Death Do Us Part

By Shadowed Replica

Prologue

Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue. (Of course the plot and girl are my creations for the most part, except for the events that occurred during Pitch Black. Ha!)

He walked in the flashy establishment that called itself Blue Ice; just a flashy name for a trashy bar. But the lights in here – neon blues mostly – were not as violent against his sensitive eyesight. Pulling his goggles off, he studied the throngs of young adults grinding their bodies together like wild beasts in heat. Satisfied that he might actually get some down time to think after meeting with his contact he continued through the crowd.

Here and there a body would brush against his and he would have to force himself not to growl. He saw the little piss ant sitting in a shadowed alcove dressed in a cheap suit with even cheaper hookers attached to his side. He was chewing on a cigar and he could smell the stench of the little shit over the group arousal that suffocated his senses.

When the little weasel saw him approach he shooed the hookers and nodded nervously to him mumbling, "Riddick," in a very soft voice.

"Jazz, I see you've decided to crawl out of that rat hole and fall in with the ferrets." The little robust man turned red with anger but wisely squelched it before smiling deviously. "What you got for me?"

"Seems your little killing spree on Mu'kra pissed off quite a few officials. The bounty is up 4 mill and mercs all around are rubbing their hands together. The creds just keep piling higher and higher my friend." Jazz thrust a ticket towards him, "This one will take you to New Mecca, it's a little jumper but it should get you there."

Riddick nodded his bald head, snatched the ticket and disappeared. He took seat at the end of the bar in a darkened corner motioning for the bartender to come closer. He watched her move with an unnatural grace that reminded him of a predator. Smirking in the dark, he watched the long blonde and brown haired girl stalk over to him quietly. She handed a Sazerac to some wasted kid that swayed dangerously close to falling off his stool.

Green-gold eyes stared at his shadowed face curiously. She was of average height with wide hips and well-muscled legs. Her wrists were tiny with broad shoulders and a small chest. Her ribs protruded slightly as though they were too big for her body and pushed outward. Her cheekbones were cut high –almost regally so. The long wavy wisps of hair had been pulled back with a butterfly clip allowing it to hang just past her shoulder blades. She placed a well-manicured hand on the bar, "Wha' can I do you for?" She had a lilting accent that seemed to blend between old-English and old-Earth Australian; it was a little deep but she probably had a good singing voice.

Riddick mentally reprimanded himself for noticing such things about a girl. He thought for a moment before answering, "Corpse reviver in a highball."

The girl nodded to him and turned back to some of the strongest stuff in the galaxy providing the murderer with a nice view of her backside. He was disappointed to see she did not have a large rump; poor girl probably came late into her chest. She was a natural beauty; one easily doused by the exotic but flaming with elegance and class –especially in this dump.

He watched her pour the brandy and some calvados into the mixer followed with vermouth. She pulled out a highball as she shook the liquors vigorously and then poured it into the cup. She turned around and set the glass down sharply on the bar before sliding it down to him as another patron called an order.

He downed the glass and licked his lips. The burn in his chest made him smirk once more before setting the empty glass on the bar and sliding it toward her back. If she hadn't turned to catch the glass just when she did it would have shattered on the ground; she was good he had to admit. She poured him another one and pulled a stray liquor from underneath the bar. She looked right up at him as though she could see his eyes in the dark and poured it into the glass. She slid it over to him and smirked, "Guaranteed to knock you off your ass Furyan." She laughed a little before turning back to her patrons.

He smirked inwardly, the girl was good. She had surprised him though; not many could tell he was a Furyan just by looking at him. He watched the girl throughout the night cautiously. She seemed to be someone of a higher social scene than everyone in the joint. She moved like a predator, much like himself. She was always aware of her surroundings and was good at faking drinks of the alcohol her patrons loved to buy her.

More to the end of the night or early morning – whichever one wanted to call it – he watched a beefy man with a tattooed body hit on her in his drunken stupor several times before grabbing a hold of her arm when she tried to leave his side. She had stared at him with menace that didn't permeate the haze the man was in.

In movements that belied her calm appearance, the man was howling and clutching a broken arm and the girl was walking away. The man, in a drunken rage, grabbed a bottle with his good hand and flung it at her. She turned and barely avoided the bottle. Snarling, she turned to walk away once again before he hurled an insult her way, "Slut!"

Her eyes had been murderous as she advanced on him. He laughed and grabbed a pool stick and swung it at her. She avoided the slow movement and jump-kicked him in the throat. He clutched at his broken swelling throat and fell to the ground gurgling in pain. She untied her apron and hung it up on a hook behind the bar before stomping angrily out the back calling her shift done over her shoulder.

Perhaps it was whatever she had poured into his drink, or maybe just the lust and the boos mixed together, that made him follow her. Whatever it was, he chose to stalk her from above. Thus he could see the ambush waiting for her at the opening of the alleyway. She seemed to notice as well and stepped into the shadows pressing her body against the wall. He watched with interest as the men descended into the alley to search for her.

One man came too close to her and she snapped his neck easily catching the body that almost knocked her off her feet. She used the wall to lower him silently. He watched with darkened approval as she slid next to the closest guy and caught his shirt pulling him into her. He got a yell out as she punched his throat which alerted the others to her presence. Cursing she kicked him into the others and jumped on the largest guy hauling him to the side with her near insignificant weight. He wrapped one meaty hand around her upper arm and swung her off. Her leg hit the dumpster and she yelped in pain making the big guy laugh. She used his thigh as leverage and launched herself upward smacking their heads together in a head butt.

He cursed and dropped her unceremoniously to the ground while she clutched at her head. Definitely not a smart move for her, Riddick observed. She recovered quickly enough to dodge another grab attempt by the big man. Her foot connected with the backs of the large mans knees and took him down. She jumped on his back and dug her fingers into his eye sockets ignoring his scream of pain until she was thrown off and into the other two.

Shaking her head, she slammed her feet down on their shins a few times until a resounding crack satisfied her. While they were all crying about their injuries, she made a dash for the exit and almost smacked her head into a low-hanging ladder from the fire escape attached to the buildings.

Riddick followed her uneven pace back to her home. He could smell blood and figured she'd either been sliced by the followers though he hadn't seen a knife at all. Then he saw her clutch at her head as she staggered into another alley. He'd had a momentary lapse in memory; her head was bleeding from the head butt.

She was good enough to jump up and catch the ladder of the fire escape and climb up awkwardly because she was clutching her injured arm carefully to her stomach. Using her uninjured right arm, she hauled herself up to the little balcony and staggered her way up to the very top and opened a window silently. She slipped inside and stumbled over her own feet before landing face down on the floor.

For a while he watched her; she didn't move from her spot. Riddick deduced she'd passed out and was about to leave when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. A man in black was moving swiftly up the fire escape and seemed to be fixed on her window. Riddick shrugged and moved to turn away but then decided against it. With a sigh, he leaped from his purchase and landed on top the building just as the man reached her window.

He slipped inside followed silently by Riddick. The man remained unaware of the killer behind him. Riddick watched the man kneel by her side and roll her over. The moment his hand went to her chest Riddick growled lowly in his throat. He went stiff with surprise and turned slowly to see the hulking mass of muscle and death that was Riddick. "Get out."

The man gulped visibly but didn't move, "No way, she's mine. I've spend months trying to track this bitch down."

Riddick took an ominous step toward her, "This bitch is not yours boy, so get lost before I decide to kill you."

"Oh?" He replied smartly, "Then who does she belong to exactly?"

Riddick smirked as he crouched, "Me." His voice was all silk and steel as he lunged at the smaller man.

They tussled for all of ten seconds before Riddick tossed his body outside and followed. He hauled the body up on top the roof and then dumped him over the side. The body fell into the river with an audible splash. Sighing, Riddick returned to the girl and growled to himself, "This is a bad idea."

He picked her up and moved to the bathroom to clean her head gash. About an hour later he found himself laying the girl in her bed and being seriously tempted to get into bed with her and rock her world for a night but decided against it. He would never, EVER take a woman against her will. He may be many things – thief, convict, killer – but he was not a rapist and he would never harm a child that didn't deserve it.

He turned away and headed out the window. Silent as a wraith as he moved away from her, he never looked back.