Note: I don't own Riddick (oh but I wish) or Jack.
They never slept apart. Not that they couldn't, it just didn't seem all that important. Plus two beds always cost extra in hotel rooms and apartments. Riddick did make sure however that whenever possible they get the biggest bed they could afford. He took up a lot of space and Jack, well she just moved around in her sleep – a lot. One morning Jack woke to find Riddick sleeping on the floor. When asked why he was down there he replied that it was more comfortable than sleeping with a foot or elbow in his ribs the whole night.
He came home late that night, again. He fell into bed, just barely taking off his boots and goggles. He smelled like he always did on those nights, liquor and whores. Not that they were together or anything but it still pissed her off anyway. She knew he was Riddick but liquor is liquor and anyone after a certain amount would not be as alert, his reflexes not as quick. That's all she needed - to be called down to the morgue in the middle of the night to id his body, some mugging gone bad. That and the fact that she didn't even want to know how many diseases he could catch from his "adventures" with the strippers and prostitutes. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" "Doing what, Jack" he mumbled into the pillow. She just sighed at that, he new darn well what she was talking about – men, can't live with them, can't shoot them - at least not this one anyway. "It's either this or I start killing again". He hadn't killed or even gotten into a fight the whole two years since the planet, he did however keep doing this every time he got the chance and she was tired of ignoring it, it was dangerous and a waste of his money, which he didn't have much of to start with.
"Those are the only two choices?" "It's not a choice, it's all I know" was his only reply, still half asleep wishing the conversation would end and he could rest. He was beginning to not feel well and it was starting to worry him, he was usual fine after his nights out. "Everyone chooses who they will and won't be, what they will and won't do". At that he got up and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. "He apparently didn't like my response" she thought. "Oh who cares?" she reasoned, "it's the truth, not my fault if he can't take it". She heard the shower come on and was slightly relived to know that he would come back to bed clean at least.