Liability Insurance
A/N: PB fanfiction (on the longer side). Again completely neglecting the COR universe. Again with R/J goodness. I know, I know. Three cheers for the people who commented on my other PB fanfics! Yay! For all of you not quite happy with Drabbles, this is something for you. Just to show that I love you.
Summary: If you can't keep up you get left behind, at least, that's what she's always thought.
Warnings: Language, blood, some killin'.
Part: 1of 2
Part One: The Eyes In the Back of My Head Are Blind
If you can't keep up you get left behind.
Simple enough concept. Simple enough rule. She'd lived with that knowledge most of her life, whether it was with her parents, or with the gang she ran with, or with other prisoners in the Slam. If you can't keep up you get left behind. Baby can't get it's own damn food, cutting into the money for momma's caffeine, it's gotta go. The runts sick, can't afford to keep her skinny ass around. Leave the new boy for the guards, that'll teach him to make to much noise.
If you can't keep up you get left behind. Every interaction with people she'd ever had drove that lesson home. Be the fastest, be the smartest, be the quietest, or you're on your on without so much as a 'good luck'. And no one makes it very long on their own, another lesson she'd learned again, and again, and again. Without the pack you die.
If you can't keep up you get left behind. The rule lay unspoken between her and Riddick, a dark threat that neither had ever mentioned. She had no illusions about Riddick staying with her no matter what, that was too much to expect from anyone, especially when she wasn't even sure she would stay with Riddick no matter what.
If you can't keep up you get left behind. She knew it. She accepted it. And so when the merc slammed her into a wall, winding his fingers into her short hair and tilting her head back while simultaneously pressing a cold sharp blade to her throat, she knew that Riddick would be gone when she opened her eyes. That she would never see him again. That she had just lost her pack.
The merc was hissing something in her ear, but she wasn't paying any attention to him. Her only immediate concern was escape. Before anything else, before she mourned her loss, before she began looking for a new pack, escape. The hand holding the knife pressed to her throat was shaking. Either the merc had a case of nerves or he was high on caffeine. That could work either for her or against her.
If you can't keep up you get left behind. And she hadn't kept up, Riddick was gone, she knew. She knew, until she opened her eyes, a second after she was slammed into the wall, and found her expectations shattered.
If you can't keep up you get left behind. So why the hell was Riddick turning around, blade in his hand? She felt her breath leave her in a rush, as though she'd been struck in the gut. And so she stared, waiting for Riddick to turn and go, watching him go against one of the few things she'd always known as Truth. Riddick took another step towards her and the merc jerked her head back farther, his voice shrill when he shouted, "You come any closer and I'm gonna slit her frigging throat, hear?"
And to her further shock, Riddick stopped, went completely and totally still, and she knew that the merc was a dead man. "Put the knife down!" She felt drops of cold sharp rain falling on her forehead, and a chill climbed up her spine. No people out. No one around to help even if they would have helped. Just her and Riddick and the merc.
"NOW!" the knife pressed into her throat, and she felt warm blood slip down her throat, and Riddick's hand opened instantly around the blade, which clattered loudly where it hit the ground. She wanted to scream at him to go, that his staying here was against what should be, what she knew should be.
"Get on your knees, and take off those goddamn goggles," the merc was calming down, getting comfortable with his plan. That was good for Jack, and she slowly moved her right hand out to brace it against the wall. The left hand she moved close, close, close to the mercs leg, as close as she could get without him feeling her, and waited.
Waited as she watched Riddick sink slowly to his knees, moving his goggles so they rested on the top of his head, revealing eyes of mercury that he had to squint against the sunset. The merc was making a soft wheezing noise that she realized was laughter. The cut on her neck burned, but she'd had worse, and shoved the pain away.
"They all told me I couldn't do it! People smarter'n me tried to get Riddick and failed, they said. People with teams and guns, they said," the wheezing noise was getting louder and she found herself wondering if maybe the merc was high on more than just caffeine. "But I knew what all those others didn't! I knew about the girl," he jerked her head closer to his for emphasis, and she took the opportunity to position her hand better for what she planned.
"I knew I'd get you because you're an animal, and I read how animals protect their mates! Not so tough now, are you!" the wheezing became so hard that the man's entire body began shaking. And Jack, doing her best to ignore the 'mate' comment, seized her opportunity, quite literally. She thrust her hand backwards, finding the man's balls easily enough and closing her fingers in a vice that immediately turned the wheezing into a high-pitched keening.
The mercs hand spastically opened on the blade, and she shoved herself away from him even as Riddick snatched his knife off the ground and stalked towards the merc. The merc, nameless, high, and stupid, made a wet gurgling sound when he died, and was then finally silent. Jack took a deep breath, and raised a hand distractedly to the wound on her neck.
Her hand came away bright crimson, and for the first time she allowed herself to wonder just how deep it was. She only had a second to wonder about it because then Riddick was in front of her, tilting her head back, his fingers dancing worriedly across her wound. He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, and she felt the vibration of it threw his fingers.
And suddenly all she could think about was the mercs last words, and how she was very nearly seventeen, and how she'd caught Riddick's eyes on her so often these last few weeks. And how a year ago Riddick had stopped returning to the ship smelling like cheap perfume, cheap wine, and cheap women. And for a moment she was very still, considering as she stared down at the top of his head.
"Riddick?"
After a moment he looked up from her wound, no longer squinting because it was twilight. "What happened to 'If you can't keep up you get left behind'?" she tried to make it a joke, but knew that she failed miserably. Everything she'd thought she knew about people had just been shaken. And she needed to know why.
He was silent for a long moment, simply staring at her with mercury eyes as the rain fell hard and the tiny cold drops mingled with the hot blood that was soaking the collar of her shirt.
And then his hand was sliding behind her head, and his lips where on hers, soft and warm and tasting absurdly, insanely, like cherries. And she was pressed against him in barely a second, and damn but she'd been waiting for this for three years, and it was about goddamn time. She felt lightheaded, dizzy, and she wondered if it was her wound or the kiss or both.
Riddick drew his lips away from hers, head cocked to one side as he looked down into her face. And the dizziness was still there which meant it was almost certainly from her wound. One side of her shirt was almost completely soaked, and she thought that probably meant that she'd lost too much blood.
"Jack?" his voice was low, rough, something that might pass for worry in it. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again to swallow, and felt her knees give. She only fell an inch, maybe two, before he caught her to his chest. The last thing she saw before her mind went black was his face, a mask of surprise and worry.
A/N: PB fanfiction (on the longer side). Again completely neglecting the COR universe. Again with R/J goodness. I know, I know. Three cheers for the people who commented on my other PB fanfics! Yay! For all of you not quite happy with Drabbles, this is something for you. Just to show that I love you.
Summary: If you can't keep up you get left behind, at least, that's what she's always thought.
Warnings: Language, blood, some killin'.
Part: 1of 2
Part One: The Eyes In the Back of My Head Are Blind
If you can't keep up you get left behind.
Simple enough concept. Simple enough rule. She'd lived with that knowledge most of her life, whether it was with her parents, or with the gang she ran with, or with other prisoners in the Slam. If you can't keep up you get left behind. Baby can't get it's own damn food, cutting into the money for momma's caffeine, it's gotta go. The runts sick, can't afford to keep her skinny ass around. Leave the new boy for the guards, that'll teach him to make to much noise.
If you can't keep up you get left behind. Every interaction with people she'd ever had drove that lesson home. Be the fastest, be the smartest, be the quietest, or you're on your on without so much as a 'good luck'. And no one makes it very long on their own, another lesson she'd learned again, and again, and again. Without the pack you die.
If you can't keep up you get left behind. The rule lay unspoken between her and Riddick, a dark threat that neither had ever mentioned. She had no illusions about Riddick staying with her no matter what, that was too much to expect from anyone, especially when she wasn't even sure she would stay with Riddick no matter what.
If you can't keep up you get left behind. She knew it. She accepted it. And so when the merc slammed her into a wall, winding his fingers into her short hair and tilting her head back while simultaneously pressing a cold sharp blade to her throat, she knew that Riddick would be gone when she opened her eyes. That she would never see him again. That she had just lost her pack.
The merc was hissing something in her ear, but she wasn't paying any attention to him. Her only immediate concern was escape. Before anything else, before she mourned her loss, before she began looking for a new pack, escape. The hand holding the knife pressed to her throat was shaking. Either the merc had a case of nerves or he was high on caffeine. That could work either for her or against her.
If you can't keep up you get left behind. And she hadn't kept up, Riddick was gone, she knew. She knew, until she opened her eyes, a second after she was slammed into the wall, and found her expectations shattered.
If you can't keep up you get left behind. So why the hell was Riddick turning around, blade in his hand? She felt her breath leave her in a rush, as though she'd been struck in the gut. And so she stared, waiting for Riddick to turn and go, watching him go against one of the few things she'd always known as Truth. Riddick took another step towards her and the merc jerked her head back farther, his voice shrill when he shouted, "You come any closer and I'm gonna slit her frigging throat, hear?"
And to her further shock, Riddick stopped, went completely and totally still, and she knew that the merc was a dead man. "Put the knife down!" She felt drops of cold sharp rain falling on her forehead, and a chill climbed up her spine. No people out. No one around to help even if they would have helped. Just her and Riddick and the merc.
"NOW!" the knife pressed into her throat, and she felt warm blood slip down her throat, and Riddick's hand opened instantly around the blade, which clattered loudly where it hit the ground. She wanted to scream at him to go, that his staying here was against what should be, what she knew should be.
"Get on your knees, and take off those goddamn goggles," the merc was calming down, getting comfortable with his plan. That was good for Jack, and she slowly moved her right hand out to brace it against the wall. The left hand she moved close, close, close to the mercs leg, as close as she could get without him feeling her, and waited.
Waited as she watched Riddick sink slowly to his knees, moving his goggles so they rested on the top of his head, revealing eyes of mercury that he had to squint against the sunset. The merc was making a soft wheezing noise that she realized was laughter. The cut on her neck burned, but she'd had worse, and shoved the pain away.
"They all told me I couldn't do it! People smarter'n me tried to get Riddick and failed, they said. People with teams and guns, they said," the wheezing noise was getting louder and she found herself wondering if maybe the merc was high on more than just caffeine. "But I knew what all those others didn't! I knew about the girl," he jerked her head closer to his for emphasis, and she took the opportunity to position her hand better for what she planned.
"I knew I'd get you because you're an animal, and I read how animals protect their mates! Not so tough now, are you!" the wheezing became so hard that the man's entire body began shaking. And Jack, doing her best to ignore the 'mate' comment, seized her opportunity, quite literally. She thrust her hand backwards, finding the man's balls easily enough and closing her fingers in a vice that immediately turned the wheezing into a high-pitched keening.
The mercs hand spastically opened on the blade, and she shoved herself away from him even as Riddick snatched his knife off the ground and stalked towards the merc. The merc, nameless, high, and stupid, made a wet gurgling sound when he died, and was then finally silent. Jack took a deep breath, and raised a hand distractedly to the wound on her neck.
Her hand came away bright crimson, and for the first time she allowed herself to wonder just how deep it was. She only had a second to wonder about it because then Riddick was in front of her, tilting her head back, his fingers dancing worriedly across her wound. He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, and she felt the vibration of it threw his fingers.
And suddenly all she could think about was the mercs last words, and how she was very nearly seventeen, and how she'd caught Riddick's eyes on her so often these last few weeks. And how a year ago Riddick had stopped returning to the ship smelling like cheap perfume, cheap wine, and cheap women. And for a moment she was very still, considering as she stared down at the top of his head.
"Riddick?"
After a moment he looked up from her wound, no longer squinting because it was twilight. "What happened to 'If you can't keep up you get left behind'?" she tried to make it a joke, but knew that she failed miserably. Everything she'd thought she knew about people had just been shaken. And she needed to know why.
He was silent for a long moment, simply staring at her with mercury eyes as the rain fell hard and the tiny cold drops mingled with the hot blood that was soaking the collar of her shirt.
And then his hand was sliding behind her head, and his lips where on hers, soft and warm and tasting absurdly, insanely, like cherries. And she was pressed against him in barely a second, and damn but she'd been waiting for this for three years, and it was about goddamn time. She felt lightheaded, dizzy, and she wondered if it was her wound or the kiss or both.
Riddick drew his lips away from hers, head cocked to one side as he looked down into her face. And the dizziness was still there which meant it was almost certainly from her wound. One side of her shirt was almost completely soaked, and she thought that probably meant that she'd lost too much blood.
"Jack?" his voice was low, rough, something that might pass for worry in it. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again to swallow, and felt her knees give. She only fell an inch, maybe two, before he caught her to his chest. The last thing she saw before her mind went black was his face, a mask of surprise and worry.