He wouldn't have set foot in the room if he'd known that the big guy was in there. Immediately he tensed.

"Oh, hey there," the human said, looking up from… whatever that was. "This cake was supposed to be a surprise, but I guess you can come in…"

Lotor's eyes darted around the room. He'd sooner leave hungry than provoke a human that size.

"What?"

"You know, what do they call it, 'goodwill gesture' type of thing? You do like cake, right?"

Lotor nodded toward the counter.

"Is this thing what you call a 'cake?'"

"Hey, I'm working with what I got, cut me some slack here."

The apparent "cake" was an array of thick concoctions on the table.

"So, what does this 'cake' do?"

The human looked at him askance.

"Nothing, it's a cake. You're just supposed to enjoy it."

Lotor paused.

Then he laughed.

"You're wasting your time and resources on something that is only ENJOYED?"

"Well…" the human hemmed.

"You realize that troops are dying across the universe. CITIZENS."

"Hey, don't pull that on me," the human warned. Lotor resisted the urge to step back. "I'm better at helping them if I'm not a bundle of nerves all the time. And besides, this is for YOU."

"I don't need useless things."

"Well, I'm not making a cake because anyone NEEDS it."

"You fascinate me."

"Here, try the frosting," the human held up a mixing bowl. Lotor stared.

The thought of poison was not lost on him.

"Humans first."

The paladin ate a fingerfull of the substance. Lotor slowly followed suit.

"So, what do you think?" asked the human.

Lotor wrinkled his nose.

"I think your preoccupation with these frivolities is quite likely to run you into trouble."

"Yeah, okay, you're welcome," the human mumbled, deflating into his "cake" project.

Lotor turned and walked out.

When he heard the meeting called to order, he knew the kitchen would be empty.

He checked and entered.

The yellow paladin was out of sight and so, it seemed, was the "cake."

Lotor fixed himself a dish of goo.

He hated their usual dining ritual.

He didn't want to let them FEED him. He didn't want them to feel like his owners.

His fist tightened involuntarily.

There was no such thing as dignity on this ship.

His patrons were obsessed with useless things, and now they had HIM. They had him, they had cake, they had this gratuitous bowl of "frosting" that was still on the counter.

It was an extravagance. They didn't need it.

Lotor snatched it and absconded to his quarters.

It was the best extravagance he had ever known.

He could taste the superfluousness more than the sugar itself.

And it was good.

It tasted like power. Power and a hint of dairy.

It tasted like not being hurt and not needing help and not having anything more pressing to do than create that thing that some cultures called "art."

Who knew that art was such a pleasurable thing?

Who knew there were pleasurable things to be had anymore.

He would savor this. It was all he had.

Perhaps it didn't taste so much like power after all.

He licked off the spot that had gotten on his sleeve.

Blasted paladins.

He knew why they had this. He just didn't want to think about it.

It wasn't just because they had the resources. It was because every so often, they were SAFE. It was the most expensive thing in the whole universe.

He couldn't help but hate them. They hadn't fought nearly as hard for it.

He thought of Narti and shoved a glob of frosting into his mouth.

It was delicious.

She wouldn't have wanted this, but she would have wanted him to be happy.

If the Altean ship was the place where safety lived every now and again, she would have wanted him there.

He wondered how the paladin, Hunk, had made the frosting taste so good.

He decided that he liked sweet things very much.

There was a sound outside the door. Lotor hid the frosting.

It was the blue paladin. He hadn't even knocked.

"Hey Skip, come on out, we need ya," the human said. Then he grinned.

Lotor frowned.

"You're laughing."

The human pointedly rubbed a spot on his face. Lotor put a hand to his own.

Frosting.

He couldn't lick it off in front of a Voltron paladin. Instead he rubbed it wastefully between his fingers.

For shame.

"Also," said the human, "Try to act surprised."

He had no plans to.

"Sorry guys, I don't know what happened to the frosting," the yellow paladin said as he parsed out the cake. It had solidified into a more spongy form by now.

"Must have been the space mice," grinned the blue paladin.

"Please tell me you're not serious," said the small one.

"Of course not. It was obviously Coran."

"You would accuse me of stealing your dairy product?" yelped the old man.

"Yes I would," the blue paladin snickered. "Is that frosting in your mustache?"

"Of all the things–"

"Really, Coran," the princess sighed. "I know how much you like Hunk's cooking, but this reflects rather badly on the team."

"I DON'T EVEN LIKE THIS DAIRY STUFF!"

"Ohhh, so you got rid of it so he couldn't put it on the cake, is that what?" Lance said.

"WHY DOESN'T ANYBODY BELIEVE ME?"

"Hey, it's okay, Coran, I forgive you," said the yellow paladin. "But what's more important is, does LOTOR forgive you?"

Lotor felt all the eyes converge on him.

"Yes," he addressed the old man. "I forgive you."

They all smiled, except Coran.

"You're not so bad, huh?" Hunk said, handing Lotor a piece of cake. "Next time I'll keep a better eye on the frosting."

Lotor accepted the cake and fought the urge to smile back.