I'm still alive and am back with a bit more this time. It would have been out sooner, but somehow the excitement didn't stop, because my laptop crashed. Being in a foreign country there was not that much I could do, but fortunately I had a flight home that week and got it repaired. It is sheer luck that I had a backup of my most recent version of this story, since after wiping the hard drive there was nothing left. Anyway - here it is. With a few chunks of Quaritch's POV like requested. And this time it is much longer. Enjoy. :)
The following scene borrows a bit from another movie by James Cameron and whoever guesses which, earns themselves a cookie. :D
He had summoned her to his quarters, not quite unsurprisingly and she had followed the call, not quite out of free will. But there she was now. He had let her in, made her walk in the middle of the room, but then seemingly had lost all interest in her. She felt totally bewildered standing there, but she had no desire to sit down before being explicitly asked to do so. Until then she would keep standing and waiting, although she slowly became nervous.
As if she was not present at all, Quaritch walked to the wall and took one of the weapons down. It looked large and dangerous, but apart from that Grace couldn't tell what kind of gun that was. Her qualifications lay elsewhere.
He began taking it apart, inspecting each component. Then he took a piece of cloth and began cleaning the disassembled weapon.
"This is a Combat shotgun," he explained, but it sounded as if he was talking to himself. Since Grace couldn't think of an appropriate answer, she stayed silent.
What the hell is he doing?
"Its magazine holds 96 shots and uses 20mm shells. It is very affective against the Na'Vi at close range and could rip one of them apart instantly."
"Interesting."
Why are you telling me this?
"It's a very useful tool, but there are already better models available."
Grace watched him handling the weapon. He knew exactly what he was doing and he did so with complete calmness. He was definitely a professional in his field of expertise, she had to admit that.
Still baffled by his recent actions, Grace decided to continue watching him. He obviously took his time and when he was finished he put the rifle back to its original place.
Then he faced her, as if he had only now realized that she had been present the whole time.
Softly he stroked her shoulder and her hair, before turning around and moving to the couch at the other side of the room.
Very slowly he sat down and poured two drinks, however without making the slightest indication that she should follow him.
Grace remained standing.
He smiled and leaned back.
"Please come a bit closer."
She obliged by taking a step forward.
"Very good."
He took his glass and drank a little sip out of it before putting it back on the table.
"You are so beautiful. I would like to watch you a bit."
"Watch me?"
Of course – if it had been simple, it hadn't been Quaritch. He seemed to have an endless supply of ways to make her life hell.
She had come here for sex, expected a mechanical and not very satisfying act and wanted to get over with it.
But because he knew this he made it harder on purpose. Why was she surprised?
The moment the question had burst out of her mouth, Grace realized that this was not the right way.
Each time she acted confused or puzzled he had gained what he wanted. Instead, she decided, she tried to play along, at least this time.
She was so low already that there was nothing more to lose.
"What do you want me to do?"
If he realized her change in behavior Grace could not tell. But he did not acknowledge it in any way.
"You may start with removing your blouse."
Grace looked down on herself and than began with unbuttoning her blouse as graceless as possible, which of course was not to his liking.
"No, no. Do it slowly. Very slowly."
She stopped and thought for a moment to defy him, but didn't want him to give the pleasure of doing so, because he probably expected her to refuse.
Little by little she began unbuttoning the rest of her blouse in a calm manner. When it was open she let it linger a bit, just so that it revealed her white bra and her bare belly, before she let it fall to the floor where it landed silently.
If she had to humiliate herself, she would at least retain a last bit of pride.
She was not frightened of him and he should know it.
He leaned forward and watched her, his gaze a mixture between anticipation and lust.
"Now remove your bra ... slowly."
Grace obliged again.
It had been a long time since a man had seen her like this. She never had expected nor wanted Quaritch to be the one who finally did. Naturally she felt exposed and awkward, but she resisted the urge to cover her breasts. She was starting to get into the ritual and in her head the biologist started to kick in. This was all part of an elaborate mating ritual a little voice in her head cried, although she had to admit that humans were the only ones of all the terrestrial and extraterrestrial species she'd met who were capable to do such things to one another. But then – the only other sapient species she knew of were the Na'Vi and those she didn't know that well enough to make any qualified statements.
She had white skin and a few freckles, just as Quaritch had expected her to be. It was the first time he saw her delicate body and he was not disappointed. In fact he was quite surprised how well she adapted. She knew the game and she played it. By his rules, of course, but she tested the boundaries on a constant basis; and she knew how to deviate, even if it was by a tiny degree. He had had liked the fight she had put on at the conference and the defiance in her eyes that day. It was clear that she was working on a plan on how to get away from him in this very moment. Despite all that or probably because of it he liked her. But she wouldn't possibly understand that and it was better that way.
For an instant Grace thought she had seen a flicker of thoughtfulness in his face, as if his mind was not with her and her presence. But the moment was over before it had even begun. His eyes were firmly on her body now, waiting for her to reveal more.
"Now slide your trousers off."
Her fingers found the button of her jeans and she opened it slowly without even looking. Then she pulled the zipper down, thus opening the trousers enough to get out of them. She locked her thumbs at the waistband and pulled them slowly down. When they lay on the floor she stepped out of them and moved them away with her foot.
He nodded solemnly.
"That's good. Now the panties."
The last barrier before her total nakedness was about to fall, but from a biological perspective there was nothing to be afraid of. She realized that her science was the survival mantra of this very moment. If she didn't think too much about what was happening it was easier to continue – and being detached certainly helped.
With a swift movement she got rid of the last piece of clothing. She closed her eyes of the fraction of second and inhaled, but strangely enough there was not much of a difference. She shivered a bit, but not because she was ashamed, but because it was a bit cool without her clothes. The air conditioning worked too well, it seemed.
She wondered what the next step would be and remained motionless until he announced the next directive.
His quiet, rough voice cut through her trance.
"Now, lie on the bed and close your eyes."
She stopped immediately, raised her head and fixed him for a couple of seconds. His face was very sober and if he was aroused – what she assumed – she couldn't see it from here. His mien didn't show and for everything else the table was in the way.
With her long legs she easily stepped over the pile of her clothes to the bed which was on the other side of the room.
She sat down slowly with an elegance she neither intended nor anticipated. The bed sheets felt cool against her bare skin, but began to warm rather quickly. She lay down as she was told to and closed her eyes.
For a while there was an eerie silence in the room and the only sound she heard was her own breath and the beating of her heart.
Then there was the rustling of clothes being removed and the soft vibrations of steps coming nearer.
She didn't need to watch in order to know that he had just undressed himself and was now on his way to her.
Her heart beat faster and she felt sweat in her palms, but she didn't dare to move.
When he came nearer she could almost sense his proximity and when he finally sat beside her the mattress gave way a bit under his weight.
He stayed where he was, but without touching her at first. Then, slowly he began stroking her hair, almost lovingly. Then as if he had all the time in the world he began running his fingertips over her eyes, down her cheeks. He had warm, dry hands which made his touch almost agreeable. There was no denying that a part of her found this very delicate and delicious, but these were her primeval instincts. Consciously she disgusted the very notion of being here.
She was again caught in the same dilemma as a few nights before.
There was no way she could resist her own instincts, what her body told her. But should she give in so easily? Wouldn't that be a betrayal to her own self? Letting herself go would certainly make things easier and more enjoyable, but wasn't that just an illusion? Would she be able to look at herself in the mirror again?
This was something that only concerned herself, but she hated him so much for forcing her into this predicament.
She felt his hot mouth at her ear, whispering a passionate: "Sshhh", before he bended over her and brought his lips gradually down to her. He touched them to hers so slowly that she barely knew he was kissing her. Then and only then he took her in a passionate kiss.
She sighed and let it happen. Although everything in her ached to return it, she did not. Yet she dared to open her eyes again. He had indeed undressed and Grace was not in the least surprised to see the muscular body of a trained soldier.
He reached out and began stroking her delicate shoulder while he began kissing her neck slowly working his way down to her breasts. She didn't physically resist but he could feel her reluctance. How long had he waited to touch her like this, see how she reacted while being in his arms.
Granted, a bit of force had been necessary, but there she was. Strong and fragile at the same time. She reacted to his caresses, but he knew that she didn't really enjoy it. Still, she had surrendered to him and a fool he would be if he didn't take advantage of it.
He knew that he had won.
His hunger and greed became more obvious now that he was so close.
He continued his caresses leaving a wet trail with his mouth. When he suddenly stopped, it came quite unexpectedly. His hands were on her breasts, stroking and caressing her nipples, and he looked at them with keen interest.
"I didn't know you had any children," he eventually said. His voice didn't betray whether it was meant as a casual remark, genuine interest or another way to hurt her. But it didn't matter. It all came back on her and it felt like a sharp pain.
Not again!
"I don't," she snapped. "But I don't think my past is of any interest to you."
"I see." He nodded thoughtfully. "Just as you wish."
Children…
Grace didn't know if he would now try to find out more about her life before Pandora. Her reaction surely gave him a reason and be it only to find new ways to offend her. But on the other hand, for some reason he seemed to respect when she didn't want to discuss a particular subject.
In the end it didn't really matter. He had brought back the memories. She hadn't spoken to anybody about it since her arrival this planet and there was nothing in her professional file relating to her personal past. But it was no real secret either. Still - it might have been the reason why she volunteered to go to another planet as one of the first humans, but it didn't impair her work and her research and thus it was nobody's business.
But why is it still so difficult after all this time?
He really didn't press the matter any further, but continued where he had left off. For her the mood was ruined even further with this conversation, he however didn't seem to mind or care.
He kissed her lovingly and finally after a long while where he took his time to concentrated on kissing her and tenderly playing with her breasts he let his hand wander between her legs.
She suppressed any reaction. Although her brain was signaling a pleasant sensation, she didn't want to give that away.
In a way it was really despairing – her body like all human bodies – was just a machine that worked if one pressed the right buttons. It didn't matter if she wanted it to happen. It simply did and although her face remained calm there were other indicators that signaled him that he managed to arouse her.
He smiled.
"What a good girl you are."
His touches, his caresses and the sensations he triggered in Grace were those of a careful lover, not those of a sick pervert who had her under his command. The illusion was almost perfect and disturbing at the same time, because it fooled her body. He really turned it against her and that hurt more than each violent act he could have committed against her.
When he finally entered her, Grace couldn't get rid of the feeling that he just raped her by not raping her.
But was there to do? She complied. And a tiny part of her even liked it.