Disclaimer: Pitch Black and all its' characters are not mine. We all know this sad fact of life. Just like we all know the only thing we have to gain is our own enjoyment.

AN: Ok, guys, I got so many great reviews (thanks, by the way, we all need the love) that I got this chapter out of my head much faster than I normally do. Hope you all like it.

Chapter 6

Riddick followed Jack into her apartment, locking the door behind him. He watched as she sat on the couch, noting his anger and the locked door.

"So, Jack, planning on going somewhere?"

"Yeah, actually. Felt like a vacation, wanted to check my options. I would've thought getting laid would have been preferable to following me."

"Wanted to make sure you didn't bolt on me. Not like you really had anything here that couldn't be replaced." She stood up and raked her hands through her hair.

"Fine, I don't believe in having a matching dining room set, so what? What do you want to know, Riddick? Huh?" He approached her slowly, giving himself time to control his anger. He walked around the room, closing shades as he went, so that when he was finally in front of her, he could lift his goggles and look at her with his shined eyes.

"I want to know why you are such a bitch, how you got that way. Why you could drop everything and run without having to pack first. Why your life with Imam didn't work out. Take your pick. Or better yet, start at the fucking beginning!", he roared at her. Her eyes widened before she shoved at his chest to get some space between them.

"You pompous ass! I don't owe you shit anymore! I already paid you back in spades years ago, but if you were really interested, you would have been talking to Imam for the last seven years. Imam always knows where I am, he knows why I left, so if you had any REAL interest in my life, you would already know everything already! Shit, I've accepted the fact that you don't care, that you were never going to be around, so why are you pretending to care now?!" For the first time she regretted having nothing in her living room; there was nothing to throw. She settled for a kick that turned the couch onto its' back side.

"I'm here now, Jack. And I'm curious now. I left so that you wouldn't end up on a shitball like this. I never expected to see you on any of the shitballs I'm hiding on. So tell my why we're on the same planet, Jack, because apparently the last seven years of hiding has been for shit!"

"Bullshit! You said you wanted to be left alone, not that you were hiding. Oh, I'm sure you're always hiding, but it's not because of me, so don't you dare put all this on me, like you gave up this great thing so I could have a life!" The couch went sliding another few feet under the force of her boot, which only gave him more room to maneuver.

"You're still not telling me anything, Jack. You're talking around in circles. Maybe you've forgotten who you're dealing with, here." He grabbed her by the arms and lifted her until she was level with his eyes. She was not short by any means for a woman, but he still had almost a foot of height on her. He looked into her furious eyes and smirked at her.

"Aww, were you hurt when I never came back, never called, Jack? You thought maybe you were something special to me? Did I break your heart, Jack?" She responded by spitting in his face. Enraged, he threw her at the wall, watching as she flew through the air, bounced off, and hit the ground. Wiping his face, he gave her time to stand up, silently giving her credit for being able to be steady on her feet. He had not thrown her gently.

"Look, this's very simple, Jack. Tell me what I want to know, and you can get back to your sad little life, or lack thereof. Don't make me go visit Imam to find out." He was baiting her intentionally, taunting her with something he could, but never would do. She surprised him by laughing.

"C'mon, Riddick. Did you really think I believe that shit? That you would go hurt the one man who ever gave you any respect, simply because you were a man, to get a few details that you couldn't get outta me? No, you couldn't hurt the Holy Man, only mercs are that low. And you will never stoop to their level, will you Big E? Sorry, guess you're just going to haveta beat it outta me, 'cause I ain't givin' you shit. You don't deserve it." He went for her throat, intending on bouncing her head off the wall a few more times, but she stepped inside his arm and swung her elbow across his nose, rolling away. He looked at her incredulously, wiping the blood away and flinging it onto the floor.

"Fine, we'll do this the fun way. I don't see why it's so hard to just tell me, little girl. And I deserve everything for going back for your ass on that planet!" He swung a huge fist, rocking her head back. Mindful that she could lash out at any of his stitched areas, he seized her arms and slammed her against the wall, hearing it crack behind her. She snapped her forehead onto his nose, and he roared as it cracked and bent sideways. As much as he wanted to slam her head into the wall again, he knew another hit could seriously injure her head, so he settled for an uppercut into her diaphragm. She grunted as the air was forcefully pushed, painfully expelled from her lungs, but aimed a precise kick to his knee before sinking to her knees. While he felt the kick, he ignored the pain and the anger that it caused him, trying to keep his temper in check. He grabbed her by the throat and squeezed, hoping to make her pass out quickly. Her fists collided with both sides of his head, one bouncing off and hitting his broken nose. Enraged, he slammed her against the wall, watching with satisfaction as her face turned red. She fought it as long as she could, trying to stay conscious. Jack tried to get another shot to his head and he merely took her wrist in his hand and squeezed it until it broke. A horrible, breathless croak was all the scream she could manage. Her eyes shot down to his leg quickly before she jabbed her knee at his inner thigh, purposely missing the stitches on the top of his thigh, hoping to unbalance him. Thinking she had aimed for his stitches, he punched her in the gut hard, but not hard enough to break anything. Another croak was forced from her throat, and she turned her eyes to his. They were slightly bulging, but he could still see the satisfaction in them. Wondering why she had not lost consciousness long before, he suddenly realized that her heart beat was off. His anger suddenly cleared enough for logical thought. When he strangled people, their hearts raced, their bodies fighting tooth and nail against the oxygen starvation. Her heart had slowed to the point that he had to listen carefully to hear it beat. She was intentionally slowing her heart down, but why? To stay conscious longer? That wouldn't accomplish anything, she had to know he would win sooner or later; she couldn't last forever. She wasn't pretending to be unconscious, so she wasn't trying to fool him. Was she trying to die?! If he hadn't noticed, and she stayed conscious long enough, he would have continued to strangle her until she was dead. His hand immediately opened and her body fell to the floor. Her legs buckled without a fight, and as she was unable to cushion or control how she fell, her head crunched against the floor. He continued to stare down at her, trying to convince himself that she was not trying to die, to trick him into killing her. Sure, it was pretty obvious that her life sucked, but it could be so much worse. Surely she knew that! He picked her up carefully and listened to her heart, satisfied when it started to beat furiously, returning oxygen to her body as quickly as possible. He kicked the couch back onto its' feet and laid her out, heading for the bedroom. She wanted to get off the planet, fine. She would. And he would get his answers.