Fight or Flight [Gym - Open]
Marlena was restless.
It was a state she was in far too frequently, these days. The Agurians had proven entertaining; she practiced their music-game from time to time, but as her skill improved, she found it held her attention less and less. Her brief assignation with Bill was a source of amusement as well, if less satisfaction than she'd hoped. She couldn't quite put her finger on why. Leonard's reaction had been ridiculous, of course, and the thought of that particular argument frequently made her stomach clench and twist as she laughed.
Her usual method of entertainment was somewhat scarce, now. Jim had yet to return from his visit to the planet; Bill, she suspected, would not be interested in a repeat performance. She had made her way to her Jim's door, her hand raised to press the buzzer, before time seemed to slow and her skin turned to ice. She watched herself, standing in the corridor, simply unable or unwilling to ask for what she needed, from the one person on this ship who knew her. She turned and fled.
Some other method had to be found, then, of expending the energy that made her skin crawl. Marlena changed into workout clothes--a formfitting shirt and comfortable pants--and headed to the gym. She was struck with a sudden sense of deja vu as she moved toward the bank of elliptical trainers--it was there, she remembered, that she'd first seen Jim and Spock after arriving in this God damned universe. She had greeted Jim with joy, and he'd taken her to the brig. With a shudder, she turned away from the machines.
There. A clear space, the object she needed. Marlena wrapped her hands, stepped up to the punching bag, and began to beat the stuffing out of it.
It was a state she was in far too frequently, these days. The Agurians had proven entertaining; she practiced their music-game from time to time, but as her skill improved, she found it held her attention less and less. Her brief assignation with Bill was a source of amusement as well, if less satisfaction than she'd hoped. She couldn't quite put her finger on why. Leonard's reaction had been ridiculous, of course, and the thought of that particular argument frequently made her stomach clench and twist as she laughed.
Her usual method of entertainment was somewhat scarce, now. Jim had yet to return from his visit to the planet; Bill, she suspected, would not be interested in a repeat performance. She had made her way to her Jim's door, her hand raised to press the buzzer, before time seemed to slow and her skin turned to ice. She watched herself, standing in the corridor, simply unable or unwilling to ask for what she needed, from the one person on this ship who knew her. She turned and fled.
Some other method had to be found, then, of expending the energy that made her skin crawl. Marlena changed into workout clothes--a formfitting shirt and comfortable pants--and headed to the gym. She was struck with a sudden sense of deja vu as she moved toward the bank of elliptical trainers--it was there, she remembered, that she'd first seen Jim and Spock after arriving in this God damned universe. She had greeted Jim with joy, and he'd taken her to the brig. With a shudder, she turned away from the machines.
There. A clear space, the object she needed. Marlena wrapped her hands, stepped up to the punching bag, and began to beat the stuffing out of it.