The Red Lion pilot was sprawled on one of the couches in the rec room, deeply engrossed in a book. "Hmm? Oh, nothing," he mumbled, an instant before his brain reminded him exactly to whom that voice belonged. He started violently, turned in mid-air, and fell off the couch, landing inelegantly on his backside. "OW!" he glared at the female intruder.

The mysterious woman chuckled mildly, "I thought cats always landed on their feet, Lance. Now," she continued, "since you're not doing anything tonight, then you can do me a little favor, can't you?"

"Did I say that? Uh, what I meant was, something. Yeah, I'm definitely doing something tonight," Lance fibbed while rising to his feet, all the while keeping a wary eye on the woman, who by this time had glided around to his side of the couch, one perfectly arched eyebrow quirked in disbelief.

"Indeed, Lieutenant, and what would that something be?" she purred.

"Um," he swallowed, desperately racking his brain for any excuse. Suddenly, inspiration dawned. "Same thing as every night! Judo practice with Keith!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "Sorry, Lynne, I'd really like to help you out, but you know Keith. Can't miss practice!" Lance smirked.

His smirk faded as he saw the glint of amusement in her eyes. "Funny," she mused, "I just saw the Captain and the Princess deeply engrossed in -- conversation. I think your practice has been cancelled." A huge grin spread across her lovely face.

"Riiight," Lance drawled, stalling for time. "Yes, yes, now that you mention it," the words tumbled out in a rush, "Keith did cancel practice tonight because...uh...because...because I spilled coffee all over the kitchen this morning so Keith put me on KP! I have to scrub the entire kitchen for Nanny before morning. Yup. Can't help you." Drops of sweat were starting to dot his brow.

"Really?" Lynne idly twirled a lock of hair around her slender forefinger. "I just came from the kitchen, and it's immaculate. Now," she said sharply, pinning him with a piercing look, "I don't call this being very cooperative, do you?" Her gaze softened as she saw the haunted look in his eyes, somewhat reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights.

Lance noted her momentary weakness and went for broke. Dropping to his knees before her, he begged, "Oh please, Mistress, don't make me do it! I hate those top ten countdowns!" He kissed her feet and then put on his best puppy-dog eyes, gazing up at her beseechingly.

Lynne sighed. She was torn. On the one hand, she did feel sorry for him, especially when he was being so humbled, but on the other hand, it was -- fun -- to put Lance into these predicaments in the first place. She sighed again, more deeply this time. There was, of course, Shannon to consider. Lady Shannon would not be pleased if her quarry were not to appear this evening. Lynne steeled herself. What must be, must be.

"No dice, Lion Boy," she said.

Storm clouds of anger rolled across Lance's face as he shot to his feet. His eyes flashed fire as he spat out, "I have HAD it with you two! I don't care what you do to me, but I am NOT doing another one of those blasted top ten lists! FORGET IT!"

"Now, let's not be hasty," Lynne admonished gently, drumming her fastidiously manicured fingernails softly against the back of the framed picture she cradled against her body.

"OOOOHHHHH! Shannon's compromising picture!" Lance sneered. "I'm so scared! You know what? Do whatever you want with that. I have nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Oh?" she said, turning the picture towards him for his inspection.

He was speechless for about thirty seconds. "THAT," he spluttered, stabbing a blunt forefinger in the general direction of the photo, "HAS BEEN DIGITALLY ALTERED!"

"Can you prove it?" Lynne smiled brightly. ~Shannon is good.~

Lance sank down onto the couch, put his face in his hands, and whimpered pitifully. At that moment, the young pilot of Green Lion strode purposefully into the room, calling back over his shoulder, "I left the chess set in here, Big Guy! Just gimme a sec!"

Sensing salvation, Lance clambered over the back of the couch, exclaiming, "Pidge! Boy Genius! Buddy! Pal!" He practically took a nose-dive onto the floor in his haste to scale the couch and reach the puzzled boy.

"Hey Lance, what's up?" Pidge inquired, eyes drifting to the beautiful stranger.

"Come here," Lance ordered raggedly. "I want you to look at something and tell me if you can prove..." His words were cut off by the young pilot's sudden fit of uproarious laughter as Pidge's gaze finally came to rest on the object Lance had indicated, which Lynne helpfully presented for the youth's inspection.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" By this time Hunk, pilot of Yellow Lion, had wandered into the rec room to see if Pidge had gotten sidetracked, as usual. Pidge, still laughing uncontrollably, had removed his glasses and was dabbing at his eyes with his lucky bandanna. Lance, Hunk observed, looked furious. And who was this delightful woman with the radiant smile? "Lance, introduce us to your lady friend."

"Her name is Lynne," Lance forced out through gritted teeth.

"Hunk, at your service," the gentle giant boomed, and gave a slight bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you, milady." He then noticed the picture Lynne was holding and stepped forward for a closer look. His eyebrows knitted in consternation and then shot up to his hairline. "Guess we should have been calling you Little Buddy all this time," he chuckled to Lance in an undertone as he slapped the unfortunate pilot on the back. "Shut up," Lance muttered, fuming and flushing scarlet.

Hunk next turned his attention to the Green Lion pilot who had laughed himself into a severe case of hiccups. "Come on, pal, Hunk has just the cure," he assured the boy whilst herding him out of the room and off to the kitchen. The voice of the suddenly sobered Pidge could be heard faintly down the hall, "But if I (hic) hiccup while I (hic) drink cola it will (hic) come out my (hic) nose! That'll (hic) hurt!"

"Now, where were we?"

Lynne's inquiry was met with stony silence as the wiry pilot gave her a murderous glare, shoved his hands in his pockets, and sulked.

She exhaled slowly. ~Out of all of them, he can be the most exasperating!~ she thought. ~And yet, the most exciting...~ Lynne sighed dreamily, momentarily lost in her thoughts and oblivious to the suspicious gaze of Lance. He edged towards the door.

Sadly for him, his escape was thwarted by a sudden outburst of giggles emanating from the hallway. "Come on Keith, everyone's gone and we can be alone!" The Princess and Keith stumbled through the door, tripping over each other in their rush to find a private sanctuary away from prying eyes. They were brought up short at the unexpected presence of Lance and an unknown woman.

Lance, Lynne noted with amusement, had immediately pasted on a smile and stepped in front of her to block the accursed picture from view, while the Princess and the Captain were doing their best to appear nonchalant, as if they burst into the rec room breathlessly with unruly hair and rumpled clothing every day of their lives.

"Good evening, Captain," she said with a smile. "It's been a long time."

Lance paled as some unreadable emotion flickered briefly through his leader's eyes and vanished as quickly as it had appeared. ~Shit,~ he thought, ~they know each other?!~ He got the sinking feeling that Lynne had an ace up her sleeve and foresaw his own evening going up in flames.

"Good evening, Lynne," Keith said evenly, acutely aware that the sapphire blue orbs of the Princess were darting suspiciously between the two of them. "It's so nice to see you again. I take it you've met Lance?" he asked, to divert attention from himself.

"Why yes I have, and it's been such a pleasure!" Lynne then went in for the kill. "You wouldn't mind if I borrowed him this evening, would you Captain?" she asked, arching an eyebrow meaningfully.

Keith ignored Lance's pleading gaze, but before he could give an answer, he was interrupted by the Princess exclaiming, "It didn't look that small at the Olympic Stadium!" Allura glanced up to meet Lance's shocked countenance and, blushing furiously, slapped her hand over her mouth, realizing she must have spoken aloud. Keith stepped forward to investigate, hands clenching into fists as he then turned towards Lance. Mercifully, Lance fainted dead away.

"Oh dear!" said Allura.

"Oh Keith," said Lynne, ignoring Allura's frown as she used Keith's given name instead of his title, "Lance was going to help me with a project in the ballroom this evening. Would you make sure he gets there?"

"Sure thing," said Keith as he hoisted Lance onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry. "Anything else?"

"Mmmm, some cheesecake would be nice."

"You got it," Keith confirmed as he strode out of the room, the unconscious Lance draped over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

A puzzled Allura's frown grew deeper. "Shouldn't he have tried to revive Lance first? And what project is going on in the ballroom? Who are you anyway?"

Giggling slightly, Lynne confided, "Lance isn't exactly a willing volunteer... I'm one of the hostesses of a live talk show being broadcast from the castle ballroom this evening. Didn't you know about it?"

Allura shrugged, "It's a big castle. I lose track." Taking the picture from Lynne, she eyed it critically. "I could have sworn it looked bigger."

"It's digitally altered," Lynne confessed. "It was our blackmail in case Lance didn't want to cooperate. He actually has a quite a fan club, so he's important to the show even though he hates it."

Allura realized she was staring at the photo and turned it face down, blushing mildly. "Um," she asked in an undertone, "how did you get him to pose for it?"

"Ah," said Lynne, grinning wickedly, "I'm sworn to secrecy!"