Lance Alone

Epilogue (Shiro)

A waitress wove through the crowded tables with a plate of drinks. She paused at one table, where a man sat alone. He wore sunglasses over his face, even though the bar was dark and smoky.

"Care for a drink, sir?" she asked, but the man waved him away.

"My set will be starting soon. But thank you," he said, and pulled out his saxophone case from under the table. It was a beautiful instrument, and playing it filled the void he felt in his life for almost two years now. But before he could stand up, a woman slid into the chair across from him.

"It's about time this little "experiment" of yours ended," she said, although her hood obscured her face. It reminded him of that awful witch Hagar, but things like that were behind him now. He was a new man. "The universe needs you again."

"The only thing I have to give this universe is jazz," he laughed.

"You know that's not true." She leaned forward. "I know you thought you were doing the right thing, letting Keith grow as a leader--but they're only tearing themselves apart."

"Keith doesn't actually listen to me until his skills are challenged. I'm giving him the chance to learn from his mistakes for a little bit, so when I do come back, he'll be better than ever."

"How long are you going to wait, then? They need you. They look up to you. You still have a lot to give the fight."

His smile faded, and he clenched his fist--the robotic one--to remind her exactly what the universe had already taken from him. "My set's up. Talk to you later."

Allura leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. Shiro stood up from the seat and took the saxophone case with him. He just wished Allura would understand--when the Black Lion brought him here, things didn't make sense. Why would it send him from the middle of a battle to a jazz club in New Orleans? But then he realized that this was his destiny, his duty, his calling in life. A life of war was only suffering, and he used to think that was what he needed to be happy. But he was wrong. There was a different kind of suffering--the suffering only an artist understood. The paladins would learn to grow less dependent on him while he enjoyed a nice long vacation.

"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for our star act. The one you've all been waiting for!" the crowd greeted him with warm applause. Shiro pulled his saxophone out of his case and threw the strap over his shoulder.

"This one's for all you lovers out there," he said, "who know if you love something, you've got to let it go."

He started to play a smooth, luscious tune. Across the bar, in the corner, Lance and Keith interlaced fingers as they sat on the same side of the table.

"Is it just me, or does that saxophone player look familiar?" Keith asked. Lance took a better look at him.

"Nope. I've never seen him before in my life," he popped an olive in his mouth.

***

What's a better way to end fanfiction than with Shiro playing saxophone at a jazz club somewhere in the depths of the universe? (for you parks and rec fans, he's pretty much Duke Silver). Consider this chapter my gift to you, as a thank you for coming this far. I wasted far too much of my life writing this sorry, and I appreciate you wasting your life to read it. I love your comments, votes, and support and they make me feel a little less guilty for living in Voltron hell. It's about time I got to work on other projects, so this is the end of Lance Alone for the foreseeable future. Again, thanks for reading and enjoying this story.