by Mike Smith
With that realisation for the first time in many days, Jon allowed his posture and body to relax and he found himself returning the smile. Deciding that she was not the only one allowed to enjoy herself, the next jab, that had ever so slightly too much weight behind, he caught her wrist and spun her around, sliding her body into his chest, regretting once again that he had decided to wear a shirt, as he enjoyed the feel of her against his bare chest.
Twisting her head around to meet his gaze, eyes sparking she exclaimed, “You never taught me that move!”
Jon just laughed and replied. “I cannot give away all my secrets now can I?”
However, it was obvious that Sofia was not beyond improvising a little herself, as, while Jon’s attention was once again solely on her face, she jabbed a sharp elbow into his chest. Not enough to hurt, but enough for him to loosen his grip on her, enough for her to slide out of his grasp. Taking a step back, the two opponents allowed themselves to catch their breath.
“How about we make this more interesting, a bet on who wins the next round?” Sofia challenged, eyes sparkling in anticipation.
“I don’t know,” Jon confessed, “What are we going to bet on?”
“Whatever you want,” she shot back.
Jon, who had already worked up a heavy sweat, felt his body temperature shoot up by a further ten degree’s upon her response. A thousand thoughts, all lustful, poured forth from his imagination into his mind and he had to fight to control his bodies response. Taking a deep breath to calm his overactive imagination, Jon thought quickly. While Sofia was an outstanding student, even with her slight advantage in terms of speed she was never going to best him, Jon had spent almost the past ten years in combat of one form or another, continually honing his fighting skills. Hence he would put on a good show, perhaps even let Sofia think she had the edge, before making it seem like he only just won…and the wager. Pushing to the back of his mind all the delirious thoughts of what he wanted, especially when she stood there in-front of him, hot, sweaty and glowing…Well he would just make some silly requirement that, that… she never cut her hair, or something… Decision made he nodded his head in agreement and stepped back into his combat stance.
Sofia once again attacked, harder and faster than before. Jon had to focus a great deal of his concentration into blocking her attacks. Occasionally, when he saw an opening, he quickly counter attacked to make it seem like he was at least trying. Finally after a good few minutes of sparring and both opponents starting to get tired, Jon finally started to look for an opportunity to finish the match. However, before he could, he saw Sofia take a step off the practice mat, instantly slipping. He saw her startled expression and tried to lunge to catch her. Unfortunately he was just too far away and off balance, with a startled cry Sofia fell heavily onto the mat, her ankle at a bad angle and was still. Worried that Sofia could have badly hurt her ankle with the fall he hurried over to make sure that she was unhurt.
Before Jon knew what was happening, his legs went out from underneath him and completely unprepared, he hit the mat, hard. All the air fled from his lungs and Jon desperately tried to catch his breath, but before he could a soft but heavy weight landed on his chest and a vicious elbow was shoved into his throat. Lifting his head off the ground, Jon stared into a pair of triumphant green eyes.
“I win,” she exclaimed victoriously.
“You cheated!” Jon replied, experimentally trying to move his body to see if he could dislodge her. However, the moment Sofia felt him starting to move she jabbed her elbow deeper into his throat. Anyway Jon quickly discovered that movement was a bad idea, as most of Sofia’s weight was spread across his lower chest and…groin. Her weight combined with his movement was causing… other parts of his body to become excited. Laying his head back on the ground in defeat, he sighed deeply before realising the implications of losing. He had never seriously considered losing the wager and had not given any thought to what she might demand, after all she had insisted anything...
“Ok, you win!” Jon admitted. “So you win the bet, what do you want?” Jon asked curious to know what she was going to demand.
“A night out. Dinner, followed by dancing!” Sofia exclaimed excitedly. “You do know how to dance don’t you?” Sofia asked suspiciously, she had never actually seen Jon dance.
As a matter of a fact, Jon did know how to dance; as an officer in the Imperial Navy he was also expected to represent the Empire on formal occasions of state, hence dancing lessons had been mandatory at the Military Academy. Desperately Jon tried to think of some excuse, some reason before suddenly hitting on the perfect one. “I would love to, but we don’t have anything to wear.” Jon motioned towards their sweats and T-shirts. “Unfortunately seeing as I just disobeyed direct orders, stole a shuttle, including taking hostage the Imperial Princess on the aforementioned shuttle I think pay-day is…unlikely this month!” Jon smiled triumphantly, with the perfect excuse.
Sofia just gave him another predatory smile, before breathing into his ear and whispering, “Jon, dear, honey, snookum’s, do you remember what I am?”
Staring into her bright green eyes that were dancing in merriment, with her breasts firmly pressed against his chest and their groins joined, all Jon could manage in his strangled response was “Very hot…”
Surprised, as that had not been the response she was expecting, Sofia released her elbow from the poor boy’s neck in case he was starting to suffer from oxygen deprivation, before explaining. “I am an Imperial Princess, daughter of the Emperor and very, very, extremely, fabulously, rich. Could I interest you in a new ship, as I understand that our current one has some problems, or a planet perhaps, maybe just a small moon…”
Jon just lay back on the ground, staring into the darkened sky. Oh yeah, I had forgotten about that. Damn. Looks like dinner and dancing it is.
*****
Jon pulled at his collar once again, while waiting for Sofia to get ready for dinner and dancing, Jon had strenuously refused to use the ‘date’ word.
“Stop pulling at it, or you’ll end up twisting it,” his father complained.
“It’s not my fault, the damn thing is too tight, it’s like a noose!” However, his father just gave him an amused look.
“Now don’t forget, I want you both home by midnight, and no necking in the cab,” his father warned him seriously, which was rather spoilt by the grin that was threatening to split his face in half.
“You are having far too much fun with this,” Jon warned his father.
His father gave the accusation careful consideration before he replied, “Yep.”
Sighing at his unrepentant father, Jon had to confess – only in private - that the suit that he wore was not that bad. While very similar to his usual navy uniform this was a charcoal grey, unlike his usual navy whites. Jon idly wondered if it was this similarity that prompted Sofia to purchase it earlier in the day, when Sofia and his mother went out for some…shopping. The fact that they were gone most of the day did not phase Jon in the slightest, and if he continually checked the chronometer every five minutes, well…that was just because he was really interested in the time. Jon had been waiting for over thirty minutes for Sofia to get ready, and for the thirtieth time wondered what she would be wearing. A sharply in-drawn breath from his father standing by his side seemed to answer that question and steeling himself, Jon turned around and the breath caught in his own throat.
He had seen Sofia dressed up for many formal occasions, wearing many different dresses but at that moment in time Jon could not for the life of him ever remember Sofia look so beautiful. With her stunning red hair, combed back so that it almost reached her shoulder, deeply offset by a lacy emerald green blouse that matched her eye colour perfectly, she was wearing a maroon coloured skirt that barely reached her knees, showing off her perfect, and endlessly long legs that concluded in a pair of strappy wrap-around sandals. Jon knew that he should say something but could only gape, with his mouth open as she descended down the stairs.
<
br /> “Close your mouth Commander,” she uttered on the way past, “otherwise you will catch flies.” With a pat on the back from his father and best wishes from his mother he followed the Princess out of the house to the waiting cab. The cab had also been waiting for the past thirty minutes and it was only the promise of a truly astronomical tip, that had mollified the driver, after all it was Sofia’s money, and Jon had heard that the Aurelius ship-yards had been doing good business for the past, oh, five centuries…
They arrived soon after at the restaurant Jon had chosen for dinner. Jon did not actually know any expensive restaurants on Altair - he was fairly sure that the definition of an expensive restaurant on Altair was an oxymoron - but a quick search on the planetary data-net confirmed that they did exist. Booking a table had not been a problem as Jon doubted that there were more than a dozen potential customers on the entire planet that could afford the astronomical prices.
Offering his hand to the Princess - after all anyone looking so stunning could hardly have been anything but - he escorted her into the restaurant. The maître d’ scanned the list of names before them and, confirming their reservation escorted them to a table next to the windows, open to allow in the still warm evening air, with the stars glistening beautifully outside. Seated, Jon found that he could not tear his gaze away from Sofia, completely enamoured.
Finally Sofia broke the silence, by glancing down at the menu. “Shall we order?” She proposed. Tentatively, Jon reached for the menu, handling it much like one would a poisonous snake. With a certain degree of dread Jon read down the list of items, not recognising any of them. Slightly more urgently he flipped to the next page with the same result. Jon glanced at some of the prices listed next to the items, and then adverted his eyes. Possibly he could afford some of the smaller items on his navy salary, for example the Tartare Salad, was priced at just under his monthly salary.
As he slowly closed the menu, Sofia looked up in surprise and inquired, “You have decided what to order, already? That was quick.” Jon nodded in acknowledgement and watched as Sofia motioned for their server to come over to take their order. When their server arrived, with real pen and paper, to take their order Sofia motioned to Jon to order first. “I’m still trying to decide… darling,” she explained. As Jon observed Sofia peering over the top of the menu, paying absolutely no attention to its contents he knew he was being set up. The Witch!
“I’ll have the Lobster Newberry, arugula and goat cheese salad,” Jon ordered promptly, gazing deeply into Sofia’s eyes, not for an instant missing the flash of surprise in her eyes.
“And what about madam?” The server inquired, turning to Sofia after jotting down the order.
“Ugh,” she replied with a slight flush, having been far more interested in what Jon was ordering than actually reading the menu. “I’ll have the same as him,” she finally stated.
“Excellent,” the server responded completely missing the non-verbal byplay that was taking place across the table. “Can I get sir or madam any drinks? We have an excellent wine selection,” he motioned towards the menu lying on the table.
“Why don’t you order…dear,” Sofia suggested with an enigmatic smile. “You know me, no idea about wines.” The server shifted his gaze to Jon expectantly.
“A bottle of 2712 Haut-Brion Blanc,” Jon did not even glance at the menu, keeping his gaze intently focused on Sofia.
“A particularly inspired choice, sir,” the server said approvingly. “I’ll be back with your wine in just a moment.”
As the server disappeared, probably into the deepest darkest depths of the wine cellar to look for a 75-year-old bottle of wine, Sofia’s gaze fell to the tablecloth. What had initially started off as a little light teasing of Jon had quickly lost its allure when it became obvious that Jon was exceptionally familiar with the menu. Sofia, wondered how many other women Jon had wined and dined at this restaurant, perhaps this very table.
Noticing Sofia’s sad gaze fall to the tablecloth, as she started to draw random shapes on the table, Jon cursed himself. After the terrible lies that he had said about her family, Jon swore to himself that he would never hurt this woman again, that she had already gone through enough pain in her life. Now here he was barely thirty minutes into their date, and already he had hurt her again. This time it was different though, whatever he had done to hurt her, he was going to correct it. Jon had already spent a week living with the painful distance between themselves and he would not, could not, go through that again. Hence he did something that even a few weeks ago he would never have contemplated. Without permission he reached across the table, enfolding the finger drawing shapes on the table with one hand, and with the other deftly lifted her chin until she was looking him in the eye.
“Please tell me what I said or did to upset you?” He asked softly, continuing to hold her hand and touch her cheek delicately.
Looking at the tablecloth again, she commented. “I guess that you must come here often?” Noticing the surprised look on Jon’s face she hurriedly added. “As you seem to know the menu so well. Do you bring many women here for dinner?”
Jon continued to gaze into Sofia’s eyes fondly, without responding. Only when finally, waiting for a response did she look him in the eye, he replied. “I’ve never been to this restaurant before, I found it on the data-net while you were out shopping. As for other women, there have been terribly few, ever since I found myself keeping company with a real life Princess.”
Sofia just blushed at his gentle words, but that did not explain how come he knew the menu so intimately! “So how did you know what to order?” Sofia asked puzzled.
Leaning forward so only Sofia could hear his whispered response he replied. “I have absolutely no idea what I just ordered. I simply chose the most expensive item on each page.” The sound of Sofia’s crystal clear laugh turned more than one male head in the restaurant.
*****
All in all, Jon enjoyed dinner far more than he was expecting. The food was… interesting, after Sofia had explained to him what he had actually ordered. The wine was crisp and clear, surprising seeing that it was almost 75 years old…and the bill? Well Jon just decided not to even think about that. It was still fairly early when they left the restaurant, and the evening still pleasantly warm after the daytime heat.
“So what would you like to do now Princess?” Jon accentuated his point by smoothing back behind her ear one of her strands of hair that had escaped.
“I believe that you still owe me a dance, Commander,” Sofia replied archly.
“So I do,” Jon replied, looking around and taking his bearings. He remembered a club, not far from here, which he frequented occasionally when attending the Academy on Altair. Unlike most of the clubs that he knew, this one was more of an open-air patio, hence was not stifling and deafening – at the same time.
Taking her hand in his, the couple walked hand-in hand in the direction of the club. Frequently Jon pointed out sights, scenes and buildings from his childhood on Altair. There was a short queue already forming outside the club, and they had to wait several minutes for the queue to disperse. Idly Jon wondered if Sofia had ever had to queue for anything in her life, but quickly dismissed the question, as she seemed to be taking it in good humour.
In actual fact Sofia spent most of her time observing the other patrons in the queue waiting to enter the club. Jon felt a stab of jealously for a moment before he realised that she was just naturally curious. Sofia had grown up on the Imperial Star, surrounded either by Imperial Navy personnel or the politicians and their families on rotation. She had never seen the riot of colours, styles, tattoos, and piercings that was on show by the youths queuing for the club.
Jon did observe a number of the youths eying Sofia lustfully; those he met each of their gazes for a few moments before they averted their eyes. Most of the young men also got a sharp elbow in the stomach from their partners, encouraging them to pay attention. Jon noticed one or two envious glances from the
partners as well! Sighing to himself that this was probably not a good idea, but too late now as Sofia would never agree to leave, Jon promised himself to keep very, very close to her inside the club.
Sofia meanwhile, was drowning in a sea of colours and cultures, and loving every minute of it. She had not realised how sterile her life aboard the Imperial Star had been until so many different people surrounded her. She stared in amazement at the different people, some with green and orange hair, others covered in tattoos, and the clothes that the women wore! Some of them hid almost nothing! She quickly glanced at Jon to make sure that he was not ogling at any of then, but instead Jon was giving an angry stare at one of the young men ahead of them in the queue who was staring openly at them; a few moments later he looked away.
Jon meanwhile just seemed to ooze… menace, even without his immaculate white uniform, with the Praetorian insignia and his sword, dressed in a charcoal grey suit, which now matched his darkened eye colour. The suit did nothing to hide the broad shoulders and strong biceps, and the frown that he wore was enough to scare anybody. While she had always noticed that Jon was very handsome, this was a new side to him that she had never seen before. Far from being repelled, Sofia found the dark, heated look extremely attractive, knowing that it was Jon’s way of warning any potential men away. Taking a page from Jon’s book she reached up and touched his cheek, drawing his gaze to her. As Jon’s face focused on her once again his eyes lightened to their usual misty grey and his face relaxed.
As they reached the front of the queue, Sofia turned around and reminded Jon. “Don’t forget that you own me a dance.”
Jon only smiled, he had not forgotten.
*****
The club was absolutely packed when they finally made it inside; finding a table was out of the question – and anyway with the deafening noise and stifling heat it would have been pointless. Instead Jon slid an arm around Sofia’s waist, much to her delight and shouted loudly into her ear, to be heard above the music, the directions to the open-air patio. Once they finally managed to push through the crowds and out into the open, Sofia gasped in delight. The view was as spectacular as Jon had remembered it, with Carrington city spread across to the right, but the bay spreading out in a panorama directly in front of them.
