Disclaimer: I own no rights to Pitch Black/The Chronicles of Riddick, nor any of the characters therein. I make no profit from this work.
Warnings: Language! Smut! Metaphysics?
No, really, if you're offended by smut, stop reading after Jack's break.
Chapter 12
Riddick paced the expanse of his ship. Cockpit, gym, bedroom, galley, cargo bay, back up. He'd spoken to Bryan a few days ago, got that business handled. Spoken to Imam, too. Nothing to handle, there. Still no word of the girl. Yes, yes, of course Riddick would be the first to know if she turned up. Hint of fear in his voice? There should be. Holy man had fucked up, losing the kid like that. Fucked up, and she'd paid for it. Not good. No matter, now. He'd let the animal out, reasserted his place in the universe, and the blood that had caked under his nails had almost been as sweet as the Reina's dying screams…Whimpers, more like. Now, it was a simple matter of finding the kid, dragging her ass home, and knocking some sense into her. He'd kick around New Mecca for a week or so, and if she still hadn't turned up, he'd head back the way he had come and try to track her that way.
"Jackie, Jackie, Jackie…What are we gonna do about you little girl?" he whispered to the walls.
After he'd finished with the Reinas, the list had been relatively short, a few small timers who'd paid for the privilege of being entertained by Riddick's whore. That was fucking rich. Plenty of people in the 'verse had done far worse things than he had ever considered, but somehow he always ended up being the monster. Shaking his head, he stalked back to the cockpit, tuning into a news station.
With the exception of a brief replay of a statement Alexis Reina had made, there was no mention of the deaths of the twins. To make a good thing better, no one seemed to have made any possible connection to him so far. Maybe the whole "Riddick's dead" spiel was finally starting to have an effect. Seven years ago, the second the deaths were reported, his name and picture would have been popping up on news reels and vid-screens everywhere. He allowed himself a satisfied smile.
Propping his booted feet up on the console, he allowed his mind to return to the proverbial Pandora's Box that he'd labeled The Jack Problem. Logically, he understood that she was an adult now, a woman who could make her own choices, but if he closed his eyes, he still saw her as a scared kid. He could still hear her voice, exultant, telling him she'd never had a doubt. Some part of him wanted to hold on to that kid, that one person who had complete faith in him. So he would find her, deliver her to New Mecca, and move on with his life once he knew she was safe there.
His proximity alarm beeped and he strapped himself in to prepare for descent into the atmosphere of Alistera 2. This was his last drop before Helion Prime, and he was torn between wanting to make it quick and be on his way, and seeing some of the night life. He tried to recall the last time he'd had any sort of female company, and found he couldn't. He snorted. Between business and the god-damn kid, he seemed to have forgotten who was number one. He'd have to be sure to fix that, tonight.
Jack cracked an eye open and blearily surveyed her surroundings. Her legs stung and her hair was caught on something. She reached a hand out and touched…bark. She opened both eyes, face scrunched in confusion. She was in a tree. She tugged her head to loose her hair from where it had snarled on a branch. A branch because she was in a fucking TREE. Looking down, she saw an equally confused Silence, still-dreaded head full of leaves and bits of bark. Their eyes connected, ice-blue to emerald-green, before sweeping out around them.
Jack reached a hand out and found Silence's. Without words, they began to climb down. Their feet hit bare ground around the same time. They were standing on a dry, dusty pathway. To their right, a field full of grave markers, as far as the eye could see. To their left, a huge pit with a roaring fire at its center. Jack felt flakes hitting her, and looked up to see snow. When the snow touched her skin, it turned to gray, leaving her dusty. Not snow. She looked again at the pit, and realized it was full of bodies as the sickening-sweet smell hit her nostrils. She suppressed the urge to vomit.
"Welcome, daughter," came a sultry voice from behind them. They turned, as one, to face the voice. A tall woman, with long black hair shining in curls and waves down her back, greeted them. Her violet eyes sparkled with humor, and her red lips were quirked up in a crazy smile.
"We've been waiting for you, for a very long time. You're a hard person to get the attention of, Jack."
Jack balked at the fact that the woman ignored Silence, but did not speak. She found her fingers tightening around the hand of her sister-self.
"You are probably wondering why you're here, yes? Or perhaps, where here is?" The woman's eyebrow quirked, awaiting Jack's answer.
Jack, for her part, simply continued to examine the woman in front of her. Over her simple white shift dress, the woman wore a type of ancient armor that looked to be ceremonial. If it weren't for the places that had obviously been patched after penetration, Jack would have assumed it was so. The woman's arms were covered in criss-crossing hairline scars, and there was a small scar marring her otherwise perfect lips. Jack's eyes traveled to meet the woman's again, still not speaking, waiting her out.
"I am Aurora. I've known you since you were a small girl. I must say, I am pleased with how well you've turned out. Quite the little warrior, it seems. You take after your father's people."
Jack snarled at the mention of her father. "My father is Terran. His people were Irish. Not much to take after."
She laughed, and it held the sound of wind chimes. Jack fought back a shudder.
"Oh, no, dear child. You're sadly mistaken there. Your father, your real father, was Lucien. And this, as you see it, is Lucie as it is now. But you, my dear one, can change that if you're willing to listen." Her face was so sure, so serene, that it made Jack's teeth clench.
"Ok, lady, I don't know who the hell you are, or what your game is, but my bullshit meter's going haywire. I've got enough shit of my own, I don't need your metaphysics crap. This is a dream, you're not real, and I'm waking up, NOW!" Jack screwed her eyes shut, held them closed, and opened them again.
She was still standing in the field. Under the god-damn tree. Silence's skitter-scratch laugh, like dead leaves over dry ground, just served to add to her annoyance and she shot her a glare.
"Yes, Jacqueline, a most impressive display of power. Perhaps for your next trick you can pull a rabbit from a hat?" Aurora's mocking tone was gentle, and Jack liked her even less for it. She sighed, gustily.
"There will come a time, my dearest, where you will have to choose. One choice will mean saving your life and many others. The other choice will be simpler, but the results will be devastating. Make sure that you actually use that brain of yours when the time comes. You may go now."
Aurora waved her hand, gently, and Jack was falling, falling…
Jack woke with a groan as she slammed to the floor, palms first. She stabbed a glare at her bunk, some six feet up, and grumbled, pushing herself to her hands and knees. She looked over to Lyla's bunk, but the girl slept on, peaceful in her ignorance.
Jack kept up a steady flow of grumbling as she pulled on a pair of green cargo pants and padded to the galley.
"Bullshit. Crazy-ass dream, crazy-ass woman. I would slit someone's throat for one good night's sleep, I swear…"
"Well, I guess I should go back to my room, then."
Jack spun and stared at Bryan, before blushing and grinning in a sheepish manner.
"Sorry, man. I didn't mean to wake you," she mumbled.
"No worries. Making two cups?" he inquired. She nodded.
"Always."
When the coffee was done, they sat at the table, tense silence spinning out between them. It had been a week since her outburst at the news of the deaths of the Reina brothers, and they hadn't spoken much. Jack, for her part, was simply glad that he hadn't prodded her to explain her rejection of the name he'd called her. They were silent for a while, both aware of the minefield of eggshells that lay between them. Jack decided to break the silence first.
"How long were you in for?" she asked, gently. Bryan could choose to acknowledge or ignore the question, she wasn't pushing.
He looked up, locking eyes with her. He'd never mentioned prison time to either of the girls, hadn't really spoken of it with anyone other than Evan, but somehow, with her strange intuition that he was just now adapting to, Sabriel had known. He continued to call her that, disregarding her outburst. She'd speak of it when she was ready…or not.
He looked away first, finding her eyes unnerving. "Three years. It was stupid. I got caught boosting, and I wouldn't roll on my friends. Wasn't even a max, but I've never been in since, and I don't plan to."
She nodded, sipping her coffee. "It's the eyes that give it away, you know," she offered, answering his unspoken question. "Have you ever seen animals in the zoo? There's this…fire in their eyes, like they can remember a time when they were free, and you would've been dinner. Cons get that fire, and I don't think it ever leaves them."
They fell quiet, Sabriel looking contemplative. Bryan, for his part, was wondering just how many convicts she'd run into in her lifetime to be able to make such a firm statement on their nature. He didn't ask, putting that question on the same shelf as her name. She'd tell if she wanted. There was one question that had been burning on his tongue for a long while, since he realized where she had come from.
"What's it like?" he asked, finally. She stared at him, face questioning. "Killing someone," he whispered.
She let her breath out in a soft puff and continued to stare at him before she looked away with a soft snort and a roll of her eyes. They traveled to the ceiling, and she left them there, focusing on some small scratch in the metal. She rolled her neck and met his eyes again.
"What's it like to kill someone…" she whispered his question in a tone of wonder, making it sound like a statement. Her pink tongue flicked out, wetting her lower lip. After a time, she shrugged, placing her empty mug on the table in front of her.
"What's it like to have an orgasm?" she countered. Bryan felt heat flood his face.
"Uh…I mean…What?" he stammered out, thrown off guard by her bold question.
"What you just asked me is a thousand…No…A million times more personal, so I figured maybe we were on that level." Sabriel's voice was laden with sarcasm, her eyes flashing him a fiery challenge.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked," he offered apologetically. She nodded, a quick jerk of her chin, lips set into a firm line. She stood, making to leave the galley, before fixing him with another sharp stare.
"If you don't know what it's like," she whispered, "Then I sincerely hope you never find out."
With that, she stalked away, leaving Bryan with more questions than he had started with.
Riddick could tell by the way the light reflected off her hair that it was blonde. The way it crackled at the ends where they brushed her face told him that blonde was fake. Her voice, as she prattled on about something, aimed for seductive but fell short, came out nasally with a bit of a whine. She was telling him something about…school, he thought. He wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying, just the way her lips shaped the words. She had good lips, full without looking unnatural. Good skin, too, it looked smooth under the dim lights of the bar. Almost too smooth, and this led him to wonder how old she was. Her breasts were pressed tight against the silk tank top she wore, and the shadows of her cleavage made his mouth water. He took an experimental sniff, and beneath the too-strong flowery perfume, he smelled it. She was hot for him, and already wet with it. Perfect.
She had stopped talking at some point, and he hadn't noticed. He knocked back the rest of his drink and licked his lips, fixing her with a predatory smile. Her pulse sped, and her breath puffed out over her lips in a silent gasp.
"How old are you, Sunshine?" he purred at her. The shock registered on her face, just for a moment. She hadn't been expecting his question.
"22," she responded finally, perplexed. Fuck, she's barely any older than Jack he thought grimly. He looked at her for another moment, thinking. In the end, he decided that he'd leave it up to her. He threw some creds on the table and stood, stopping by her side of the booth, waiting. She stared up at him, lips opened slightly, and he watched the indecision play across her face. He nodded, and went to walk away, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. She stood, and her forehead barely crested his collarbone. Riddick took a moment to let his eyes travel down her body. Perfect tits, nice waist, rounded hips. Baby-makers, Jack would have called them. A flash of mischievous eyes danced across his mind. Fuuuck, kid, get out of my head.
Then, there was no time for deep thinking, because the girl was linking her hand in his and leading him out of the bar and down the street to a small apartment building. He followed her up the stairs, appreciating the sway of her hips. At her door, he let his hand reach out and slide down the curve of her ass, reveled in her small shudder.
She stepped in to her apartment, calling for lights. Once they were both inside, she turned to throw the lock and he moved into her space, pressing her up against the door. His lips sought hers out, assaulting them with a brutal kiss that had her moaning low in her throat. His hands wrapped around her waist, trailed down to her hips, down further to cup her ass. She moaned again when he lifted her, and wrapped her legs around him. He growled quietly when he felt her hot center press tight to him.
"Bedroom?" he asked quietly in her ear, letting his breath surge warm over her delicate skin. She let out a whimper and pointed with her free hand while her other was fumbling at his belt. He headed in the direction, kicking the door open, trailing his lips and tongue down her neck.
He tossed her on the bed, watched her as she kicked off her high heels and pulled her skirt up around her hips. She didn't bother to undress further before she reached for him, tugging the button of his pants and lowering his zipper.
He grabbed her hands, pressing them to the mattress above her head, before attacking her lips again, grinding against her. Her breath was coming out in harsh pants and she was letting out little mewling cries against his lips. He moved down to her neck, scraping his teeth against the hollow of her throat. She moaned again, digging her nails into his shoulders. He moved lower, biting one of her nipples through the material of her shirt. He felt her feet slipping into his waistband, sliding his pants down.
His hand went his back pocket, slipping out a small foil-wrapped package. He moved to the other side, giving her twin peak equal attention. He could practically feel her body humming with tension as he ripped the package open and made short work of it.
He slid up her body, cupping her and pushing her further up the bed. Kneeling between her legs, he kissed her again, deeper, a battle of teeth and tongues and lips. Breaking away, he stared down at her, taking in her flushed face, the blush that seemed to extend past her collarbones and into her shirt. He tugged at the material, freeing her breasts, and he massaged them roughly.
"How?" he ground out, already knowing the answer.
"Rough," she panted out against his lips before trapping one between her teeth.
Riddick was more than happy to oblige.
Later, as she lay sleeping, he pulled his discarded cargoes back on. He reached out; let a finger trail down her thigh, played at the bite mark he'd left there at some point. With a satisfied smirk, he let himself out and headed back towards his ship. It had been a good week. He'd gotten bloody, he'd gotten laid, and now he was on his way to New Mecca and, hopefully, Jack. His smirk widened into a grin as he pictured the fight that was bound to happen.
A/N: Huh. Urm. So, I've never actually written anything like a "love" scene before. Initially, I had this pictured going a different way, wrote it out, and that felt completely unrealistic. This felt more in-line with how I picture Riddick. Nope, I didn't really name her, since this is a one-night thing, thus unimportant in the long run. So, as always, lovely readers, let me know what you think. Even if it's "stick to violence, your smut sucks." : D Except, maybe try to be more eloquent than that, haha.
~~Nifty~~
Acknowledgements
LiasonFan2 : -blush- Thank you, lovely. I'm trying to make the dialogue/perspective feel natural, and it's nice to know when it's successful (or not)
MercuryAshlingPrincess: Yay! Jigging! The next few chapters are already written, so updates will probably be happening with a marginally higher frequency than they have been.
JamesRamsey: I'm glad you enjoyed it. I worked hard on this one, and tried to keep it realistic. The personalities thing is going to play a very important role in upcoming chapters, and while I'm taking a lot of liberties with her mental state, I'm still trying to convey that it's no picnic.
MissConceptions: Soon is getting closer! I hope the wait's worth it. And, yes, D.I.D. (aka M.P.D.) is commonly portrayed as this…easy to deal with thing, and it simply…Isn't. At all. I'm trying to do justice to the disease despite that fact that I'm using a broad (and sometimes not true) interpretation of it.
Elizabeth Cords: Oh, dear lady, how I look forward to your reviews. They're definitely on the list of "night-makers". Thank you for my pass ~.^ Hope this chapter makes up for the lack in the last. And yes…Mojitos=…Mamacitas? Hehe.
schafer: Oh, what fantastic questions. I can't answer the first two, since they kind of get addressed soon, but the third (set) I can! I make up all my OC's, do outlines and quick sketches of them before starting to include them in the story. I try to make them read as people, not Mary Sues/Marty Stues. Once in a great while, I'll write one based on a friend in real life, though.
zilly-pill: Thank you, thank you! I tend to re-read chapters a good five times before I post them, and try to stay as in character as possible. I hope you continue enjoying it with me.
Minah: Welcome, and many thanks! Haha, it's killing me a bit, especially since I've got some written and can't share, yet. I'm glad you're liking it.
