, but Coran is taking advantage of it.”

“You’re the Princess of Arus. Can’t you change that law?”

“Not that particular one, no. Not until I’m Queen.”

“When do you turn twenty-one?”

“In five months.”

“So he’s making this one last attempt before his time runs out.”

“Yes he is, the sneaky old -” She bites her remark short. Judging by the tone of her voice, it’s probably the closest she’s ever come to swearing out loud. But this is Princess Allura. She’d probably just call him a poo-poo head or something like that.

“So tell me, princess…what do you want me to do about it?”

“What do you think she wants you to do?” Alan blurts out suddenly. “Think up one of your silly, Dexter-like plans and get us out of this! Do something…anything!”

I don’t even bother to stop the smile that creeps across my lips.

“What’s it worth to you, Alan…?”

“Worth to - ?” He blinks, frowns, ponders my question briefly. “What do you want?”

“I want a yacht.”

“Okay.”

“A big yacht. A yacht with a swimming pool and wall to wall carpeting. Thick, red carpeting that Tasia can stroll around barefoot on.”

“All right.”

“I’ll get you one too,” Allura offers.

“And I want a sports car.”

“You already have one. We all do.”

“I want another one.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Make that two,” Allura says.

Boy, this really is fun. No wonder people enjoy it so much.

“And a private jet.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Alan makes a curt gesture with a hand. “You can have anything you want if you get us off the hook.”

“Anything?”

“Well, anything that’s within my ability to give you.”

“A personal planetary transport,” Allura says. “Your own spaceship…”

This is too much. I give them both a big smile.

“Are you sure you just don’t want to get married? You do make a cute couple…”

“Dexter!” They both cry in unison.

“All right, just kidding. Let’s think about this a minute…” I try to dream up something, but my mind decides to drop the attempt partway along in favor of a daydream where I’m chasing the aforementioned barefoot Tasia through the halls of my new yacht - I’ll name it The Lady In Red. Yeah.

“Dexter…” Allura says with trepidation in her voice. “Have you thought of anything yet?”

“Hmm?”

“To foil the wedding plans. Any ideas?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Come with me - we have to go to the Recreation Area.”

Allura makes a face. “Why there?”

“Because that’s where we’ll find plenty of giant pickles.”

“Pickles?” Alan looks completely clueless - not that it’s a difficult thing for him to do. “Why do we need pickles?”

“Do you want my help or not? Come along.” I start down the hallway and they follow behind, looking confused the whole time. I head straight through the door when we arrive and head for the kitchen area. There’s a jar of mega-gherkins on the bottom shelf of the first refrigerator I open. I pick up the jar and hold it up for them to see.

“Here we are - our secret weapon.”

They both stare at me like I’m nuts. People do that to me a lot. I have yet to figure out why. I set the jar on a countertop nearby.

“Princess, be honest. What do you suppose is the reason that Coran doesn’t want you to marry Keith?”

“Because…” She trails off and frowns. “Coran doesn’t think that Keith is a bad person, not really…he just doesn’t have a title to make him worthy of me.”

“Okay, so Keith has the proper attitude, but not the title. Alan has the title, however, so for him to be considered equally unworthy, he needs a bad attitude. And that’s where the pickles come in. We need to create a very specific scenario, and these will be the props. Work with me, okay?”

Alan and the princess exchange glances, then they both nod at me.

Here we go…

I wonder where Allura has gotten to. The sooner I straighten out this mess with her the better. Where did she get the idea that I was going to propose to her in the first place? I would have blamed it on Lance, but he seemed just as much in the dark as I was. Unless he was lying to me and he set this whole thing up. But that’s a long shot. Lance isn’t much for subtleties when it comes right down to it.

Coran is rounding the far corner of the hall as I walk along. He has such a happy smile on his face that I have to wonder what’s going on. I give him a nod as he comes close. “Coran…good news of some sort?”

“Yes, definitely,” he replies. “Allura is to be married, at long, long last. I’m trying to find her now so I can get her down to the Royal Tailor for a fitting in her wedding gown.”

“Married? Who’s the lucky fellow?”

His smile widens. “She is to married to Alan, the young man on your backup team. He’s from a noble house, you know, and he’s planning to make his official proposal to Allura at the dinner following her poetry contest. Isn’t that simply the most wonderful thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Truly,” I reply with a forced smile. This is getting stranger by the minute. If Allura is to be wed to Alan, why did she think I was the one proposing? And Lance certainly couldn’t have had a hand in a scheme like this. It sounds like some major miscommunications have been going on. All the more reason to find Allura and talk to her.

Coran is still beaming at me. “If you happen to see her before I do, tell her I need to talk with her, will you please?” He claps a hand on my shoulder as he passes me by. I frown at his back briefly before I resume my search. Maybe I’ll deliver the message, and maybe I won’t. It all depends.

After searching out every sitting room and any other place I can think of where she might be at, the thought occurs to me that I might find her in the recreation room for some reason. I immediately head that way. Sure enough, I hear her voice as I step through the door. But the tone of her voice indicates a worry that makes me want to hurry and see what’s going on.

As I step through the archway leading to the cooking area I see her backed against the far wall, staring at something beyond my line of sight. I dash toward her immediately. I hear Alan speaking as I do.

“Come on, Princess,” he says with a leer in his voice. “You’ll need to be a bit more open-minded on the honeymoon, after all.”

I reach Allura’s side and turn to face Alan. He’s holding a large pickle in hand and regarding Allura with an evil grin. His expression changes to one of surprise as soon as his gaze lands on me. I clench my right hand into a fist as I start toward him.

“All right, Alan,” I growl at him. “You may become the future king of Arus further on down the road, but until you do you’re still a pilot on my force, and I am going to teach you some manners where the princess is concerned, right here and now!”

Alan’s jaw drops, snaps shut. He immediately begins to back off as I advance, throwing a fearful look to his left. Dexter is standing there, looking equally surprised. I pause in my approach to point an angry finger at him.

“And you take a seat, because if all you’ve been doing is standing here and letting him get away with this, you’re next on my list.”

“Wait, Captain-Captain -”

“Shut the hell up and sit down. You heard me.” With that I return my attention to Alan, but he’s crossing the room, headed in Allura’s general direction. I charge straight at him with intention to intercept.

Oh, boy. It appears that Keith has come in on the tail end of our practice session, and judging by the rage in his eyes, he fell for the spiel. But he’s not the one we’re trying to convince. This could be bad. Alan thinks so too, considering the speed with which he’s trying to retreat. But Keith is in hurt locker mode, so he’s fast. Alan isn’t going to make it to the door.

Just when I think I may be calling for Doc Leslie, Princess Allura decides to step in Keith’s way. This doesn’t deter Keith one bit; his focus is solely on Alan with full intent to maim. But the princess is equally determined to stop Keith. She braces against his chest with both palms.

“Keith, wait!” She demands. “Listen to me! This isn’t what you think!”

“Not what I think?” He pauses in his attempted attack to regard her with surprise. “You’re up against a wall and there he is with…with that pickle, advancing on you?” He waves a hand in Alan’s general direction. Alan hides the pickle behind his back. “What am I supposed to think?”

“You…look, this doesn’t concern you, okay?”

His expression turns dark. “Like hell it doesn’t.” He tries a lunge at Alan, but the princess keeps pace with him, foiling the attempt.

“Keith, will you just calm down?” She intervenes yet again to stop Keith’s second try at Alan. “Stop this at once! You’re acting like an idiot! Do you hear me?”

Keith isn’t listening. He is bound and determined to do Alan some serious hurt. Alan throws a fearful look my way. The princess looks at me as well.

“Don’t just stand there, Dexter! Get over here and help me stop him!”

Keith shoots a glare my way, his expression promising the same bodily injury he plans to inflict on Alan. But it isn’t quite as intimidating as a Sven Look. I’ve been on the receiving end of a Sven Look before - not long after he found out how I set him up for the naked stroll past Princess Romelle’s balcony, as a matter of fact. A Sven Look is a scary, scary thing. It’s like gazing down the barrel of a fifty millimeter cannon that’s primed to fire at you from half a foot away. And besides, Keith has already promised me a trip to the hurt locker. I don’t really have much to lose.

I take a deep breath, square my shoulders and head toward the ducking and dodging trio. I come right up behind Keith and snag his shirt in both hands. But just as I attempt to tighten my grip he makes yet another lunge at Alan, with extra effort since he realizes I’ve got half a hold on him. He breaks free with more momentum than I think he anticipated, which causes him to stumble forward and collide with the princess. She in turn stumbles backward into Alan, reflexively grabbing at Keith’s shirt as she falls. The three of them land in the middle of the floor in a tangle that would make a tabloid reporter weep with joy.

And just to make to make a complicated matter even more so, who should come walking into the room right then but Coran. He takes note of me first, since the others are hidden from view by the counter.

“Dexter,” he says as he comes near. “Have you seen Allura anywhere? I’m trying to -”

A grunt from the floor catches his attention, and he turns his head that way. Alan is trying to squirm loose from under the princess as Keith tries to rise to his hands and knees. Words alone cannot express the imagery their struggle brings to mind. If I had it available as a video clip for sale, I could retire from the profits.

From my right, I hear a groan and a thump. Coran has fainted. I hurry over to him to check for a pulse as the others get to their feet.

“Coran - !” The princess exclaims as she rushes over and drops to her knees beside him. “Is he all right?”

“Yeah, he just passed out. He’ll be fine.”

“Oh, goodness,” she says, then she gets up again and turns on Keith, who is glaring at Alan. She snags Keith by the arm and yanks him aside to create distance between the two. Keith looks surprised at her show of force as she waves a finger in his face.

“Now you listen to me!” She yells. “I told you that none of this was what you thought, and I am telling the truth! It was all staged! Coran is trying to marry me to Alan, and we were trying to think of a way to make Alan look bad so the wedding would be called off. And you have ruined everything!”

Keith blinks at the princess, looking completely baffled. “You…what?”

The princess explains the situation fully. Keith spends most of the time scratching at his head in consternation. At one point he looks around at Alan. Alan is about to wave at him when he realizes it’s the hand he’s holding the pickle in. He replaces it behind his back. Keith frowns.

“So that’s what this is all about,” he says finally. Allura nods and folds her arms.

“That’s right. And you ruined everything, you…you poo-poo head!”

Poo-poo head. I knew it.

Keith is too stunned to reply. Alan arches an eyebrow at me. “Poo-poo head…?”

“It’s probably her first attempt at full-blown cussing. Give her time. She’ll grow into it.”

Alan looks around at Coran where he lies sprawled on the floor. “What do we do about him?”

“Damage control. Leave it to me.” I rise to my feet. “Princess, go sit in that chair over there. Alan, go stand beside her. Captain-Captain, get some smelling salts and come over here by Coran.”

I get some strange looks, then everyone moves into position. I open a nearby oven, snuff the pilot light and let enough fumes escape to put a smell in the air. Then I shut off the valve, tell Keith to use the smelling salts on Coran, and I clap a hand on his shoulder as he revives.

“Whoa, Coran? You okay?”

He regards me with a bleary gaze. “Dexter…?” He looks around at Keith, then back at me. “What…what happened…?”

“A gas leak, I think. Didn’t notice it until things got really bad and I was seeing some pretty weird things. What did you see?

“Me? I -” He blinks at Keith, looks confused as he sits upright. “I…” His gaze falls on the princess where she sits in a chair across the room, and he gets a puzzled frown. “I…it must have been a hallucination.”

“No doubt,” I reply to him. “So what color was your elephant?”

“Elephant? Oh, I didn’t see an elephant, I - well…it’s not important. What is important is that we have someone from Maintenance sent down here to repair the leak.” He sniffs the air, wrinkles his nose and tries to rise. Keith and I both lend a hand to get him onto his feet. He steps out of our grasp, dusts at his sleeves and approaches the princess.

“Allura, I’ve made arrangements for your fitting with the Royal Tailor. Please go and see her at your earliest convenience, won’t you?”

The princess gives a half-hearted nod. Coran leaves the room, waving a hand in front of his nose as he goes. We all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“So now what?” The princess says with a sigh. Alan looks around at me. I shrug at them both.

“We can still do this, if Keith can keep a secret.”

“Forget it,” Alan tosses the pickle into a trash can nearby. “I’d rather not be the victim of any further misunderstanding. What if it’s Nanny that happens by next time? I could get killed. You have to think of something else.”

“And fast,” the princess adds. She gets to her feet and throws a glance Keith’s way as she leaves the room. Keith watches her go before making his own exit. Alan sighs and leans against a nearby counter.

“Cookies,” he mutters. “I was only talking about cookies, and now I’m getting married. What the hell?” He runs a hand through his bangs, frowns at the floor.

“What if we make it look like you’re been having a fling on the side, with, say, Shannon?”

“It won’t work. My brother already assumes that.”

“And he thinks it’s okay that you’re cheating behind the princess’s back?”

“You’d be surprised at just what my brother thinks is acceptable.”

“Hmm. Well, if he thinks you have at least one gal in the wings, that pretty much rules out trying the classic gay trick, too.” I pause in thought. Alan straightens up from the counter.

“I’m not worried just yet. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” He rounds the table and heads toward the exit, pausing at the doorway. “Right?”

“Right,” I reply with a confidence in my voice that I’m not entirely feeling. Alan smiles in a way that indicates he has total faith in my ability before he disappears into the hallway. Great. Just great.

Another evening, another great sunset. And Allura is marrying Alan. Correction: Allura is being forced to marry Alan because of Coran’s scheming. And I misread Dexter’s plan to try and foil it, so it looks like it’s a done deal. I know Coran. He’s no doubt going full steam ahead with the plans as fast as he can manage. If it wasn’t for a need to observe proper tradition, they would be husband and wife already.

I hear footsteps arriving from behind me. Alan is there when I turn to look, his expression somber.

“Captain…” He says with a slight hesitation to his voice. I nod at him and he moves up to come even with me.

“You do realize that I don’t agree with this, right? I mean, Allura is a nice girl and everything, but this isn’t how things were meant to be.”

“Why do you say that? You’re perfect for her. A native Arusian from a noble house…it couldn’t be a better match.”

“But it wouldn’t be what she wanted. It isn’t what I want either.”

“Marriages of political importance aren’t always done for love. They tend to be more strategic than anything else. You should know that.”

He averts his gaze. “Yes, I know. But it doesn’t change my feelings about it.”

“Alan, don’t you get it? Your feelings don’t matter. Neither do Allura’s. Neither do -” I sigh, frown at the floor. “Neither do mine. Coran will be happy, Nanny will be happy, and the rest of us will just have to deal with it.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” he mutters. “Look, I just wanted you to know that this isn’t a decision that I’m happy with, and if there’s a way to stop the wedding from happening, Dexter will think of it.”

“Dexter, huh. Interesting. You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually managed to pull it off. I never would have thought of that stunt he pulled on Coran with the fake gas leak…sneaky bastard.”

Alan smiles at the admiration in my voice. “Indeed. He’s much more clever than what he lets on. I could tell you all sorts of stories.”

“Maybe you should sometime. I’d be all ears.”

“All right, I’ll keep that in mind. In the meantime, my team has duty tomorrow. I need to turn in. Goodnight, Keith.”

“Alan.” I nod at him as he turns to depart, then I look out the window again. The sun is just about gone. It seems a perfect metaphor for any hopes I may have had for being with Allura someday. The sun has set on my dreams…

No. I don’t want my sunset watching to become depressing. It’s one of the precious few escapes that I have. But right now it’s not doing me much good. I turn away from the window and head back to my room.

To The New Arrivals: Day 3

l

To The New Arrivals: Day 5