Chapter Text
In the wings of the thriving night club Pidge and Lance waited. Situated behind a large spot light their hiding place had been carefully chosen.
"Lance," Pidge hissed, grabbing his collar. "For the millionth time, stay still. You're going to get us caught."
"Come on Pidge," Lance whined. "I can't help it. We're finally in a place worth staking out!"
Pidge rolled her eyes, finger pressed to her lips.
"Guys?" Hunk spoke over the intercom.
"How's it going?" Shiro responded.
"I'm on break," Hunk said cheerfully. "And I think I've changed their minds on those weird little cookies."
"Hunk," Allura hissed. "Focus."
"Right."
Shiro cleared his throat.
Hunk spoke ever softer, picking up speed, sounds echoing behind him. "Okay, so after break they're going to put me out on the floor. I'll get the bottle into one of the cups and get it to the right guy.”
"General Gorgon," Pidge reminded him. She flipped through the blurry photos they'd managed to get, two galra in full armor, always surrounded by guards, a mix of girls hanging off their arms at all times.
Lance watched her scroll, gnawing his lip. "And you're sure Kolivan wants this guy dead? Like dead, dead? Isn't this a bit extreme?"
Directly below them in their booth Shiro and Allura exchanged glances. The pair were dressed in the proper club high collar dressings, Allura a vision in pale pink, her disguise of dark violet fur hiding all altean markings. She picked at the edge of the table.
"I will admit I was apprehensive when the blade first approached us with the mission," she said.
"But the general is close to catching the undercover blade member. They've been undercover too long to lose thier position."
Lance opened his mouth to argue.
"And," Allura pressed, "if this blade member kidnapped the general themselves they'd be caught. They'd lose all the information they've collected already, all the progress that has been made."
"And this General is over trading," Shiro defended. "All we have to do is kidnap the general. The blade will interrogate. They never said they were going to kill him."
"That's the impression I got."
Pidge snorted at Lance. "That's because you're scared of them."
"Am not!" Lance flushed. "Doesn't anyone think it feels a little underhanded for the great Palladians of Voltron?"
"Moral implications later," Shiro tensed. "I think Allura and I have been found out."
"What?" Pidge hissed.
"Two guards in the corner," Shiro moved to stand, face falling into the throbbing dance room lights. Hair slicked back, a thick amount of makeup covering his scar he was unrecognizable. He wore a long cape, fur covered and long enough to hide his false arm.
"Stay where you are," Pidge snapped. "If we've been made then Hunk has to get out first. Hunk?"
No answer.
"Hunk?" Pidge paused, swearing under her breath. "He must be off break."
"What do we do?" Lance asked, struggling to keep panic at bay.
"Allura and I can get to him," Shiro continued to peak out from behind his curtain.
"No," Pidge stopped him. "You two stay where you are. We need you there. Lance, are you ready?"
Lance was on his feet in a second. "Born ready." He brushed the dust of his silky midnight suit, straightening the thin blue tie, running his hand through slicked hair. "How do I look?"
Pidge glanced up behind light blinded glasses. "Annoying as usual."
"Pidge," he whined.
"Lance," Allura snapped. "We're running out of time. Hunk is going to be out on the floor any second."
Lance grumbled. "Fine, I'm going, I'm going." He crawled out from behind the light, jumping to the floor from the corner, taking a second to look around, making sure no eyes were on him.
The floor was light, lights throbbing violet and red. Only a few feet from him an alien girl with a curtain of hair to the floor winked at him.
"This is awesome," Lance breathed, a grin crossing his face.
"Go!" Pidge's voice ordered in his ear.
Regretfully Lance walked around the edge of the dance floor.
There, heading straight from the kitchens, Hunk walked straight with a tray of glasses held in his hands.
Making a bee line to him Lance grabbed the nearest cup. He paused in front of him, talking out of the corner of his mouth, pretending to sip. "Hunk."
Hunk stopped dead, never looking at him, lowering the tray and offering him another glass.
"Shiro thinks we've got someone on our tail," Lance set his cup back down. "Back off and get in touch with Shiro and Allura. Pidge is making a new plan."
He took a new glass of a different liquid before walking off.
Hunk blanched, the color changed near invisible in the strong lights. He nodded, turning on his heel and heading back.
"Pidge?" Lance whispered. "Hunk knows. What now?"
He got no answer.
"Pidge?"
Lance walked aimlessly across the back wall, sipping his drink. There was still no sound.
Not paying attention Lance bumped into a figure, his eyes on the light behind which Pidge hid.
"Sorry," he said quickly, squinting at the new figure.
"No problem," a woman spoke.
He couldn't quite see her face. His mind still spun. Why didn't he have an exit plan? The thumping music was making it hard to think.
He glanced past the woman, watching Hunk ducking back into the kitchen.
Good Lance thought, at least he's-
His thoughts stopped dead, a soft hand brushing across his shoulder, down to his chest.
"What are you doing here all alone?" The woman whispered into his ear.
All Lance's attention was now frozen on her. Her face inches from his he couldn't see anything but the sheet of dark hair, pale shoulders, a glittering red dress, the thigh slit nearly at her hip.
Struggling to keep his jaw from hitting the floor he realized. This woman was human, an actual human woman. Thoughts spinning he watched her pull back.
That low cut top was far past distracting, her lithe figure zipped into a form fitting dress.
Lights flitting across them for a single second Lance could see her face. Pale, probably Korean, her violet eyes were black lined, lashes long, blinking over scarlet lips, a doll face caked in makeup.
The bowed lips curled into a devious smile.
"Come with me," she put an arm through his, fingers brushing the back of his hand.
"Wh-where are we going?" Lance stuttered, not awake enough to stop himself from being dragged through the crowd.
She paused near the back wall, pulling him close. "Don't worry about that," she purred. "I just want to talk is all."
"I, I should get back to-" Lance stopped.
The girl stuck out her bottom lip. "Oh, don't be like that. If you were really here with someone they wouldn't let you out of their sight. We wouldn't want anyone to steal you away Lance."
His heart jumped into his throat. "How did you-"
Her perfectly painted nails dug into the arm of his suit. "Come with me."
Lance couldn't speak, pulse too loud in his ears. Casting his eyes around wildly he tried to find any of his teammates. First to the light, then the closed kitchen door, and finally to the curtained off booth he called silently, panic cutting off rationality.
Beside him the girl marched with purpose, heels clicking audibly.
"Where are we going?"
"Shh," she pushed him against a wall, one arm pinning Lance. Her other hand reached, opening a storeroom closet beside him. "Let's go," she let go, shoving him into the closet, door clicking shut behind them.
Stumbling into a rack of bottles Lance spun around quickly.
The girl leaned against the door, arms crossed. Hair slid over her pale shoulders. She paused, fingering the choker she wore above a pointed collar bone.
"What the hell are you doing here Lance?" She snarled, all suave persuasion gone.
"How do you know who I am?" He squared his shoulders.
"It's," she paused, glancing down at herself. "Oh right."
With a quick snap she pulled off the choker, a mess of wires behind the fabric.
Her voice dropped several octaves, a man's voice that Lance would know anywhere. "I'll ask again. What the hell are you doing here?"
This time Lance's jaw did hit the floor. "Keith?"
Suddenly he could see, even in the flickering closet light, the false edges in his costume. Lance saw the odd note in the curves, the place where wig met real hair.
"Holy quiznack," Lance couldn't breathe, something in him waging a war.
"Lance," Keith snapped his fingers in his face. "Why are you here?"
The piece in his ear squealed loudly. "Lance!" Pidge yelped. "Lance can you hear me? I had to fill Hunk in. Your line went out. Lance, can you hear me?"
Slapping a hand to his ear Lance winced. "Loud and clear Pidge."
"Pidge?" Keith leaned forward, nearly pressed into him, listening to the earpiece. "You dragged her here too?"
"Keith?' Pidge asked. "Is that-"
"What are you doing here?" Keith interrupted. "What part of undercover do you not get?"
"The undercover part," Pidge was almost audibly rolling her eyes.
Lance pulled the earpiece out, stepping back from Keith, struggling to find the oxygen in their small storage space. "We didn't know you were here," Lance said quickly.
"And I didnt know the blade were sending babysitters," Keith glared at him.
"We're not here to babysit," Pidge defended. "The blade sent us here to kidnap the general."
"And my four pheebs of undercover work means nothing?"
"I don't know," Pidge snipped. "They didn't say."
Lance felt his jaw drop. "Four?" he yelped, though he was readily ignored.
Keith rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Fine. What's the plan?"
"Hunk has been placed in the kitchens. He's got an inhibition potion thing for the drinks. The plan was to get the general drunk and nab 'em once they went outside."
"Won't work," Keith leaned against the wall.
"What?"
"The general has a personal guard. Two inside and one outside."
"Then what do you suggest?" Lance tried to deflect Keith's glare, his insides twisting in unfamiliar ways.
This time Pidge was the one to answer. "Shiro and Allura are down there, hiding in a nearby booth. They can get the guards."
"They can't get them both alone," Keith said. "Have Hunk go to the one by the booth, give him the drink. Then it'll just be the general and the lieutenant. And you'll have to kidnap me too. My standing here is too good to compromise."
"Okay," Pidge agreed.
"I need to be prepared to react."
Pidge wavered. "We don't have any extra ear pieces."
"Take mine," Lance held his out. "I can go back to Pidge, help her out."
"No," Keith shook his head, that sheet of dark hair flicking around his waist. "No. You'll need it in case anything goes wrong. I'll just take you with me."
"What?"
"Sounds good to me," Pidge said. "I'll let the others know the plan."
"Don't tell them it's me," Keith cut in quickly. "I'm in disguise. They won't treat me as a hostile if they know. It'll be easier to get the job done."
"If you say so." Pidge's line cut off.
"What do you mean you're taking me with you?" Lance sputtered.
"It'll be suspicious if I vanish for ten minutes for no reason," Keith walked to him, lifting one high heeled foot onto the bucket next to Lance, pulling up the hem of the glittering dress.
"What reason are you going to give them?" Lance could feel his insides squirm.
"Breathe, would you?" Keith rolled his eyes. "It's not like I'm taking them your severed head."
Lance flinched, watching Keith pull up the skirt to a thigh holster.
Its contents were hidden in small tubes.
"What's that?"
Keith raised an eyebrow and pulled out a tube of lipstick.
"Wait, what are you-"
"Hold still," Keith wiped his thumb across the thick pigment, then across Lance's mouth.
"Keith!" Lance went to wipe it away.
Re- applying the color to his lip Keith tucked the tube away, He swung his false curtain of hair over his shoulder, the curls coming undone.
"Keith," Lance asked again. "What reason are you going to give them?"
"I'm going to tell them you're an old friend from earth."
He loosened Lance's tie, undoing the buttons of his jacket, even untucking one tail of his shirt. Each movement was deftly done, fingers moving without conscious thought.
On the other hand, Lance couldn't hold still, heart hammering so loud it must have been vibrating across his skin, cheeks gone scarlet. "And what are you doing now?" he yelped, tugging his shirt back down
"Giving the impression we were making out," Keith pressed a very quick kiss under his ear, lipstick clinging to his skin.
"What-Keith!?"
"It's Kira."
Keith clasped the choker, his voice modulator, back around his neck, pulling Lance out of the closet.