A Touch of Diplomacy

By Cheezey

Rated MA

Heading through the corridors of Castle Doom after giving a status report to his admiral, the Doom soldier known to his men as Cossack the Terrible paused in his stride upon hearing an agitated female voice dismissing a robot guard from her presence. A moment later the guard emerged from a nearby chamber that had another sentry posted outside, with whom it exchanged a look before it shrugged and walked away.

Straightening his helmet, the standard issue style appropriate to his current rank as opposed to the tri-horned one he would later be known for wearing once he would eventually attain the rank of fleet commander, Cossack approached the robot. “Guard! What’s going on?” he demanded in an authoritative tone.

The robot saluted him and replied, “I am guarding Princess Corral until her return flight to Demos later this evening, Force Captain.”

“Princess Corral, huh?” Cossack peered at the closed door, his curiosity roused. He had heard about the visiting Demosian royal, betrothed to Prince Lotor at the arrangement of King Zarkon and presumably, her family. The word through the castle grapevine was that Lotor had rudely rejected the notion of marrying Corral, and had rejected her rather personally as well. Rumor also had it that said snub would likely spawn a big political ruckus between Doom and Demos, and King Zarkon was far from pleased about it. Although it was common knowledge that Prince Lotor wanted the princess of Arus more so than any other woman, or at least one that physically resembled her in the right lighting, Cossack had heard that Princess Corral was supposedly quite attractive and it came as a surprise to him, and everyone else on Doom, when the prince flatly refused the marriage.

“So why’s the princess ticked off at your pal, the one who just left?” he asked the robot.

“He was assigned to bring her a meal, but she did not want to be bothered,” the sentry explained. “She has been difficult with all of us, Sir. We just follow orders.”

“Yeah.” Cossack put his hand on the door. Knowing how quirky the robots could be, he wondered if they would come off as off-putting to a foreign type, and if he should stop in and make sure everything was all right with the visiting princess. After all, it was already bad enough that the prince had offended her; it wouldn’t do to leave her with a poor impression of Doom as a whole, would it? Besides, Cossack was curious to find out if Corral really was as hot as some of his soldiers had claimed. He had not seen her himself, and he certainly would not complain about the chance to check out a pretty princess on duty.

“Stand by out here,” Cossack told the guard, and knocked twice on the door before pulling it open a bit and peeking in. “Princess Corral?”

“Come,” a high-pitched, exasperated voice answered in a strained tone, as if she had trouble speaking the language.

Cossack straightened to a proud and what he considered impressive posture and strode into the chamber, shutting the door behind him. The sight that greeted his eyes when he entered and saw the princess for the first time did not disappoint. The princess of Demos was not merely pretty; she was flat out gorgeous, with flawless peach-toned skin complemented by luxuriant waves of red hair held in place by a gleaming green snake crown positioned just above her seductive brown eyes. He imagined that her smile, hidden behind a translucent veil of shimmering white material, was just as beautiful. And that was just her face! Her body was even more delicious, clad in an alluring outfit that clung to and cut out tantalizingly over her ample cleavage, slim torso, and curvy hips, and ended elegantly in a flowing crimson skirt.

Prince Lotor turned this down? If I didn’t know he was interested in that Arusian chick I’d say for sure he had to be gay, Cossack thought incredulously, and had the thought that he sure would not mind making the prince’s loss his gain. Sure, Cossack himself was no prince, but then again it was not some high society marriage he was interested in anyway. Just a chance to get horizontal with that sexy princess would suit him just fine!

After forgetting himself for a moment in his distraction, Cossack then summoned his most charming smile, removed his helmet, and bowed to her in a flourish. “Princess Corral, Force Captain Cossack the Terrible here to check in on you,” he said, and then stood up straight again. “I, uh, heard that you were displeased, so I’m here to make it better. On behalf of Doom!” he added with dramatic haste.

A puzzled look replaced the sullen one that had been on Corral’s features when he came in. “Cos-sack ‘the Ter-rible’?”

With a proud smile he replied, “Yup! That’s a title my men gave me. Kind of officially unofficial.” He took a step closer. “So, er, you all right? You seemed pretty pissed at that robot. What happened?”

“Said didn’t want it,” she answered haughtily, clearly struggling with the native Doom tongue. “But bring food.” She sighed. “Just want... go home.”

Fortunately her broken language was clear enough for Cossack to understand, and he offered her a reassuring look in response. “Hey, I understand. Those tin-heads can be clueless sometimes. But don’t worry, your ship’s scheduled to take off in a few hours, I promise. Saw it on the schedule myself. They’re just fueling up and doing a maintenance check and all that, so your trip back is all set.” His smile broadened and he eyed her with a friendly, if not flirtatious look. “So if there’s anything we can do in the meantime—”

Anger flashed through Corral’s brown eyes. “Lotor do… enough! Only wanted…” Her voice trailed off, and she turned around, trying to force back emotional tears. “Was to marry prince.”

“Ah, yeah,” Cossack said in a sympathetic tone. “I heard about that.”

“Treated me slave,” she continued, her eyes downcast while a humiliated flush crept to her cheeks. “Just wanted help him.” She turned and looked back at Cossack again. “I princess! Better than that!”

Cossack meanwhile quickly snapped his focus back up to her face and off of her luscious curves as she faced him again. “Sure,” he agreed hastily. “Any man would be lucky to have you. You’re hot! I don’t know what Prince Lotor was thinking there.” He then offered her another smile and inwardly congratulated himself on his charm.

The language barrier left Corral confused again, however, and she regarded him dubiously. “‘Hot?’”

“Yeah. You know, sexy.” Cossack emphasized the explanation with a hand gesture and a leer, blissfully ignorant to the fact that many princesses would find such an explanation far from charming.

When Corral caught the gist of what he meant, she regarded him with an odd look, although it was not clear if she was offended or not. “Ah, em, attri—attractive?”

Pleased to see that she understood him, Cossack nodded vigorously. “You got it! Not just attractive... beautiful!” He wondered briefly if that was laying it on too thick, but he decided that women generally liked hearing how pretty they were, and even if she was from a different culture, odds were that Corral was no different, especially after a blow to the ego like Lotor had just given her.

His instincts were correct. Although she still wore her veil, it was evident that she began to smile by the way her eyes lit up. Despite its crude delivery, or perhaps only because her grasp of the language was not yet perfect, she found Cossack’s remark quite flattering. “Thank you, Cap-captain Ter-ri-bull.”

Encouraged by her reaction, Cossack bowed to Corral again with a melodramatic flourish. “No problem, your highness! But, uh,” he stood up again and added somewhat sheepishly, “actually it’s force captain and it’s ‘the Terrible’ but you know what, it’d probably be easier if you just call me Cossack. That ok?”

“Cos-sack,” Corral repeated with a pleasant lilt in her high-pitched warbling voice.

“That’s it!” he said, and put his arm around her shoulders. “So, since you had such a lousy time here on Doom so far, how about I make it up to you before you leave? Doom’s a pretty fun place. We got excitement with killer beasts in the arena, we got great music ‘cause both the royalty and a lot of the nobility are into that artsy stuff, some of the best gourmet food in the galaxy with some of the chefs we’ve got as our slaves, oh and the wine? You can’t leave Doom without trying the wine.”

At the mention of wine the princess’ earlier pout returned, and although he could not see it through the veil, Cossack could tell he had somehow put his foot in his mouth by the sudden darkening of her expression and the way she stiffened under his wanting-to-be-more-than-friendly touch. “Had wine,” Corral said sullenly, and held up her cape to show a maroon stain on it. “Throw at me.”

Cossack winced. Oooh, there went some charm points down the drain. “Uh, well, most of us prefer to take it internally and not throw it around. Kinda expensive, you know?” When Corral only looked back at him blankly, he flashed a sheepish smile in the hopes of salvaging the situation and elaborated, complete with a gesture mimicking the motion. “It’s better when you drink it.”

Although some of her ire evaporated, she still eyed him warily. That did not dissuade Cossack, however. “I could get you some,” he offered. “I promise I won’t toss it at you. I’ll even whip the shit out of any robots that come by to annoy you!” He then stepped back, whipped out his electrolash, and struck what he considered an imposing and dangerous pose.

At that the princess could not help but giggle, and Cossack took that as proof positive that his manly charm was working as intended. “Great!” he said enthusiastically. “I’ll have those tin-headed bozos send us some booze A.S.A.P.! The ride back’ll probably be better hammered anyway; you’ll sleep through that meteor shower in the emerald quadrant.” Without waiting for an answer Cossack then poked his head out the door and ordered the robot on duty to send up the best wine available and have it billed to his military account. Though it briefly occurred to him that the weenie admiral he reported to would probably reject the purchase order, he figured the chance to get cozy with a hot princess was a rare enough opportunity that it was worth the risk.

Once that was taken care of, Cossack turned around and saw that Corral had relocated to the cushy velour couch in the private sitting room. She patted the empty cushion beside her, indicating for him to join her side. He wasted no time in doing so.

“Nice digs you princesses get here,” Cossack remarked as he sat down. “Must be nice to have those perks.”

“Not,” she paused as she searched for the right phrasing in Doom’s tongue, “boring alone.”

Cossack gave a sympathetic nod. “Yeah. Even the cushiest rooms could get dull I guess, especially if there’s not an arena fight on or anything, and those robots aren’t exactly prime social company, unless you’re a tech geek or something,” he babbled as he stretched out, positioning himself such that his arm just happened to fall across her shoulders in a near-cuddling position. “But a cute princess like you,” he said, leaning in a way that made it obvious his position beside her was hardly coincidental, “probably wouldn’t want to hang around that type. You probably dig strong, charming, manly guys…”

Laying a hand on his arm, Corral said with a distinctly sultry note in her high-pitched voice, “Shame you not prince.”

That inspired a satisfied and smug smile to spread across Cossack’s lips. “Oh yeah,” he said in a breathless moment of honesty, and closed his hand over hers. He discovered that her skin was indeed as soft to the touch as it appeared, and he savored the sensation of it against his comparatively rough fingertips. “I am a noble though,” he murmured as he leaned closer, “Not sure if that counts for your standards, but I won’t tell if you don’t—”

His distracted ramble was cut off when a robot servant came into the room carrying the wine he had ordered earlier. “Your wine, Sir,” it announced in a proud and snooty robotic monotone.

“Wow does your timing suck, tin-head,” Cossack stated flatly, and cursed the utter shattering of the moment with the Demosian princess. “Just put it down and get out of here. And hang a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door while you’re at it, got it?”

“Yes Force Captain.” The robot set the tray down and departed as bidden, and Cossack reached to pour the first goblet hoping that he could salvage the mood.

When he turned back toward Corral to give her the drink, he saw that she had taken off her veil. Just as he had imagined, the luscious lips that had previously been hidden beneath it were every bit as lovely as the rest of her. “You shouldn’t hide that pretty face,” he said with an appreciative look as he handed it to her. “Now the old witch on the other hand, maybe we could give her one of those...”

After taking the golden vessel into her dainty fingers, Corral took a sip while Cossack poured himself a goblet full. “It’s a lot better that way, huh?” he teased, and then took a swig of his own. “I think so too.”

“Good,” she agreed, and then fixed her brown eyes upon him with interest. “You… noble?”

Cossack nodded. “Yup. One hundred percent Doom blue-blood. All of us high ranking honchos in the military are. Can’t afford to let slaves or the common types get too ambitious with our weapons. I mean, sometimes you get someone with a lot of skill from the common area, but you gotta earn that kind of trust, and King Zarkon’s no fool about stuff like that.”

Corral’s lips curled into a seductive smile. Although she did not understand and was not particularly interested in most of Cossack’s rambling, it was clear that she found the confirmation of his better-than-common background favorable enough to indulge his romantic overtures, which were not nearly as subtle as he thought them to be even over the Doom-Demos language barrier. “You… nice company,” she said sweetly, and leaned closer, placing her hand on his bicep as she had before. “Strong.”

Once it was clear that she was not only receptive to his flirting but actively returning it, Cossack could not help but grin like a horny fool. “You too, I mean, nice, not strong,” he amended in a distracted rush, “not that you’re not a take-no-guff type like any respectable princess and you’re in good shape—oh wow what shape! I mean, ah—”

“Kiss,” Corral said in an insistent whisper that in her unique voice came out almost as a hiss.

Cossack did not argue with that royal order, and pressed his lips to hers in a steamy smooch. Her soft lips yielded to him like melting butter upon fresh baked bread, and tasted every bit as good. He nearly lost himself in the thrill of that lusty moment when his grip on the wine goblet still in his hand slipped…

Clang!

The sudden noise and the unpleasant sensation of a splash jolted them both out of the moment, and even though Cossack took the worst of it, a generous slosh of the dark fluid spattered up onto Corral’s arm. Oh man! Cossack groaned inwardly. This chick is going to think all the men on Doom like their dates dunked in wine! His fears were nearly realized when an irritated look flashed across her features, so he took quick action to try and salvage the situation.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized hastily and took her hand in his. “You were just,” he looked into her pretty brown eyes as the perfect save came to him, “so beautiful that I couldn’t control myself.” He finished with what he considered an appropriately contrite but irresistibly sexy smile.

When Corral began to giggle a moment later, Cossack took that as a sign that his manly charm had saved the day and would soon secure him another victory. “Doesn’t look like it got you too bad,” he said, smoothing his hand along the wine-splashed arm. “Your clothes are ok. Just this little mess, and I can fix that.” In what he felt was a brilliant move of suave romance, he dipped his head down and kissed the stained skin, catching the droplets that clung to it with his lips until it was as if the incident had never happened. She smiled back at him coyly, and Cossack congratulated himself on a job well done. Another flawless seduction by the master, Cossack the Terrible!

“You clothes… runed,” Corral said, and slid her hand along his thigh, which had taken the brunt of the splash.

“Runed?” he blinked.

“Dirty. Wine.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, realizing what she meant only then through the heavy distraction of her delicate fingers fondling his thigh and inching upward. “It’s part of the job as a powerful and respected military force captain in Doom’s mighty army, you know, saving pretty princesses from peril and all that,” he said, and then eyed her with renewed lust. “But, if it offends you, I could take it off…”

Corral batted her eyelashes at him and blushed in a way that might have passed for demure if her interest in him had not already been established. “Take off, hmm?”

Cossack grinned. Oh yeah, the princess wanted him! This was a red letter day for Cossack the Terrible as much as any battle victory, he decided! He was going to conquer Demos his own special way! Licking his lips, Cossack said, “If you insist, baby, but I might need you to keep me warm.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Maybe you keep me warm,” Corral hinted, and slithered her hands along his chest in a suggestive manner.

“That could be arranged.” He pulled her into his arms and another impassioned kiss, which she returned energetically. Corral circled one arm around his neck so that they settled into a more natural position upon the couch, and Cossack in turn slid his hand around her slender waist, eager to explore all of those delicious curves that had so tantalized him from the second he had laid eyes on her in that skimpy outfit.

“Oh yeah, any guy that’d turn you down is nuts,” he declared with shortened breath and a quickened pulse when their kiss ended. His hands inched downward…

“‘Nuts?’” Corral repeated with a quizzical look, moving subtly in response to his touch and driving him wild with desire.

“Er, yeah. Means crazy. ‘Nuts’ has a few meanings in our language.” And I love the way you’re rubbing against one of them right now, by the gods, Cossack thought distractedly as he closed his eyes.

“Food,” she said, and kissed the underside of his chin.

I wouldn’t mind letting you taste mine, his dirty mind echoed in response. What he said aloud, however, was, “Yeah, that’s one of ‘em.” He looked downward and was treated to an unparalleled view of her exposed cleavage, which from above was just a shade away from indecent. “I could show you the other,” he added with heavy breath, that time unable to keep his naughty thoughts to himself.

Fortunately for Cossack, the Demosian princess did not comprehend just how vulgar her would-be consort had been, otherwise their interlude might well have ended before it really began. “No want food,” Corral said insistently, and kissed his lips in a feather-light tease as she traced the contours of his chest muscles with her fingers. “Want why came to Doom for.”

“Don’t know if I can give you that, baby, not being a prince and all, but—but—oh wow you have a nice butt…” His words became thoroughly distracted as she shifted again, granting him a nice handful of that royal tush for him to gratuitously squeeze.

“No need prince,” Corral corrected him in as sharp a tone as he imagined her high voice could muster. “Love good,” she then said more softly, and pressed her body against his. “Good enough now… want love.”

Whether Corral meant the emotion or the more carnal meaning of the word did not particularly matter to Cossack, whose eyes burned with unquenched desire as they met Corral’s, alive with similar intent. “If that’s what you want, I’ll give you the full royal treatment of Doom lovin’, baby,” Cossack promised, shamelessly fondling the soft and luscious curves of her backside.

Corral inhaled sharply at Cossack’s pleasant touch and reached to unfasten his clothing. “Yes,” the princess stated in a breathy moan. “Love me now.”

“You got it.” He kissed her again, that time even more ardently, and worked to divest her of her clothing. The cape and crown were shed quickly, and she just as swiftly discarded his helmet and unfastened the jacket of his soldier’s uniform, which he wriggled out of quite eagerly. Soon he was down to all but his pants, but Corral’s outfit posed a greater obstacle than he anticipated with its complex design. The holes were wonderful for groping, but much to Cossack’s irritation he could not find a single release or catch. Eventually he had to concede defeat.

“So, ah,” he said distractedly, tugging at the shoulder while she planted a series of kisses over his now bare chest and neck, “how the hell does this thing come off?”

She giggled. “Need help, hmm?”

“Kinda.” Although he enjoyed the way she wiggled when she tittered, he was sure he would enjoy it more if she had no clothes on.

A coy smile spread across her face, and she slid backwards out of his grasp. Although he immediately missed her presence in his lap, he could not complain about the view, especially the provocative way she bent and then lifted the edge of her skirt and slithered out of her outfit, leaving her clad in nothing but shoes and a skimpy undergarment that only covered her most intimate parts. The breasts that had teased him so bounced delightfully into full view, and what a view it was, especially covered with that come-hither look on her face.

Cossack had to swallow to avoid drooling at that point, and his pants, by the entire Doom pantheon, they felt like they were going to burst they had become so tight. A moment later, when Corral bent and slid down that last remaining garment showing her nude body to him in its full glory, he was on his feet nearly tearing his pants off in his rush to join her. The second they hit the floor, Corral was in his arms again, pressing her naked body against his. “Wow,” he breathed in an honest, even if not terribly suave moment as he savored the skin-to-skin contact. Although Cossack’s ego was such that he considered his ability to get a hot chick in the sack a given, in general said hot chicks were not royal princesses of Corral’s station and class.

She kissed his lips playfully and curled her fingers around his erection, caressing its rigid length with admiration. “Virile noble man,” she purred with clear desire.

With one arm around her and his free hand cupping and fondling one of her breasts, Cossack inhaled the soft perfumed scent that clung to her red hair and indulged in a quirky smile. “Virile noble man” was not something a girl had ever called him in the sack before, but he supposed there were worse things to be called, like “arrogant pervert,” which had been a favorite term of endearment from his ex-girlfriend, or the ever-unflattering, “third-best I ever had,” one that still chafed him to that very day. “I’m even more virile on the couch,” he informed her glibly, and then led her in the direction of the cozy velour divan that was about to become a loveseat in the literal sense.

Pliant and willing, Corral settled into the cushions with Cossack, and their passion escalated as their bodies tangled together in that intimate pose. Cossack was surprised to discover why Corral had such an oddly high voice, that being that her tongue apparently had stretching capabilities that the ones of Doomites did not. She curled around him and kissed his neck seemingly in one spot while her tongue would lick inches away with her moving only slightly, and he giggled in a distinctly non-macho way when her tongue darted into his ear as she nibbled on the tip. As she moved further on toward the back of his neck, he bent his head down and took her erect nipple into her mouth, gently squeezing and fondling the breast it sat upon as he did so.

Corral moaned with obvious pleasure as he began to suck, and continued to kiss Cossack in a sensual, random pattern whilst stroking his manhood. “Want…” she panted, and then finished her sentence in a language that he could not understand but seemed to indicate he should keep doing what he was doing.

Releasing her breast he grinned at her in a way that traversed any linguistic obstacles with its meaning. “You like that, huh? How about this?” He slid his hand between her thighs and touched her soft folds, at first only in a gentle rub that acquainted him with their contours and let him know that Demosian girls, like most other female Denubian and Drule humanoids, showed arousal in a similar way. “I think so,” he said in a teasing voice while he explored more of that slick wetness and enjoyed both the sensation of touching her so intimately and the look of pleasure on her face.

She writhed in obvious desire against his exploring fingertips and rubbed his arousal against her bare skin, eliciting sensations of delight that sent shivers down his spine. He in turn slid his finger into her, superficially at first in an almost teasing manner, and when it was clear that she craved more, he penetrated her more deeply, emulating the motion he hoped to partake in before much longer.

In fact, as Corral let out another moan and clutched at his unruly hair, Cossack did not want to wait at all, and if the way she ground her hips against his forearm and her body in general against his was any indication, neither could she. She said something that sounded like it was intended to have been in his native tongue, but too broken by her lust and distraction to understand. The look in her eyes, however, made its meaning clear, and Cossack was all too happy to oblige.

“I want you too, baby,” he said smugly, and licked the soft spot where her neck met her shoulder with impatient lust while he teased her pleasure center farther south.

“Want you,” Corral panted back. “In me. Now.” Her voice ended with a commanding squeak.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Withdrawing his hand from between her legs, Cossack repositioned himself and straddled her, grinning. He savored the view of the beautiful princess of Demos panting in shameless erotic desire beneath him, breasts heaving with every breath and body trembling with a lustful hunger that only the hot love of Cossack the Terrible could sate. His patience lasted all of six milliseconds before he thrust into her. He closed his eyes and exhaled with unashamed pleasure as her slick warmth enveloped him, followed by the pleasant sensation of her legs and arms drawing him as close to her as possible as he began to thrust.

Corral felt every bit as good as Cossack imagined she would, soft and pliant even as she bucked against him. The way she moved both for her own pleasure and his made it clear that she was experienced in the ways of carnal pleasure, but that did not bother Cossack at all. He for one found the stereotype that all princesses were demure virgins until their wedding to a prince of suitable station to be laughable, for in their corner of the galaxy the only things that kept individuals virgins much past the onset of adulthood were greed, repugnance in appearance or company, or just being a prissy prude. He was glad none of those things applied to the lovely Corral, who in that moment of sexual thrill made him feel like royalty.

Her brown eyes locked with his yellow ones as they continued to move in tandem, each shamelessly indulging in the pleasures offered by the other’s body and willingly allowing the other to use their own as desired. Corral’s fingertips flexed against the strong muscles of his back, while he rammed into her with increasing fervor. His male pride swelled when she broke that intense gaze first, throwing her head back and closing her eyes to surrender to the pleasure that consumed her senses. Corral’s movements became more frenzied and urgent, her hips grinding against his and letting out little squeaks of ecstasy as she neared her peak. Although Cossack did not know if Demosian women orgasmed the same way as Doom women and slaves he had been with, it was apparent that whatever was happening she was enjoying more with each passing moment.

Soon the ego satisfaction of that combined with the physical sensations of the act brought Cossack to his threshold, and his own body released in a spectacular burst of ecstasy. It occurred to him as he spilled his seed in the pretty princess that heaved so delightfully beneath him that perhaps he should have thought of protection, but he supposed that Corral must know what she was doing, and she showed no sign of objecting even as it became apparent that their sexual interlude had reached its climax, at least on his end.

Beneath him Corral was still squealing and gasping, and Cossack remained inside her for some time until she calmed down, caught her breath, and smiled up at him. It was not like Cossack was in any particular rush to slow her down, and a hot writhing body made it easy to keep him hard enough to carry out that task even after an orgasm in such a situation. He grinned down at her so widely that his fangs showed. “Looks like you had fun,” he remarked with a pleased chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a chick come so long.”

Cheeks flushed both from the physical activity and coyness, she looked up at him with a mildly confused look. “Fun, yes,” she confirmed, but then added quizzically, “come long?”

“Y’know, orgasm. Lettin’ go. Climax. Blowing a load… er, well girls don’t really do that but you know what I mean. Pleasure. The reason most of us like to get it on,” Cossack said, doing his best to explain it to her, and then added with a leer, “And you sure seemed to do it a while.”

“Oh,” Corral replied, giggling once she got the gist of what he meant. “On Demos… takes long. Not like some.” She waved a delicate hand dismissively. “So short. Sad for them.”

Cossack could not help but laugh. “No wonder you’re so good at it. I’d be trying to get some all the time if I could go like that,” he admitted. “Ah well actually I probably wouldn’t be too much different, but ah, anyway.” He cleared his throat and glanced at the timepiece. Regretfully, more time had passed than it had seemed like, and it would not be long before someone would show up to take Corral to her homebound ship, and that was something he could not dismiss even if the robots had listened to him and put a “do not disturb” sign on the door. That and he was still technically on duty. He did not particularly want to explain the situation to a superior, that was for sure.

He sighed and met her gaze, that time more seriously. “It’s almost time for you to head home. I ought to let you get ready,” he said, and sat up on the couch. She straightened to a sitting position beside him with an equally dismayed look on her face.

“Pleasure knowing you,” Corral said softly and sincerely, and touched the side of his face.

Cossack chortled and smiled back at her. “Yeah. A real pleasure.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her for effect, and then kissed her hand. “Have a safe trip back, Princess.” He stood and climbed into his pants. “And if you’re ever on Doom again, look me up.” He struck a proud pose in his half naked state. “Force Captain Cossack the Terrible.”

Corral gathered her discarded clothes in her hands and stood next to him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him softly on the lips. “Force Captain Terrible,” she repeated, and smiled. “Cossack.”

“Yeah,” he said, not bothering to correct her that time, and simply smiling back at her instead. “Catch you later, Corral.” Replacing his helmet on a slightly frizzier hairdo than he’d had when he first came in, he winked, gave her a flirtatious wave, and departed, leaving Corral alone and with a royal smile befitting that of a princess.

The End

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