"Yer latest shipment ov hair care produx?" asked Sven, visiting for the weekend.

"No," said Lance, unconsciously smoothing back the hair that had become disarrayed in his hurry.

"Your Victoria's Secret catalog?" inquired Hunk with a knowing smile.

"No!" huffed Lance, tossing him a withering glance.

"No Hunk, it's probably his order from Victoria's Secret," chuckled Keith.

"Is NOT!" yelled Lance. He glared at the three of them while they returned his glare with amused expressions. Finally, he threw himself onto a couch and sulked. "Fine. See what I care."

A few minutes passed quietly as the others resumed what they had been doing before Lance's arrival. Hunk worked out some schematics for a new hovercraft engine, Sven went back to a book on Polluxian culture, and Keith resumed his paperwork.

"Don't you even want to know what it is?" Lance whined.

Keith glanced at Sven. Sven quirked an eyebrow. "Sure, Lance, what is it?" said Keith. As they all well knew, sometimes it was best just to humor Lance.

Lance sat up grinning and began to open the package, his excitement obvious. ~Just like Christmas,~ thought Keith. ~He can get so excited, even over the smallest things.~ His curiosity got the best of him and he wandered over to the couch.

"Ta-da!" said Lance, triumphantly extracting a small audio diskette from amongst the wrapping paper and packaging material.

"That? That's what has you so excited?" queried Keith in disbelief.

"Hey, this isn't just any old collection of songs! Well, OK, it is an old collection of songs, but this is Sinatra! I had KittyShannon send it to me from Terra," Lance said while walking over to the audio player. "All the babes will fall at my feet," he smirked.

"KittyShannon gave you that? Um, maybe we should test it first before you play it," warned Keith.

"And you think I'm paranoid," said Lance, pushing the diskette in and pressing play. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Lance's question was answered for him when suddenly the four Voltron pilots walked to the center of the room, obviously not of their own accord, and then, as one, turned to face the starmap on the far wall. The music now coming out of the audio player was definitely NOT Sinatra. Three of the pilots exchanged worried glances with each other and angry glares with Lance, but then began to play up to an unseen female audience apparently in the direction of the starmap. Even more mortifying to them, they began to sing along with the music.

(Yet Another Note: I originally had them busting a move to Janet's "All For You" (thus the title), but then I realized that any song of this ilk would do, the more embarrassing the better. So, Reader's Choice -- but keep it clean! Pidge shows up a little later...)

Each pilot in turn attempted to outdo the others in terms of silky tones, sultry looks, flirtatious grins and knowing winks directed at the invisible audience. However, in the back of three pilots' minds, plans were forming for how to punish the fourth pilot. The plans became more excruciatingly detailed as the song wore on. The fourth pilot's mind whirled with excuse after excuse, each more elaborate than the last.

Meanwhile, back on Terra, Lynne was cleaning the house in preparation for company. It was her birthday, after all, and everyone was coming over for shrimp cocktail and cheesecake. She sighed, ~I really hate vacuuming.~ Of course, Mark had pointed out time and again that it would probably go faster if she didn't insist on wearing three-inch spike heels while doing housework, but... ~It's the only thing that relieves the drudgery!~ she thought. Exhausted, she flopped down onto the couch.

~Hey, the VCR's on,~ she observed. She wondered if Autumn had set something up to record. She scrounged around for the remote, and turned on the TV. When the picture came on, she stared for a few moments, and then burst out laughing. The Voltron Force pilots cavorted on screen:

(Reader's Choice lyrics here, plus your fave pilot(s) doing your favorite dance moves. Sorry, their clothes stay on.)

The music faded away, and as it did so, the Volton Force pilots regained control over their actions. Three murderous glares were directed at Lance, who sheepishly ejected the diskette from the audio player. "I guess you were right," he admitted. "Sorry about that."

"Vell, at least ve vere alone," said Sven. "Dat vas too embarrassink for vords!"

"Ditto!" agreed Hunk, still blushing crimson.

Sven continued, "And vat if Romelle had seen dat? I vould be a dead man, makink eyes at some oder voman!"

Lynne hooted with laughter. ~Blackmail material!~ she thought gleefully.

Keith was silent for a moment as his eyes scanned the walls and ceiling. Unfortunately, he found what he was looking for. "Houston, we have a problem," he said grimly, as he strode over to the starmap on the wall. He peeled a corner of it back to expose the tiniest of video cameras.

The last thing Lynne saw was Keith's hand coming towards the camera, and then the picture cut out. ~Darn!~ she thought. She glanced at the VCR. The tape was almost done. ~I'll let it rewind and then see what I missed.~ She went to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.

Keith examined the camera briefly and then passed it off to Lance. "What do you make of this?" he asked.

Lance scrutinized the device. "Based on Alliance technology, but it has some fairly sophisticated modifications I've never seen before," he replied.

"I have," Hunk growled, frowning.

"Doom?" asked Sven. "Is dat vitch behind dis?"

"Worse," said Hunk, pulling his communicator out and seemingly staring at it for a moment before striding towards the door.

"Leave us all in the dark, why don't you," said Lance sarcastically.

Hunk paused in the open doorway and looked at them. "Leave you? Oh, no, I don't think you'd want to miss this," he said cryptically and walked out. The other pilots glanced at each other and followed.

Hunk strode purposefully down the hall, now and again glancing at his communicator. "He's tracking something," Keith guessed. "Or someone," agreed Lance. After several twists and turns down various corridors, they wound up in front of a supply closet.

Keith blushed ever so slightly. This closet had been host to some very private meetings. ~I hope Allura's not in there,~ he prayed.

But the telltale hiccups emanating from the closet were definitely not Princess-like. Hunk tried the lock and then pounded on the door furiously. "Pidge!" he yelled. "I'm giving you two seconds to come out of there, or I'll break the door down!"

Lance's eyes narrowed. "That little brat's behind this?" he demanded.

"I'm not a (hic) brat!" Pidge called out indignantly from behind the door. Then he burst into a fit of giggles punctuated with hiccups. "Boy, did you guys (hic) look stupid!" he howled.

Hunk was ready to tear the door off its hinges when Keith, not wanting his private "debriefing room" destroyed, stopped him. "Pidge? Open this door right now!" he said sternly.

"Um, do I have to?" came the reply. Keith blinked, unused to having his commands questioned. "Yes! That's an order, Mister!" he spluttered. Behind him, Lance cracked his knuckles loudly.

"OK," said Pidge, a little hesitantly. There was a pause, and then they heard the click of the lock being released. Lance lunged for the door and wrenched it open. Pidge took off like a shot but Hunk, anticipating his escape attempt, grabbed Pidge by the scruff of his shirt and held him high in the air. "Going somewhere?" Hunk inquired silkily. Keith crossed his arms over his chest and regarded the dangling Pidge severely. "You are in big trouble, young man."

Lance and Sven charged into the supply closet in an attempt to salvage what remained of their dignity. They rummaged amongst the equipment until Sven exclaimed triumphantly, "I got da tape!" He stepped back out into the hallway. "Well, that's a relief," said Keith, noting the tape. "But," he continued, turning back to Pidge, "you are still in a lot of trouble!"

"Da-- straight he is!" said Lance, coming out of the closet.

There was silence for a moment, and then Sven snickered. Keith tried to keep a straight face and lost it. "What?" demanded Lance. Even Pidge was giggling. Hunk, chuckling, gave him the script. Lance scanned it briefly, and then his eyes widened as realization dawned.

Angrily, Lance crumpled the script and threw it on the floor, uttering curses in as many languages as he knew, and even some he didn't. After a few minutes, Hunk checked his watch. "Can you hurry this up? My arm's getting tired." He was still holding Pidge aloft.

"Yeah, yeah, just a sec," Lance muttered, taking a pen out of his coat pocket. He grabbed the script off the floor and stalked back into the closet. The others stifled their laughter and waited for a few moments. "Well?" said Keith. "Hel-LO? My CUE?" Lance replied sarcastically. "Oh, right," said Keith.

"Well, that's a relief," said Keith, noting the tape. "But," he continued, turning back to Pidge, "you are still in a lot of trouble!"

"YES he is!" said Lance, EXITING the SUPPLY ROOM.

"Ve haff da tape," Sven pointed out.

"The tape is nothing," Lance grimly informed them. "What are you saying?" asked Keith, frowning with concern. "I'm saying," said Lance icily, "that our little fink genius here broadcast that travesty to the entire planet!" He went over to be nose-to-nose with Pidge. "Isn't that right?" he said menacingly.

Pidge swallowed nervously. "Not...not exactly," he confessed. Sven crossed his arms over his chest and inquired, "Vat is 'not exactly'?" Hunk's arm gave out, and he lowered Pidge to the floor, but still kept a tight grip on the youth's shirt collar. By this time Pidge was surrounded by the other pilots, so the chances of escape were slim. "Yeah, explain it to us," he ordered.

Pidge glanced at all of them warily. ~I had no idea they'd get this mad,~ he thought anxiously. "Ve're vaiting," snapped Sven. "Well, if you want to be technically correct, I didn't broadcast it to the entire planet..." Pidge began. "Well, that's good," said Keith, looking relieved. "...I broadcast it to the entire galaxy!" he finished.

"You did WHAT?" shouted Lance, grabbing Pidge by the front of his shirt and hoisting him up to eye level.

"It was the only way I could make sure KittyLynne got it in time for her birthday!" said Pidge frantically. Lance's eyes narrowed as he set Pidge back down. "KittyLynne's birthday?" he asked. Pidge fidgeted nervously with his glasses. "Yeah, nobody else but KittyShannon and KittyCaro knew about it, so the chances that it got picked up or recorded by anyone else are slim to none," he said, while thinking to himself, ~Of course, if they told all their friends, and their friends told their friends, and so on, quite possibly a million people taped it. But they certainly don't need to know that, especially if I want to live long enough to get a driver's license!~

"Well," said Hunk, "if it was for KittyLynne's birthday, I suppose that's all right by me. Just as long as no one else sees it."

"Yeah, I guess that's OK," said Lance. "Ja," agreed Sven, "I yust hope Romelle never sees it!" Keith said, "I'm still going to put you on extra ops duty as punishment. You shouldn't tape us without our consent." They all turned to walk back to the recreation room.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you guys would get that mad," said Pidge. "After all, this was pretty tame compared to what you did for KittyShannon's birthday." They all stopped in their tracks and looked at Pidge in astonishment. "How do you know what went on at KittyShannon's birthday party?" demanded Lance.

Pidge took off as fast as his legs could carry him. "Where do you think KittyLynne and KittyCaro got the video camera?" his voice drifted back to the stunned pilots.

Lynne rewound the tape and pressed play. After a few moments of static, KittyShannon and KittyCaro appeared on screen. "Hi KittyLynne!" they chorused. "Pidge is helping us make a birthday video for you!" Both Kitties burst into a fit of giggles. Then they faded out and were replaced by various members of the HRH Club wishing KittyLynne a Happy Birthday. Lynne realized they must have been recorded at the recent Easter brunch and Cinco de Mayo festivities. She smiled, laughing to herself, ~Usually I don't miss a thing, but they were able to do this completely under my nose!~ From the angle of most of the shots, she guessed Pidge had been the videographer.

Finally Pidge himself came into view. "Hi KittyLynne! Happy Birthday!" he said. He looked around as if to make sure no one was nearby. "OK, I don't know if the next part will work, but if it does, then the guys should be on in a few minutes. Hope you like it!" He winked.

The screen faded and there were a few minutes of static. Then, a view of the recreation room came onscreen. Lynne watched and listened, laughing at poor Lance and the Victoria's Secret innuendo. She took a large sip of coffee.

"And you think I'm paranoid," said Lance, pushing the diskette in and pressing play. "What's the worst that could happen?" In the background, a tiny hamster grinned, waved at the camera, and started doing the HampsterDance.

Lynne choked, spewing coffee everywhere. ~Darn that Cheesy!~

...And everyone lived happily ever after. The End.

;)