Categories > Original > Drama
On The Matter Of Marriage
0 reviewsBrief clip. Random scene of TNG!Alana 'interacting' with one of her husband's past dates.
0Unrated
That was it. No more. She couldn't, wouldn't, take it.
"Listen bitch, I'm giving you a last warnin' before my fist goes flying straight to your mouth," Alana spoke in such a low tone that it was nearly a growl, the words coming from the back of her throat and dragged past her teeth. "Back off."
The woman had made more than one mistake that evening. The first was to flirt so openly with Alana's husband. The second was to openly remind him of the way they had spent a night together, and the third, final and most drastic mistake, to walk over to the annoyed brunette while any who could hold her back were elsewhere. Now she openly eyed the body of the woman before her, a lip curling up into an open mockery of the form. "He stays with you because he feels pity and responsibility. He'll want more hot nights with me. I'll be sure to call you when we fuck."
Wrong. Answer.
Alana was a woman of her word. And the word was temperamental. Rather than a fist though, her first attack was a stomp to the instep of the woman's feet. Grabbing her by the shoulders, Alana swept her feet out from under her and dropped her to the ground. The hold on the shoulders followed her, and pegged her, but also slowed the fall the merest bit. Now there was a price to be paid.
Wife stared down at the younger woman, indifferent to the sudden calls and cries gathering around the pub. It wasn't within her true awareness, though part of her mind was listening and gauging for anything she should be aware of. "Do you dare to challenge me? Because I will fuckin' guarantee that I will win," she spoke in lowered tones, with eyes glaring down to the woman. "I know my husband better than you. He's fucked more women in his life than you could think of names you've ever heard spoken in your immature short lived unfulfilled one. And still he keeps coming back to my bed and remembers my name and dreams of fuckin' me when he goes to sleep each night. I think I've got him more than satisfied, if he won't grant you more than a one night stand." To add exclamation to the statement, Alana spit on the girls face before releasing her to stand.
The woman had already proved her foolishness, and attempted to do so again. Anger at the humiliation, her arms wrapped about the attackers legs, intending to draw her down and get her own last words in.
And she did.
But as Alana fell, she feel purposely and back onto the other, knocking the wind out of her as she did so. Grinning, she tipped her lips to the struggling form, whispering, "By the way, I'm a Priestess for Athena. Brains, brawn and boobs. But nothin' 'bout me is B rated." Patting her on the head, again she stood. Patrons had gathered, preparing to break up the fight, but it seemed to have already ended. One of the bar tenders was coming from the back hall, Tryst following behind. Seeing the chaos, with Alana standing above the other in the middle, he quickly understood. A roll of the eyes, and he went to investigate the damage.
"She seemed ta think ya like call backs on your one night stands," she remarked, tilting her head and smiling. It was not the pleasant smile, but the aggressive smile of one who would be ready to take on any fight brought forth. He knew better than to give her such a chance, instead kissing her lightly on the forehead as he placed an arm about her waist. The gesture allowed him to guide her without further incident to the door.
"Only with you my love," he remarked.
Alana smirked. Others might not understand it, but that didn't exactly matter. He was her husband.
"Listen bitch, I'm giving you a last warnin' before my fist goes flying straight to your mouth," Alana spoke in such a low tone that it was nearly a growl, the words coming from the back of her throat and dragged past her teeth. "Back off."
The woman had made more than one mistake that evening. The first was to flirt so openly with Alana's husband. The second was to openly remind him of the way they had spent a night together, and the third, final and most drastic mistake, to walk over to the annoyed brunette while any who could hold her back were elsewhere. Now she openly eyed the body of the woman before her, a lip curling up into an open mockery of the form. "He stays with you because he feels pity and responsibility. He'll want more hot nights with me. I'll be sure to call you when we fuck."
Wrong. Answer.
Alana was a woman of her word. And the word was temperamental. Rather than a fist though, her first attack was a stomp to the instep of the woman's feet. Grabbing her by the shoulders, Alana swept her feet out from under her and dropped her to the ground. The hold on the shoulders followed her, and pegged her, but also slowed the fall the merest bit. Now there was a price to be paid.
Wife stared down at the younger woman, indifferent to the sudden calls and cries gathering around the pub. It wasn't within her true awareness, though part of her mind was listening and gauging for anything she should be aware of. "Do you dare to challenge me? Because I will fuckin' guarantee that I will win," she spoke in lowered tones, with eyes glaring down to the woman. "I know my husband better than you. He's fucked more women in his life than you could think of names you've ever heard spoken in your immature short lived unfulfilled one. And still he keeps coming back to my bed and remembers my name and dreams of fuckin' me when he goes to sleep each night. I think I've got him more than satisfied, if he won't grant you more than a one night stand." To add exclamation to the statement, Alana spit on the girls face before releasing her to stand.
The woman had already proved her foolishness, and attempted to do so again. Anger at the humiliation, her arms wrapped about the attackers legs, intending to draw her down and get her own last words in.
And she did.
But as Alana fell, she feel purposely and back onto the other, knocking the wind out of her as she did so. Grinning, she tipped her lips to the struggling form, whispering, "By the way, I'm a Priestess for Athena. Brains, brawn and boobs. But nothin' 'bout me is B rated." Patting her on the head, again she stood. Patrons had gathered, preparing to break up the fight, but it seemed to have already ended. One of the bar tenders was coming from the back hall, Tryst following behind. Seeing the chaos, with Alana standing above the other in the middle, he quickly understood. A roll of the eyes, and he went to investigate the damage.
"She seemed ta think ya like call backs on your one night stands," she remarked, tilting her head and smiling. It was not the pleasant smile, but the aggressive smile of one who would be ready to take on any fight brought forth. He knew better than to give her such a chance, instead kissing her lightly on the forehead as he placed an arm about her waist. The gesture allowed him to guide her without further incident to the door.
"Only with you my love," he remarked.
Alana smirked. Others might not understand it, but that didn't exactly matter. He was her husband.
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