He loped easily through the woods, the cool evening breeze whispering sensually through his hair as he moved. Scent and sound swirled around him in dizzying counterpoint as the night murmured its secrets to him, and if he chose to look up he could have seen the moon shimmering through the forested canopy overhead. But he did not look up tonight. Tonight was different... tonight his blood sang a different aria.

He saw the other waiting for him as he broke into the clearing. That one stood silently, tall and strong, bathed in moonlight and shadow, and he could not suppress the shivers that tore through his body at the sight. But there was no fear - there was never fear of this one, only anticipation, and he heard a whimper escape his throat as the other drew him in and then there was nothing but lightning and fire and touch and taste and want and NEED -

- And Lance woke with a start, chest heaving.

He lay still for a moment, shuddering and gasping for breath while willing his heart rate to slow at least a little, before sitting up with a disgruntled snarl. To be honest, he was actually starting to get sick of these dreams. Not because they were unpleasant - far from it - but because they were so damned FRUSTRATING. Really, would it kill his subconscious to let him sleep all the way through one for once? Or at least let him get a good look at his dream lover? Honestly, life was so incredibly unfair sometimes... And lately, the dreams had been getting even weirder, more primal somehow, if such a thing were possible.

Actually, he was surprised he'd fallen asleep at all. Granted, he'd been feeling a bit out of sorts all day, but if anything it had been in the opposite direction - he'd been particularly antsy today, as if he were perpetually on the verge of jumping out of his own skin. Even the others had noticed - Keith had even jokingly asked him if he were really looking forward to tonight's Halloween party that much. Which was, of course, patently ridiculous, though Lance had quite charitably refrained from killing the captain. For one thing, it would have been a waste of perfectly good fantasy material...

The party - gods, he DEFINITELY didn't want to think about that. It was all Pidge's and Hunk's faults anyway; the two had taken it upon themselves to educate Allura about the Terran holiday, and predictably enough she'd been - well, enchanted by the very idea. And when Allura found such ideas enchanting, parties usually ensued. Worse, this was even a COSTUME party. Lance snorted derisively, tail lashing in frustration. Costumes! He didn't WEAR costumes, unless infiltration was involved somehow. What a stupid holiday -

...

Waitaminute... TAIL?

He frantically groped at the top of his head, hoping against hope that he wouldn't find what he thought he was going to find. He HAD skipped lunch today, and dinner wasn't going to be served because of the party. Maybe hunger was making him hallucinate...

Or maybe the old family curse hadn't missed him after all.

Great. He couldn't possibly explain this to the others in any way that made sense - hells, he couldn't possibly explain this to HIMSELF in a way that made sense. Although he supposed it gave him a good reason to skip the party.

Oddly, the thought didn't make him feel any better.

So now what was he going to do?

Well, first off, he decided, he was going to take a long, hot bath. If he was going to spend the evening sulking and generally being miserable, he might as well be clean while doing it.

Keith gritted his teeth as he knocked on Lance's door for the second time in as many minutes. Damn it, where was Lance, anyway? He'd been due at the party at least a half an hour ago.

He really didn't see why Lance had such a problem with this party - hell, even HE'D been able to come up with a suitable costume. Although the next time Pidge asked him where Sailormoon was hiding, he'd throttle the younger pilot, teammate or no. Besides, people who insisting on dressing up as HAGGAR, of all things, had no business critiquing other people's costumes.

Maybe he should have worn the vampire teeth with the rest of the costume after all. Even if the damned things did make him gag...

A sudden mental image of Lance in fuku and odango presented itself and Keith choked on a very un-leaderly snicker. Lance would absolutely kill him for that one, he was sure. Though the look on the other pilot's face would probably be worth it. Probably.

Keith shook his head ruefully. He really didn't have time for this sort of woolgathering, entertaining though it was. Allura had rather pointedly 'asked' him to come down and remind Lance that he had in fact agreed to attend this party, and unfortunately for Keith, Allura was at least as much of a born manipulator as Lance was. Although it wasn't as if Lance couldn't be perfectly reasonable when he felt like it - surely he could be convinced to overcome his... unsociability? shyness? general contrariness? for one evening...

Then again, this was the same teammate who'd skipped his own eighteenth birthday party. Who couldn't be bothered to attend graduation. Who seemed to have a pathological aversion to ANYTHING that would require him to interact sociably with more than three people at a time. And Allura actually expected Keith to TALK Lance into showing up for this? More likely, he'd practically have to CARRY Lance to the damned party just to keep him from bolting, and then SIT on him to make sure he stayed.

Although that might actually be kind of interesting...

Keith reluctantly tore himself away from that particular line of thought and knocked on the door for a third time, frowning when he realized no response was forthcoming. What was Lance DOING in there? Surely he hadn't skipped out entirely - Allura'd kill him if he didn't show up for this party. And then she'd probably kill Keith for good measure. Keith bit back a frustrated sigh. The sad part was that he could understand Lance's objections on some level; granted, Keith wasn't anywhere near as antisocial as the other pilot, but sometimes even he thought Allura threw these things just to annoy them. However, Lance had promised to come to this one, and Keith had promised to make sure he showed up, and that was pretty much that. Which was all well and good as far as Allura was concerned, but then she wasn't the one leaning on Lance's door waiting for him to stop doing whatever it was he was doing and open up already.

Of course, there were other ways around that. Casting a furtive glance around the hallway, Keith quickly keyed in a sequence of numbers on the keypad and then stepped back, grinning triumphantly as the door slid open with a rush of air. He'd made a point of snagging Lance's passcode shortly after the Bocar of Senak fiasco, "just in case," and while technically it was only to be used in the event of an emergency, he was reasonably sure that averting the potential Wrath of Allura qualified. Especially if it led, as it usually did, to the Wrath of Nanny. Lance would just have to deal.

The room was dark when he entered, illuminated only by the moonlight shining through the window. He could see Lance's regular clothes, draped somewhat haphazardly over the desk chair, but no sign of a costume anywhere. Lance was nowhere in evidence in the bedroom, but Keith could hear the sounds of a hair dryer emanating from the bathroom, punctuated by the occasional soft curse. So he was actually getting ready for this thing after all... that was good. Satisfied, Keith sat on the bed and settled down to wait. And wait.

Twenty minutes later, Keith began to worry. What the hell was taking so long? It couldn't take this long for Lance to dry his hair. Had he just turned the dryer on and snuck out or something? Of course, that didn't explain the cursing... Keith dropped his head into his hands and sighed. He wasn't actually going to have to drag Lance out of the bathroom, was he? God, why did the man have to turn everything into such an ordeal?

He was just beginning to steel himself to the eventuality of invading the bathroom when the hair dryer finally stopped. Relieved, he looked up just as the bathroom door hissed open and shut, a teasing admonishment already on his lips - and froze, stunned at the sight that greeted him.

Lance was naked. Completely. Surprisingly, this was not the first thing Keith noticed. No, that would have been the tail. Long, luxuriant, covered in thick russet fur exactly the same color as the fur on the large, delicately tapered fox ears currently adorning Lance's skull - ears that were twitching rather spasmodically at the moment as Lance gazed at him in frozen, wordless horror, pale skin rapidly darkening with embarrassment.

Keith realized he was staring.

Lance swallowed, audibly. "Uh... I guess you'll be wanting an explanation for this."

"So this... transformation... is entirely normal for you."

"Uh-huh."

"And it's going to occur once a year from now on."

"...That's right."

"And it never occurred to you to tell anyone about this sooner?"

Lance shot Keith an exasperated look. "I didn't KNOW."

The two of them were now seated across from each other on Lance's bed. Moonlight streamed lazily through the window, casting the room in a soft, almost dreamlike glow - not that recent events weren't dreamlike enough already, as far as Keith was concerned. After all, it wasn't every day you discovered that your second-in-command was a real, live, honest-to-god werefox.

Said werefox was currently swathed in a hastily-grabbed blanket, tracing invisible patterns on his bedsheets and switching his tail somewhat nervously. Keith had briefly considered offering his cape instead of the blanket, then just as quickly decided against it. Not because he necessarily wanted Lance running around naked - though that certainly wouldn't be a BAD thing, in his estimation - but because he'd borrowed the cape from Sven and if he let Lance take it, there was no way in hell Keith was going to be able to bring himself to give it back. Assuming he didn't tear the thing to shreds stripping it back off him...

"Keith?"

Keith blinked. Lance was gazing at him questioningly, head tilted to one side and ears canted at odd angles. The overall effect was simultaneously endearing and unnerving, and Keith found himself shivering slightly as Lance held his gaze for another few seconds before turning away with a faint blush.

It occurred to Keith that now would be a good time to change the subject. "So how exactly did this happen?"

Now it was Lance's turn to blink in confusion. "I thought I just explained that."

"Humor me," Keith replied smoothly, slipping almost automatically into Captain Keith mode while struggling to bring his rampaging hormones back under control.

That earned him an affable shrug and a lopsided grin that shot straight to his groin, effectively undoing all his efforts. "Okay," Lance relented, patiently beginning the story again.

Keith listened, enthralled, as Lance spoke in hushed, lilting tones of the trapper - not wealthy but certainly well-off - who had come upon a beautiful vixen caught in one of his snares. Of the vixen's desperate pleas for her life and the lives of her children, for her mate was dead and the kits doomed without her. Of the trapper's callous refusal to spare her, and the vixen's rage. And then, finally, of her dying curse and the misfortune that came thereafter...

"And because of this 'curse,' you turn into a fox once a year?"

"Pretty, much, yeah."

Keith raised an eyebrow. "Do you really believe all that?"

"Seems as good an explanation as any," came the slightly defensive rejoinder.

Keith pondered this in silence for a moment. It all seemed so farfetched, but then so was the very notion of werefoxes, and yet here was one sitting right in front of him - and looking damned sexy to boot. Then again, werefoxes in general were supposed to be irresistibly attractive... Keith gave himself a mental shake. At the rate he was going, he'd wind up practically attacking Lance right here, and there'd go Allura's party.

Shit. The party. How could he have forgotten? "Well," Keith quipped, "if nothing else you're a shoo-in to win Best Costume."

Lance stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "What?"

"The party, remember? You did promise you'd go..."

"I can't go like THIS!" Lance protested, looking utterly aghast.

Keith frowned. "Why not? You can always say it's just a costume - "

"Because none of my clothes accommodate a tail, that's why not! What am I supposed to do, stroll around nude?"

Keith blinked. He couldn't believe he'd missed that. Maybe he should start thinking with the other head now...

Lance was staring at him again, blushing so furiously his face almost matched his ears, and Keith swallowed hard, feeling an answering blush creep across his own cheeks. He hadn't just said that out loud, had he?

An awkward silence fell as Keith frantically scrambled for something to say that might salvage the situation, or at least not make things any worse. He noticed that Lance had drawn the blanket a bit tighter around himself and winced sympathetically. After all, Lance's putative ancestors had had the luxury of fur coats - Lance was at something of a disadvantage.

Or was he?

"Hey, Lance... you said your ancestors changed into foxes entirely, right?"

Lance blinked, startled, then slowly nodded. "That was the legend, anyway."

"What about your immediate family? Parents, siblings, cousins? Could they do it?"

"I... my parents died when I was very young. And I didn't have any siblings. But I remember stories about my grandmother..." He paused, glancing sharply at Keith. "Why?"

"Well, I was thinking..." Keith began.

"Always a good sign," quipped Lance, lips quirked in a wry grin. At Keith's reproachful look, he relented. "Go on."

"Thank you. Anyway, I was thinking that if THEY could do it, then certainly YOU could. Right?"

Lance frowned. "I... suppose so."

Keith smiled encouragingly. "Then why don't you give it a try?"

Lance's eyes narrowed. "You just want to get me to that damned party."

"That too," Keith admitted. Though there WERE other, more tempting possibilities that DIDN'T require being out in public...

After a moment's consideration, Lance sighed in defeat. "Okay, you win. I'll give it a try." He started to shrug out of the blanket, then paused. "Um... do you think you could not look?"

"What...? Oh. Right." Keith obligingly - if reluctantly - averted his gaze. Not that he needed to look, anyway - he could picture every plane of Lance's body perfectly well in his mind's eye. Hell, the sight was probably imprinted on his cerebral cortex for all time.

He was jerked away from that train of thought by a sharp, insistent yap. Keith turned back eagerly, unable to suppress a delighted smile at the sight of this new transformation.

The willowy halfling was gone. In his place stood a small, delicate-looking fox, his deep red fur standing out in stark contrast to the white bedsheets. Keith stared, entranced, as the fox regarded him evenly through mist-colored eyes that seemed able to see right through him. It seemed hardly possible that this dainty creature and his brash teammate were one and the same -

::You take that back!::

"Huh?" Was he starting to hear voices now?

::I am NOT dainty!::

Keith nearly fell off the bed in his shock. "You're TELEPATHIC?!"

::Well, I have to communicate SOMEHOW::

Lovely. He'd apparently just spent the past several minutes broadcasting various sexual fantasies directly to the very same teammate who'd been starring in all of them. He'd never be able to look Lance in the eye again...

::And for the record, I'm not normally telepathic. Usually I'm just empathic::

Somehow, that wasn't much of a consolation.

He 'felt' Lance sigh, a tickling sensation at the back of his mind. ::Look, don't worry about it, okay? It's not as if I go out of my way to pry into other people's emotions - I pick up stray bits here and there, but that's about it. It's like so much background noise for me at this point. And contrary to popular belief, I DO possess a modicum of decorum; I'm not about to go blabbing about other people's feelings to any and all interested parties. Okay?::

"... Okay."

::Besides, you should see some of MY fantasies about YOU...::

"Lance!" But Keith couldn't quite suppress a grin as some of the tension in the room began to dissipate. Though Lance always had been good at that sort of thing...

::I'm good at a LOT of things::

Keith rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you are. Now would you mind not skimming my thoughts?"

Lance actually looked contrite. ::Sorry... I'm kinda new to this telepathy thing. I'm not used to picking up actual thoughts instead of feelings:: He paused, regarding Keith solemnly for a moment. ::You... really find me attractive?::

Well, there it was. Keith took a deep breath, knowing a lie was completely out of the question under the circumstances and hoping Lance wouldn't react too badly. "...Yes."

::Really?:: Lance fell silent for a moment, and then Keith felt the strange but not at all unpleasant sensation of a slow, wondering smile spreading across his mind. ::Cool::

Keith raised an eyebrow, amused in spite of himself. " 'Cool'? That's all you have to say about it?"

::Give me a few minutes, and I'm sure I can wax rhapsodic for you::

"Actually," Keith remarked dryly, "we don't really have a few minutes." And with that, he scooped Lance up in his arms and headed for the door, ignoring the werefox's indignant yelp.

::Hey! What are you doing? Put me DOWN!:: Lance protested, squirming rather ineffectually in Keith's grasp.

"Sorry," Keith replied, "but I did promise Allura I was going to deliver you to this party, and at least this way I know you're not going to take off running for parts unknown."

Lance glared balefully at him ::Bastard::

"My mother would be very surprised to hear that," Keith responded, grinning at the fuming little fox. "Now, let's go. We're already late as it is."

::Right. Mustn't keep our adoring public waiting, after all::

"Shall I have the servants lay out the red carpet for us, then?"

::Shut up::

But Keith could still feel Lance's silvery laughter all the way to the ballroom.

Hours later, Lance padded over to a convenient chair, wondering exactly why he'd agreed to go along with this. Parties, even small ones, had always been something of a chore for him to begin with, and the increased acuity of his senses did absolutely nothing to ease his discomfort. Why did people have to be so damned LOUD at these things? He already had a killer headache, and he suspected it was only going to get worse as the night went on. And the next person who walked up to him and squealed, "What a cute doggie!" was going to get bitten, Allura be damned. He was neither cute nor a dog and he saw no reason to encourage anyone's misconceptions regarding matters. Besides which, they always insisted on petting him, and in doing so they invariably wound up rubbing his fur the wrong way. He wondered if this was some bizarre Arusian custom - HE'D certainly never considered walking up to strange animals and putting his hands all over them. What was WRONG with these people, anyway?

At least the mice were giving him a wide berth, though. Gods knew he was hungry enough to eat them at this point. Having no opposable thumbs really sucked.

He had to admit he was amazed at how well the others had taken this. Sure, there had been a certain amount of initial skepticism, but thankfully they'd adjusted relatively quickly. It probably helped that he'd left the explanations to Keith - the werefox thing was enough of a bombshell without the added wrinkle of telepathy. And people were generally more inclined to believe Keith than him anyway, and so were less likely to write Keith's explanations off as some sort of practical joke. Besides, foxes weren't exactly a native Arusian species.

On the other hand, Keith had blushed so hotly when Allura had asked about his 'transitional' form that Lance had been worried the captain would explode or something. And the look on his face when she'd asked if they could see it...! Priceless. He grinned at the memory and settled down to watch the goings-on with an (almost) contented sigh.

Predictably, most of the guests were attired as Arusian heroes, both historical and fictional (and probably historical fictional as well, for that matter). It came as absolutely no surprise to him that Allura had chosen to dress as the Arusian goddess of Death, though some of the other guests looked more than a little unnerved at the sight. Which, he supposed, was kind of the point. He could see Pidge skulking around the punch bowl - probably waiting for the opportunity to spike it - and Hunk hovering nearby, dressed as a... carpet? With a crossbow? That was... different. Sven and Romelle, by contrast, looked elegant as ever (though Lance was almost afraid to ask how Sven had gotten Romelle into that fuku) and Keith...

Well, Keith just looked hot.

Keith had been keeping a close eye on him all evening, ostensibly to make sure none of the other guests stepped on him but more likely to make sure he didn't scarper for his room or something. As if that would do him any good - he couldn't exactly work a keypad with paws, now, could he? Granted, he could probably do a quick transform into his halfling state, but a) he had absolutely no desire to give any random passersby a free show; and b) his godsdamned tail kept throwing off his balance. No, he was for all intents and purposes stuck here, fated to spend the evening looking and acting like a glorified pet. For the umpteenth time that night, Lance roundly cursed his ancestry.

"You all right?"

Lance looked up to see Keith standing over him, regarding him with a vaguely worried expression on his face. Actually, Keith looked just plain tired - Lance would have frowned in concern himself, if he'd had the facial muscles for it at present. ::I'm okay... just bored. But you look like you're about to fall over::

Keith smiled. "No, it's okay. I'm fine."

::Uh-huh. Aside from that 'talking out loud to strange animals' thing, of course::

"'Strange' is right," Keith riposted, smirking. Lance stuck his tongue out at Keith but didn't bother with a retort - he'd walked into that one fair and square.

::Seriously, you do look tired. Did you want to sit down?::

Now Keith looked doubtful. "Not if it means you have to get up - " he began, but was interrupted as Lance easily jumped off the chair to the floor. The werefox gazed up at him expectantly and Keith sighed. "Lance..."

::Sit down::

"But - "

::Sit!::

Deciding it wasn't worth the argument, Keith gratefully sat, unfortunately missing the mischievous glint that suddenly appeared in Lance's eyes. Thus he was unprepared to find himself with a lapful of werefox only seconds later. "Lance!" he squawked indignantly.

::Shh! Not so loud - do you want everyone in the room to hear you?:: Especially given that Allura had already informed all and sundry that Red Lion's pilot was 'absent due to illness,' and having Keith call him by his name when he was in this form not only raised suspicions but also made Keith sound vaguely addled. Although the latter could probably be blamed on the punch.

"Sorry," Keith hissed, wincing slightly as Lance went about making himself comfortable. "You know, you really should think about cutting your nails."

Lance snorted. ::And WHO was the one who insisted we had to hurry up and leave?::

"Point," Keith conceded. "Actually, several points." He paused, considering. "You know, you're awfully light."

Lance blinked, nonplussed. ::Keith, I'm a fox. Foxes aren't exactly heavy, you know::

"Well, no," replied Keith, "but... what about the rest of your mass?"

::My WHAT??::

"Your mass. It has to go somewhere when you're in fox form..."

::I turn vulpine one night a year and you're worried about my extra MASS?!::

"I -"

::Unless this is just a roundabout way of calling me fat...?::

"Now who's being ridiculous?" Keith snorted, riffling Lance's fur affectionately.

::HEY!!!:: Lance yelped, glaring reproachfully at Keith. ::Do you have any idea how MISERABLE that feels?::

Keith had the grace to look contrite. "Sorry."

::People have been doing that to me ALL NIGHT, you know::

"Okay, okay!" Keith responded. "I get the picture." And with that he began carefully smoothing Lance's (literally) ruffled fur back into place.

Lance sighed blissfully, letting his eyes slide slowly shut. That felt... really good. Keith's touch was just right - not forceful in any way, but not so light as to be ticklish either. He could get used to this very quickly...

"Better?" Keith whispered smugly as he began to run his hands through the thick fur on Lance's body.

::Mmn:: 'Better' wasn't the word, Lance thought as he relaxed bonelessly in Keith's lap. 'Heavenly,' maybe. 'Almost too good to be allowed in public,' definitely.

Keith snickered softly. "I do believe you're purring," he teased.

::Foxes don't purr:: Lance retorted, but there was no venom in it. He felt too good.

He heard Keith chuckle again but chose to ignore it, content to lie still and let himself drift as Keith continued his ministrations. By rights, he probably shouldn't be letting Keith do this to him, at least not in public like this - he did have SOME dignity to preserve, after all. But it was difficult to muster any kind of protest when Keith was making him feel this warm and safe and wanted. It was like being back in his dream, only more diffuse, less intense...

Until Keith reached the base of his tail.

He jerked in shock, nearly tumbling off Keith's lap in the process. That was... that felt... gods! He felt Keith's hands on him as the captain caught and steadied him, and found himself shivering at the contact, every nerve ending in his body thrumming with almost unbearable intensity.

Keith was equally stunned. He'd been so caught up in the feel of that silky-soft fur that he hadn't really considered what effect his touch must have been having on Lance. He mentally kicked himself - Lance was hardly a pet, regardless of how small and fuzzy he appeared at the moment. Keith relaxed his hold on Lance and shivered a bit, himself, remembering what Lance had looked like in his halfling state and wondering what it would feel like to run his hands over bare skin instead of this decadently soft fur...

Lance locked eyes with him, vulpine face completely unreadable. Slowly, deliberately, never once averting his gaze, he lowered his head and licked the fingers of Keith's hand one by one.

Keith shuddered convulsively, stifling a groan. "Was that an invitation?" he gasped throatily.

Lance's voice was a sinuously sensual purr that sent shocks through his body. ::Do you want it to be?::

"The thought had crossed my mind, yes." GOD, yes.

Lance gazed at him measuringly, eyes glinting with barely suppressed mischief. ::Did you have anything specific in mind?::

Keith squirmed under the werefox's steady gaze, uncomfortably aware of his increasing arousal and hoping it wasn't glaringly obvious to anyone who happened to be glancing in their direction. "I've got... a few ideas."

::Oh? Anything you'd care to share with me right now?::

Keith's jaw dropped. "Now? Here?"

Lance paused, appearing to consider Keith's words. ::You're right. Perhaps we should continue this... conversation... elsewhere::

"You just want to get away from this party," Keith joked, grinning in spite of himself.

::That too.::

Keith laughed outright at that, not caring whether any of the other partygoers noticed. "Well, far be it from me to disappoint," he said airily as he rose to his feet, cradling Lance securely in his arms. "C'mon, let's go."

::Like I've a choice in the matter, the way you're carrying me?:: But there was no malice in Lance's gibe - if anything, Keith thought, he actually sounded a little breathless. Which was gratifying, if a little odd; COULD mindspeech be considered 'breathless'?

Not that that was exactly an important question at the moment.

He found Allura and the rest of the team standing near the buffet, chatting amongst themselves. Allura caught sight of him first and smiled winningly, only to frown in concern as he drew closer. "Is everything all right, Keith? You look flushed."

Keith choked. Was it that obvious? "I'm fine, Princess, really. A little tired, that's all."

Allura gazed dubiously at him but didn't press the issue. "Well, it HAS been an eventful day, after all..." Her gaze shifted to Lance, who merely blinked back at her, content to play dumb at present. "What about Lance? How's he holding up?" she asked.

"He's okay," Keith replied, wondering if she was even aware of what she'd just said. "A bit tired, himself." He paused. "Actually, I think I'm just going to take him. Back to my room. Um, his room." Keith mentally smacked himself upside the head as Lance rolled his eyes in mock-disgust. "I mean, we're leaving."

Allura's frown deepened. "Already? It's fairly early yet..."

"I know," Keith replied. "But you know how Lance is about parties; I think he's feeling a bit -"

::Overstimulated?::

" - Overwhelmed," Keith finished, wondering if maybe he shouldn't smack Lance instead.

Lance shot him a faintly reproving glance. ::I hope that's not your idea of foreplay::

"ANYway," Keith continued, ignoring him, "I think it's probably best that I take - put - him to bed. He's about wiped out as it is."

"I can see that," Allura remarked wryly as Lance chose to emphasize Keith's point by swooning dramatically against one caped shoulder. Keith grimaced - Lance's nose was currently buried in his neck and the werefox's whiskers felt rather uncomfortably ticklish. And there was the not so small matter of Lance's tail, which was fortunately covering his arousal, but unfortunately doing absolutely nothing to assuage it.

::Well then, hurry up and get us out of here!:: Lance suggested, pointedly flicking his tail for good measure. Keith bit his lip, trying not to squirm too obviously. He'd get Lance for this... though he rather suspected that's what the other man was counting on.

Allura appeared to be stifling something. Keith felt a sudden stab of panic - he could just imagine what she must be thinking of all this.

"Well," the princess finally suggested, a faint smile playing on her lips, "you'd best get going then. I'd hate to make things any... harder on him."

Keith could feel Lance snickering in the back of his mind. "I... thanks, Princess." He smiled himself, grateful for the reprieve. "We'll take our leave of you then." And with a parting nod, he turned as gracefully as he could manage under the circumstances and slowly made his way out of the ballroom, Lance's small form clutched tightly in his arms.

Sven raised an eyebrow as he watched them go. "Well, that was... unsubtle," he observed, absently toying with the fasteners on his white cape.

"About time, though," replied Allura. "I was beginning to think those two would NEVER get around to doing anything."

Hunk looked positively green. "But he... Lance... that is... he's a DOG!" he blurted, clearly finding the very idea too horrible to contemplate.

"Foxes aren't dogs," Pidge corrected automatically. "And besides," he added somewhat impishly, "some people like that sort of thing."

"Yeah, but... KEITH?"

"He DID say that Lance had a transitory form of some sort," Allura mused, her tone pensive.

Silence.

"Hidden cameras," Pidge decided. "Definitely hidden cameras, next year."

"Pidge!" Romelle scolded, sounding highly affronted.

Allura shook her head, her gaze only slightly reproving. "I'm sorry, Pidge, but that's out of the question."

Pidge's face fell.

"Unless I get to watch, too."

The others crashed to the floor, twitching, drawing stares from those remaining guests who were still sober.

Allura merely smirked.

It was close to noon by the time Lance awoke the next day. Not that it mattered - things were generally subdued the day after a party anyway, what with the rampant epidemic of hangovers that inevitably rolled over the denizens of the Castle of Lions. Even Keith tended to respect this - at any rate, he virtually never scheduled practice sessions before noon on the day after a party.

Then again, Keith wasn't exactly in any condition for practice himself at the moment. He was still sleeping, wrapped around Lance like some kind of living blanket.

Lance smiled contentedly to himself as he shifted slightly in Keith's arms, taking care not to disturb the other man. The captain had proved a surprisingly ardent (and vigorous) lover. Not to mention innovative... Lance honestly hadn't thought half of the things they'd done last night were even physically possible, much less that he'd actually wind up doing any of them. Of course, he didn't really have much in the way of experience anyway; he'd been too worried about the curse to think that much about dating. Flirting, yes, and the occasional casual 'outing,' but not serious dating - it simply hadn't been worth the potential risk of rejection, in his view. And he'd never relished the idea of casual sex, either - probably due more to some vestige of vulpine instinct than anything else, but there it was.

Well, it certainly looked as if he didn't need to worry about disclosure anymore. Keith hadn't seemed repulsed at all by his transformation - far from it. Lance blushed faintly as he remembered some of the choicer events of the night before. Keith had made a point of hunting down nearly every erogenous zone on Lance's body, including some he'd never even considered. He'd never thought you could pull that many sensations from a simple ear-skritching. To say nothing of the things Keith had done to, and with, his tail...

Not that he hadn't gotten 'creative' with his tail, himself.

Of course, there was another side of last night's events to consider as well, one he really didn't want to think about. Lance sighed morosely, biting his lip as he tucked an errant strand of chestnut hair behind his ear. His HUMAN ear.

He must have changed back during the night, he realized. On the surface, he supposed he mainly felt relieved. He no longer heard everything, sensed everything, with such painful clarity. He didn't have to worry about trying to walk with the sudden added weight of a tail, or finding clothing that fit, or waiting forever for wet fur to dry. He could be normal for the rest of the year now - or at least, as close to normal as he ever got.

And yet he felt... LESS, somehow - oddly hollow, as if someone had ripped a part of him out and stuck it on a shelf somewhere. That was unexpected. All his life he'd heard the horror stories, the lamentations of his storied ancestors as they gnashed their teeth and cursed their freakish natures and strove in vain to return to 'normal.' No one had ever told him about this part of it, the sense of loss that 'normalcy' imposed on the morning after.

What would Keith say?

Would Keith even WANT him like this?

He didn't want to think about it, didn't even want to consider the possibility. It seemed a cruel irony to him that the very thing that had set him apart for so long might be the only reason Keith desired him in the first place. The thought pained him more than he wanted to admit. And he'd thought the dreams were unfair?

With a forlorn little sigh he shut his eyes, hoping sleep would reclaim him. At least he could dream for a little while longer...

Or not, he thought apprehensively as he felt Keith's arms tighten around him. It looked like he was going to have to deal with this now whether he wanted to or not.

"'Morning," Keith murmured sleepily, his breath warm on Lance's ear.

Lance grinned in spite of himself. "More like noon, actually."

That seemed to wake Keith up. "Really? That late?"

"Yep."

"Huh." Lance could almost see Keith frowning behind him. Keith almost never overslept, not even at the Academy, and waking up this late in the morning was probably a new experience for him. And it was a good bet that by now, most everyone in the Castle knew WHY Keith had slept in, which had to feel more than a little uncomfortable. Hells, Lance was a bit weirded out himself - gossip was one thing, but gossip of which you were the subject was quite another. He could just imagine the looks the two of them would get when they finally showed their faces.

And of course, there was the whole werefox issue to contend with as well. Hiding in his room all day was starting to look like a really viable plan...

"Lance? Are you all right?"

"I... why wouldn't I be?" Lance stammered, taken aback. Was he that transparent?

"I don't know," Keith replied, gently smoothing another errant lock of hair from Lance's face. "You just seem... kind of tense. Worried." The hand caressing Lance's hair stilled. "You're not having regrets about last night, are you?"

Lance's eyes went wide. "What? Of course not!" he gasped, wriggling around to stare up at Keith as the other regarded him with a worrisomely solemn expression. "It's just that... I... that is..." He sighed, steeling himself for the inevitable. "Are you?"

Keith blinked. "Am I what?"

Lance averted his gaze, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. "Having regrets."

Keith looked utterly flabbergasted. "Why in the world would I have any regrets? I've only been wanting to get you into bed for the last six months now..."

"Yeah, but what about..." Lance trailed off as Keith's words sank in. "Six MONTHS?"

"Six months," Keith replied, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Six very LONG months." The smile widened, became a smirk. "You're the empath. Couldn't you tell?"

Lance was speechless. Six months? Keith had been after him for six months? And he hadn't NOTICED? Gods, he WAS slipping.

"You know," he finally managed, "you COULD have said something to me. Could have saved us both a lot of grief."

Keith snorted. "How was I supposed to know that?"

Lance raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be our All-Knowing, All-Seeing Leader?" he teased with an impish grin.

"Hey, I'M not the one with the mental powers here," Keith protested. "Besides, I dropped plenty of hints for you."

"You call that 'dropping hints'?"

"They were perfectly adequate hints!"

"See, there's your problem. You stopped at 'adequate' when you should have gone for 'spectacular.'"

Keith rolled his eyes. "I'll remember that next time I try seducing you," he remarked dryly.

Lance's mouth went dry. "Next time?" That sounded promising...

"Well, YEAH," Keith replied as he ran one hand lightly down Lance's cheek. "What, you thought this was a one-time only deal?"

Actually, yes, Lance thought. But then, he was apparently being particularly dense this morning.

Keith's eyes were dancing with a suppressed laughter. "You're not getting away from me THAT easily, you know."

"Do I look like I'm trying that hard?"

"If you are, you're doing a piss-poor job of it." Lance stuck his tongue out at Keith but said nothing, content for the moment to lie quietly in his new lover's arms. He felt Keith draw him closer and snuggled against the other man with a happy sigh as Keith gently stroked his hair. Oh, yes - he could definitely get used to this...

"Hey, Keith?"

"Hm?"

"When WERE you planning on seducing me again?"

The wicked glint in Keith's eyes was the only warning he got.

*** fin *** Voltron and all characters therein property of World Event Productions Hyakuju Oh Go-Lion and all characters therein property of Toei Animation *** ***
The Vixen's Curse
***

Long ago, a man came upon a beautiful fox caught in a trap. The fox pleaded with the man to let her go; her mate was dead, lost to another trap, and she had kits to feed. Should the man kill her now, her kits would starve.

The man paused for a moment, considering her plea, then shook his head. He was, after all, a trapper - it was how he made his living. In fact, the trap that currently held the vixen was one of his.

"But surely, one hide would not make much difference?"

Not so. The vixen's pelt was particularly lovely - it would fetch a fine price at market.

"Ah... so my pelt will help sustain your family? Will help to feed your children?"

In actuality, the trapping season had been kind to the man this year. He had acquired many fine pelts already and his family would certainly have plenty this year.

"And yet you would not extend me the same courtesy? For the winter will be hard and my children barely weaned."

The man refused. Courtesy was not the issue at stake here, and besides, she was a very lovely vixen.

"But my children will die!"

The man hesitated, uncertain, then raised his dagger.

The vixen snarled. "You will regret your greed."

The man ignored her. She was just a fox, an animal. What could she possibly do to him? And with that thought, he brought the knife down. And as he did, he heard the fox's voice like an icy wind whispering through his mind:

"Then I curse you, Human. You and yours will suffer as I and mine have. You will lose all that you hold dear and your family will fall into misery and squalor. But they will not die by this curse, oh no. For one night of the year, you and yours will become me and mine. On the night when the veil between this world and the world of the dead is weakest, you and yours will lose your Humanity and become as beasts, to be hunted and trapped as I and mine are. Your clan and mine will be forever linked, you and your children and your children's children... to the end of time."

And so it came to pass. The pelts were lost in a fire, and the barn with it. The man's wife was lost to childbirth and the baby with her. It was whispered that the child was born with a fox's head and the woman had died of fright, but who can say? The remaining children were reduced to begging for food, for any traps the man set out remained empty. And then one night... on the night when veil between this world and the next is weakest...

That night the man dreamed. He dreamed that he became a fox, with narrow fox's jaws and delicate fox's paws and a fox's long, lush tail. And as he changed his children changed with him until they were no different than the beasts he had once trapped. And the vixen's mocking laughter rang in his ears as he fled from the sight, his children's mournful cries following him into the woods. And he remembered her words: "For one night of the year, you and yours will become me and mine."

And in his heart he wept tears he could not cry.

***
fin
***

Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, the costumes went as follows:

Keith.... A Vampire
Lance.... Uh... fuzzy
Pidge.... Haggar (because I couldn't resist the seiyuu joke)
Hunk..... Chewbacca
Allura... Altea, goddess of Death (because I couldn't resist the Go-Lion pun)
Sven..... Kunzite
Romelle.. Zoisite as Sailormoon

Graphics courtesy of Kitty Mother Creations