Epilogue Part 2 #3
“Critical for mission success,” I confirm, already reaching for her again with hands that tremble slightly with eagerness to continue our comprehensive research into optimal synchronization techniques.
The tremor is embarrassing evidence of how thoroughly she affects my normally precise motor control.
After fifteen months, her touch still generates responses that compromise my legendary composure.
The consistency of her impact suggests our bond operates at neurochemical levels beyond conscious regulation.
And somewhere in the depths of OOPS headquarters, Mother Morrison reviews our acceptance of yet another romantic assignment and undoubtedly smiles with the satisfaction of a master strategist whose favorite project continues to exceed all projected parameters.
Her long-term planning has created the perfect operational framework for our continued partnership development. Assignments that require our specific skill set while providing opportunities for relationship enhancement represent optimal resource utilization.
After all, successful protocol deviations deserve comprehensive support and unlimited research opportunities.
Starting with whatever soundproofing upgrades our quarters can accommodate, because apparently AXIS has been fielding noise complaints with increasing frequency.
The knowledge that our “research sessions” generate sufficient volume to disturb neighboring vessels triggers primitive masculine satisfaction that probably qualifies as unprofessional. I find I cannot bring myself to care.
Because apparently, the galaxy’s most notorious reformed fugitives are about to become its most thoroughly trained diplomatic specialists.
One synchronized orgasm at a time.
Perfect parameters, indeed.
Six hours and extensive “baseline measurements” later...
“So,” Dominique says with satisfaction, wonderfully tired and glowing with post-research contentment, “are we ready for Joid'oria Prime?”
I consider this question with characteristic thoroughness, though my patterns are still pulsing with golden satisfaction from our most recent coordination exercise where I successfully brought her to climax three separate times before achieving perfect synchronization on the fourth peak.
“I believe our synchronization levels are approaching optimal parameters,” I reply with scientific precision that masks the primitive masculine pride I feel at having systematically reduced my brilliant wife to incoherent satisfaction.
“However, I recommend continued practice during our transit to ensure peak performance capability.”
The recommendation is both logical and personally motivated. Extended preparation time would allow for comprehensive skill development while providing additional opportunities for demonstrating my mastery of her responses.
“Continued practice,” she agrees solemnly, though her eyes sparkle with the same competitive enthusiasm that drives my own research interests. “For the good of interstellar diplomacy.”
“For the good of interstellar diplomacy,” I confirm with mock gravity. “And the advancement of partnership optimization science.”
“Partnership optimization science,” she repeats with wonder. “We’ve invented our own field of study.”
“We have pioneered advanced techniques in compatibility research,” I correct with academic pride that only partially conceals my satisfaction in our extraordinary success rate. “Our methodology could revolutionize inter-species relationship dynamics.”
The potential applications are genuinely fascinating, though I suspect our specific techniques would generate significant commentary from other diplomatic partnerships.
Not every couple achieves measurable synchronization across multiple parameters while maintaining individual identity and operational effectiveness.
“Our methodology,” she laughs, “is just us being disgustingly compatible and having amazing sex.”
“Disgustingly compatible partners with exceptional sexual coordination and measurable synchronization capabilities,” I clarify helpfully. “Very scientific.”
“Very romantic,” she counters.
“Romance enhanced by empirical validation,” I compromise with growing contentment. “The best of both approaches.”
The combination satisfies both my need for logical framework and my growing appreciation for emotional expression. Scientific romance, perhaps. Or romantic science. The terminology matters less than the results.
As we finally settle in for actual sleep—eventually—I reflect on the extraordinary nature of our journey.
From accidental diplomatic complications to optimal partners, from fugitives to one of OOPS’s most successful specialized teams, from strangers to bondmates who achieve measurable synchronization across multiple parameters.
The statistical improbability of our success continues to amaze me. Finding compatible partnership should be mathematically impossible given the variables involved. Yet here we are: living proof that sometimes the universe generates outcomes that defy logical prediction.
The galaxy contains many wonders, but none as remarkable as discovering the person who enhances your capabilities rather than limiting them. Who challenges your assumptions while supporting your goals. Who makes you more yourself than you believed possible.
Even if that person finds endless amusement in my tendency to analyze everything, including my own happiness.
Especially because she does.
Perfect parameters, indeed.