There's a rose in a fisted glove - [James' quarters] - ["James," Marlena]

[gold_ambition]

It probably wasn't going to work, any more than the tea party or working over the younger Kirk had. But Jim was damned if he was just going to roll over and take it, let Tina Chapel's spell have him without a fight. If it meant proving something to Marlena--though the need to prove anything to her at all made him want to punch something--so be it.

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[lt_moreau]

She pressed the buzzer on his door without allowing herself time to think about it, this time. It was strange, the other day's hesitation, the way she'd stopped. She didn't think about why, didn't want to think about it. It was just Jim, just going to his quarters for a bit of easy gratification the way she had a thousand times before.

Marlena leaned against the wall beside his door as she waited for him to let her in.

[lt_moreau]

"Thought you'd never ask," Marlena responded. Her breath shuddered out as she lowered herself onto him. She bent to kiss him, licking her taste from his lips as she began to move, rocking her hips.

[gold_ambition]

He bucked up into her, not letting her get used to his size; but then again, he thought, shouldn't she be by now? He was desperate, suddenly, not knowing why, his bound arm not so much secure as clinging to the sash as the other hand aided his upward thrusts. Sometimes he wanted it fast and easy but this wasn't the case now. It was something else, something he needed to do, to prove.

[lt_moreau]

His disregard for her comfort was hardly unexpected. It aroused her, almost as much as his obvious need. Small noises of pleasure escaped her as she rocked to meet his thrusts, as eager to provide an outlet for his desperation as she was to slake her own lust.

[gold_ambition]

He knew what she liked, of course. His disregard was usually calculated. But something was wrong. Off. She wasn't right. Normally, her ability to match him aroused him, engaged him. Now it seemed tawdry and unsettling, though he had no idea why. Her vicious enthusiasm failed to arouse him. It was almost as if her acceptance of this, of him, was no longer acceptable to him.

Jim wrenched his other arm from the sash, stilling her hips with his hands before rolling them together. But no, not enough, not right. Unthinking, he pulled out. "Turn over," he growled.

[lt_moreau]

The sudden lack was keenly felt, leaving her feeling empty on a far deeper level than merely between her legs. She did as he said, turning under him with a soft sound of assent--or was it desperation? She spread her legs for him, willing and eager for whatever he would do to her.

[gold_ambition]

She was on her hands and knees when he entered her again, but there was still something wrong. Something brazen and animalistic about the way she arched up against him, taking him deeper. Something perverse and so very Marlena that he nearly growled in frustration.

He forced her to the bed, nearly on her side, his body covering hers at every possible point of contact. There. There. Eyes closed, his thrusts became less fierce, the slide almost gentle as he felt every inch of himself within her, tight and complete. But he didn't slow down. In fact, he was harder, closer, than ever, his body desperate for completion before his mind caught up to what he was doing and embarrassed him. He needed her to feel it, too. To acknowledge. He slid a hand over her hip, to touch her, to send her rippling around him so he could come.

[lt_moreau]

Something was different, Marlena realized even as she arched back against him, his hand making her breath stutter in time with his touches. He fucked her gently, as though he were someone else, or she were someone else. When she came, it was with the gasped cry of the broken-hearted, squeezing her eyes shut as she shuddered under him. "Jim. Oh, Jim."

[gold_ambition]

And at the sound of his name, his real name, her cunt rippling urgently around him, the blood rushed so loud in his ears that he barely recognized the voice that his release wrenched from him, the murmured "Tina" into another woman's hair as he seized and spent within her.

[lt_moreau]

If Marlena hadn't been sure before, his murmur was as good as a confession of guilt. She wriggled out from beneath him, shoving him off her. He had changed, altered by this universe. She reached for her sash, not trusting her voice.

[gold_ambition]

For a moment he just stared at her, almost comically confused by her actions. And then it dawned on him, all at once, what he'd done. What she'd made him do. He was on his feet in an instant, grabbing her arm.

"Marlena, it's not what you think," he said, gripping her hard.

[lt_moreau]

"Really," she said, fighting to keep her voice level, to control the rising sensation of hysteria. "Please, enlighten me. If it's not what I think, what is it?" She wrenched her arm away from him, blinking back tears that had no business being there--Illogical, came the thought, but Spock had never seen her cry. She snatched up her dress and pulled it on, knotting the sash around her waist with jerky motions, and glared at Jim, breathing hard.

[gold_ambition]

Still nude, he followed her, trapping her against the wall with his arms on either side of her head. "It's nothing," he spat, almost desperately. "It'll pass. What, Marlena? Do you need to be the only woman desired by two Jim Kirks? Right now, I want her--and it's none of your fucking business."

[lt_moreau]

She shook her head--a denial, a rejection. "You said you hadn't changed," she said desperately. "But you--" She broke off, gasping. The air felt hot and thin, she couldn't breathe. "Her. Jim, what has this place done to you?" Her voice was a whimper, and she hated it. Hated herself, even, for letting this happen.

[gold_ambition]

"Nothing!" He pounded the wall to the right of her head. "I think you're disappointed that I haven't changed--that you're still not enough for me. Isn't that it? You wish it was you I was chasing after. Well I never had to chase you, Marlena--you threw yourself at me the first available moment. You might want to ask yourself how you've changed, that this matters to you at all."

His chest was heaving, because he suspected the same as she--but it only made him angry at both of them.

[lt_moreau]

Marlena put both hands on his chest and pushed, ineffectually. She couldn't gather her strength, couldn't make him move. "I haven't," she cried, reflexively, an automatic denial. "It's you, it's always been you. What kind of Captain would you be now, Jim?"

His words resonated, just a little, and she shook her head as though trying to dislodge their hold. She wouldn't throw herself at him now. He could chase her if he wanted her, and see whether she let him catch her.