Chapter 3

tabula rasa [ˈˌtäb(y)o͝olə ˈräzə]
NOUN
-an absence of preconceived ideas or predetermined goals; a clean slate.

-the human mind, especially at birth, viewed as having no innate ideas.

They'd gotten the food put away and most of her things back in the passenger quarters when she folded her arms and looked at him. "Slamcity," One dark eyebrow arched inquisitively and he sighed. He might have known she'd catch his response to news of the Feds.

Deciding to drop the Border/Rim accent he'd been affecting since meeting her, he stated the obvious, "You're not the only one the Feds are after."

"Your reaction was enough to enlighten me about that," She made a face at him. At least it was an expression.

"Still not scared of me," He observed thoughtfully. "Can't decide if that makes you stupid or more perceptive than most."

"Reader," She tapped her temple meaningfully. "Part of why I chose your ship. You are…disciplined. There's only one of you and you're not… well." She frowned, "Meaning no insult, you're not normal."

He shrugged and studied her in return. "Richard B. Riddick at your service." Her lack of reaction to his name was a little anti-climactic. "Escaped convict, murderer, Furyan."

"That's why Purplebellies worried you," She seemed to relax slightly.

"And also, why they wouldn't have caught me," He smirked. "I've got a reputation for slipping out of every prison they've put me in. Pretty much educated in the penal system, but I read."

"First time you've lied." Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she regarded him, and her scent sharpened, "You knew what an Operative was, you even commented that it was trouble few would know. Or live through. How do you know that? Only a Fed or government man would know that. Someone uneducated wouldn't."

He flipped a knife through his fingers as he considered his answer, watching her. Her eyes flicked to the blade but returned to his face as if the weapon was of no concern. Again, stupid or perceptive, it was hard to tell. Or maybe she was just that good. But…Reader… he'd have to remember that. Even if she didn't hear his every thought, his emotions and body language would be easy enough to figure out. He could conceal his reactions but it had been a long time since he'd dragged that level of discipline out from the dregs of his memory. "I was educated in the penal system. Mostly. Operatives… they're trained out on the moon of Sigma Three. They call it Strikeforce Academy…and some of what they do is turn out advance teams, scouts, officers… But that's just the screening process for the Operative program. They try to strip you of your memories, emotions, make you someone who obeys commands. The hand to their brain."

"Met one before," River nodded her understanding. "Lacked the ability to make intuitive leaps. No context means lack of connection between data points. The results are…flawed."

"Yeah." He shrugged, "Whatever they did… it took. At least for a while. Then I started…not obeying. Went against orders, got sent to Deep Storage for my trouble. Broke out."

"Furyan," She mused. "Haven't heard of that world."

"Folks here called it Miranda," He scowled. It hadn't been bad enough that the Necros wiped out most of his race. The Alliance had swooped in and taken over the planet. Nature abhors a vacuum and all. He'd never understood why the Necros had come into this system and then left after only taking one planet. Not until later.

When he'd begun flying again he'd gotten on the cortex and despite the way it made his eyes ache he'd researched. The systems the Necros kept converting were all so far apart that cryo was the only way to travel unless you built generation ships. It kept the worlds from communicating effectively, gave the Necros the edge. Continuous surprise attacks.

In comparison this set of systems was crowded together. You could sail from one outer rim to the other side in less than a week if you did a hard burn. The Necros would have had a big problem on their hands. Everyone here was hooked into the cortex somehow. It would only take a day at the most for word to travel if the Necros attacked an outer planet. Then every ship in the system would be on alert. Parliament took that sort of thing very seriously and they had enough of an armada that the Necros might just meet their end before due time.

"Reaver territory," River murmured. "Wouldn't have thought it a planet once called Furya."

"They did some more terraforming on it after my people were wiped out," Riddick told her. "Not that it'll last long with the suns being the way they are and triple moons. Tides'll be crazy and the tectonic plates will shift again. All those pretty buildings'll come down."

"Become Furya again," She smiled at the thought. "Could find a way to make it happen sooner rather than later."

"Nah," He shook his head. "Apart from how much it would cost and everyone in the 'verse figuring out what was going on, best thing is to let nature take its course."

"Haven't heard much of Necros."

Her forehead was wrinkling in concentration and he chuckled. "That was the only world they hit here. It would have been long before your time."

"The World Shakers?" She was thinking, her forehead furrowed with it and he guessed she was trying to recall whatever it was she'd heard about Necros, following a thread of memory.

"Yeah, they hit the Helion system about eight or nine, might've been ten, years ago," He shrugged. "I lost track of 'em five years after that."

"Part of the reason the Alliance hasn't fought another war after the Miranda wave is they lack the capacity," River told him quietly. "Rim worlds had been receiving refugees, cryo ships getting hit by the Reavers, everyone knew something was coming." She pulled a portable dedicated sourcebox out of a bag by her feet and opened it, folding it back so the screen projected up over the display. "The Alliance gathered every ship, every pilot they could muster, and there were quite a few. Pulled old, decommissioned ships out of the boneyards."

"Yeah?" He looked at the area she had brought up. Kalidisa system, the outlying planets and protostars, some planets still being terraformed.

"It was quiet," She tapped the screen and brought up the area magnified. "But the Alliance hasn't fought another war over Miranda because they're still rebuilding the fleet. It took every modern ship they had and bombing a world into a black rock when the main ship landed. But I think your Necromongers have met their end."

He considered the likelihood of that for a moment, "Be interested to see that so-called black rock. Make sure they actually put the Necros down. Those fuckers are worse than roaches."

She wrinkled her nose but nodded. "Fair point."

Riddick leaned back, folding his arms. "Got one more question. Exactly why did you get so pissed and decide to leave? One meal we're laughing and teasing, you're telling me about Companions, your old crew, the next… I've been on artic planets that were warmer."

Her expression stiffened, "I told you. I didn't want to play your game anymore. You got me to talk, flattered me by implying that I was attractive enough to be a Companion. When I showed you the picture of Inara you said you understood what I meant." Plainly she believed that was explanation enough.

Riddick growled slightly, "Yeah. You said Companions were all perfect." He remembered the sweet warmth of her blush and how spicy her scent had been, abruptly going cold when he commented on the capture. "What? How'n the hell's saying you were right, she looked all slicked up and perfect, like butter wouldn't met in her mouth, a bad thing?"

Her sigh was pure exasperation and she rolled her eyes, "Got me blushing. Flattered. Implied I was beautiful. Then said that."

"Yeah? How's that bad?" Now he was getting irked, "Still don't see the comparison. Paint and polish and veneer or you. Who'd want her when they could have you?"

"Many, many men and women." She shook her head, sighing, "To be compared to a Companion is to be found wanting." She had the air of someone explaining basic math to an architect, not condescending but as if this was something he should know already. "Companions are considered the pinnacle of poise and elegance. They're often employed to teach a young lady propriety, among other things, before they make their debut in society. Polishing them, like a personal finishing school."

"I'm still not seeing it," Riddick thought back to that cool brunette beauty and compared it with the rapier of a woman in front of him. It'd be like drinking sarsaparilla instead of pure spring water. "Is everyone in the Core an idiot?"

"Not everyone has his unique perspective," She shrugged and stood, beginning to unpack the spices she'd purchased and put them into the cabinets.

"Most people are morons," Riddick began to help her. "Takes a real idiot to prefer something fake to something real." He watched her for a moment and half smiled, "So. Told you who I am. Mind saying who you are? River…?"

Her smile was impish as she held out her hand, "River D Tam, psychic, assassin, dancer."

"Helluva resume," His smile widened to a grin. "Nice to meet you," He took her hand and recalling that old training, bowed over it like an Operative would have.

Her laugh felt like music against his skin.

Odd… She watched him as he began to set a new course for Constance and climbed under the console. "Know anything about cortex work beside husking a landlock," He tossed the question in her direction as he pulled a panel down.

"What do you need?" She entered the bridge and knelt next to his thighs.

"Gonna pull the thermal cap, shut it down, use the sun's gravitational pull to keep us going in the right direction," Riddick grunted as he untwisted something. "Need you to shut the console down. Rewire so the ident board is bypassed."

"And you want me to just lie on top of you to do that or do you plan to move," River inquired dryly, peering under the console to see his face. Oops…slightly more sarcasm than was strictly polite. He didn't seem to mind though.

That lightning grin, splitting his face and in spite of their situation, a rough wicked laugh, "Wouldn't mind you climbing on top of me. But let's save that for after we're fixed up." He slid out from under the console, moved over and let her climb under before pointing out the boards and explaining what he needed. "Got it?"

"Shì," River studied the boards and nodded. "Won't take long. Shut it down."

"Doin' that right now," He pressed a few more buttons and the ship went dark around them. "Gotta check the engine room, do some work back there."

"Thirty minutes, possibly forty to an hour, depending upon complications," River had begun work the minute he shut the ship down. She felt more than saw his incredulous look and added dryly. "Genius."

"Right," He chuckled again and headed back to the engine room, his step light as a cat's.

She concentrated on the work he needed done, rewiring the boards and bypassing the ship's ident chip, highly illegal, but very effective. It had to be done before the ship cooled down so much that her fingers began to go numb. Working in subzero temperatures was not optimal.

His mind had focused on his tasks, laser sharp and without distraction. Earlier…lifting off after she'd gotten the landlock off them he'd been the same. That hyper-focus she'd only felt in a few other people. Wash when he was flying… she took a breath and spared a thought for him, hoping he'd finally gotten a better prosthetic arm and the shoulder reconstruction he'd needed. Simon during surgery… and Mal… when they'd left Haven.

Rick though… Riddick, she'd have to remember that he seemed to prefer his surname, his focus was constant. Whatever task it was, he focused upon it for as long as it took to accomplish it, and then he moved on. At least…that's what she surmised. His thoughts became more clear when accompanied by a strong emotion, or when he was thinking of her.

That gaze… that sharp gaze that had snapped to her when she'd come gasping back onto the boat. He'd believed her. Instantly he'd known she was telling the truth. And then… that conversation… He'd scrutinized everything she said, eyes on her face, inhaling now and then and she'd known her scent told him as much as her abilities told her.

All that business, questions, history…and then he had asked the question that seemed to matter to him more than anything else. Why had she been so cold… River frowned over her work, double-checked it and slid out from under the console. "Done," She called from the top of the stairs.

That got him coming back from the engine room, "Already?" He came up the stairs in long strides and those big hands settled on her hips, gently turning her aside, chest brushing against hers and her breath caught in her throat. Heat…he was so warm. Like an inferno burned inside him. That look, nostrils flaring as he stared down at her for a half second that seemed to last an hour. "Wèi le tā mā de yuán gù, we are going to address this, at some point when we get our breath," Riddick growled down at her as he checked her work under the console and began to bring the ship back to life.

"Anything else I can do," River chose not to reply to that somewhat enigmatic remark in favor of addressing the issue of their relative safety. Ignoring the hotly tingling sensation his touch had ignited proved to be more difficult.

"Keep an eye on the board, make sure the console doesn't start shorting out when I put the panel back on," He slid back under the console with one powerful push of his arms and began doing something else to the underside of it, adding. "The whole thing is a little touchy. A full rewire is on the list but finding parts was not easy back when I got the boat."

It wasn't difficult to keep her eyes on the screens and lights until he growled in irritation and his shirt rode up his ribcage as he argued with some part beneath the pilot's station. Smooth creamed coffee skin, muscles tense with effort, so clearly defined as he worked. The lights flickered and she jerked her eyes back to the console and frowned, "The screen and lights just flickered. They're steady again. Do you need help?"

"If they do it again we've got a problem but no, for now you're good," He snarled at the boards. "C'mon you tā mā de fèi tóng làn tiě." Muscles tensed again before he relaxed and paused a moment, "Still good?"

"No flickers," River assured him.

"Then we're good," He slid out from under the console and pushed himself to his feet in one smooth motion and leaned over her shoulder to key in a code. "Yep, everything is running. Any comm buoy we pass'll read us as a blip."

"Nice," River nodded appreciatively. "Hungry?"

"Starved," He nodded.

"I'll get something started," She turned towards the door, conscious of his eyes on her, burning into her spine before she left his sight.

A quick meal that resembled ramen with a beef and vegetable stir fry and she was quietly announcing to an empty kitchen that the meal was ready. He'd left the door to the bridge open, unlike her previous days traveling with him and came down the small flight of stairs immediately.

"Smells good," Riddick commented grabbing glasses and pouring them both tea. "You need to let me know what you spent on food and spices."

River looked at him curiously, "Why?"

"Because you're feeding me and I'm pretty sure this stuff ain't cheap," He set bowls out and grabbed chopsticks.

"Wasn't listening when I said rich?" River arched an eyebrow at him curiously.

"Doesn't matter," Eyes the color of iron stared at her. "You're a passenger. You shouldn't be paying for food that I'm devouring."

"You still consider me to be only a passenger?" Why did a chill slip down her spine? Just because they were both in danger and had worked well together to get away didn't mean he thought of her as anything more.

"Not crew, haven't said you want to be," He shook his head, those eyes seeing so much more than she liked. "Wouldn't mind if you did. Especially if you keep cooking like this." He inhaled the scent of the food and half smiled. "Haven't ever had a crew. You mind that caveat?"

She shrugged diffidently but half smiled, "No one ever liked that I could cook before." Twirling noodles into his bowl and topping them with the beef protein mixture she handed it to him. "Think I'd like to try it out."

"All right," He nodded. "Your old crew didn't let you cook for them?" That smooth skull tilted to the side as he watched her dish up her own portion.

"Crazy," She shrugged. "Didn't really have a place there. Loved, and accepted but not…really crew."

"So, what'd you do there then? Why do you want to find them so bad?" He seemed genuinely interested, twirling noodles around his chopsticks and eating as he watched her.

"Pilot man was injured during the Miranda wave, lost his arm at the shoulder, needed surgery, rehabilitation, prosthetic arm. Replaced the lung and several ribs and bones," River remembered how pale Zoë had been, how long it had taken Wash to stay awake more than five minutes at a time. "Was able to help fly Serenity. But he is the Pilot. Human replacement parts aren't cheap, his arm is…not optimal. And his shoulder would benefit from further surgeries."

"You got along with the gunhand though?" Riddick was focusing on her now, that same assessing gaze he turned on cargo, engine trouble, course charting and other issues. "They couldn't use another hand?"

"I was useful on occasion, but my brother resisted me being a full member of the crew… most strenuously," She shook her head.

"Doesn't answer my question of why you'd want to go back so bad," He sipped his tea.

"Felt at home there," She shrugged. "Safer there than anywhere else."

"Guess that's as good a reason as any," He nodded his understanding still watching her. "Got a crush on the gunhand?"

River stared at him, "Did I say that?"

Iron eyes brightened to silver in amusement, "Nope. But your brother must've seen something that made him worry."

She rolled her eyes in irritation, "Saw us sparring. The only one big enough and fast enough to give me a decent fight. Saw him appreciate my legs and pì gu. My brother thought I was innocent and unaware. Didn't like him looking at me. Couldn't forget earlier behavior. Found him immoral, uncouth and barbaric. Trained ape, without the training."

"Guess he wouldn't like me much either," He huffed a half laugh, shaking his head. "How is it he didn't follow you?"

"Working. Always working at the hospital, doing the work he loves," River shook her head. "Back to the life he knew. Stability. To make certain change is wanted and needed."

"He…rescued you, from that Academy," Riddick said slowly. "Brought you someplace you felt safe, with people who treated you close to family, and then when you were better, he took you back home again and went back to his life."

"Gave up everything for me once," River smiled sadly. "Thought I'd be happy, being home, with universities and classes and cerebral pastimes, ballet and theatre and books. Parents. Didn't understand he'd taken me from the trees and put me in a cage. Ballerina in a music box."

"Doesn't sound like he knows you all that well anymore," That steady gaze saw too much. Her stomach twisted under the heat of his look and his nostrils flared again as he inhaled. She shrugged and he kept those eyes on her face. "Never did answer," He reminded her. "Had a crush on the gunhand? Or was it the Captain?"

She blushed remembering the look she'd gotten at Mal after Saffron had left him naked in the desert. "Not…a crush…"

"In love with one of them?" Such an odd tone to his voice, as if he didn't quite believe what he was asking was even possible.

"You don't believe in it," River blinked as she caught the edge of his thoughts. Love being for children and people who had normal lives. "Not for people like us."

"Doesn't mean that you don't believe," Riddick shrugged. "Gonna answer the question? Those pink cheeks argue you've got some sorta feelings for one of them."

She shook her head, "A little crush, on the Captain. Killed off mostly… when I saw him with Inara. His thoughts… Knew he'd never see me like that. The Academy…taught me that romantic notions are…folly." She laughed quietly, "Got a good look at him naked when I was still crazy. Heist went a bit wrong and he got left in the desert without clothing," She added in explanation. "Treated me like a daughter or little sister."

"Yeah, that'll kill any unrequited feeling really quick," He flashed her a quick grin. "Didn't even try to make him see you were an adult?"

"Skinny, short, nothing like Inara," River shrugged. "Could have stripped naked and he would have just been embarrassed. Looked anywhere but at me and handed me something to cover up."

"Man's an idiot," Riddick shook his head. "Still don't understand how anyone could be interested in a Companion when you're in the same room and sane. Crazy…yeah, it'd be like takin' advantage of a kid. But once you were sane…" He eyed her up and down, a frankly admiring and evaluating gaze. "Yeah, seriously idiotic."

"Very flattering," River shook her head. "But unnecessary." She stood and refilled his bowl, setting it in front of him and one of those big hands settled on her waist.

"I don't lie," He said flatly. "Not unless I have to for some reason. No reason to lie to you."

"Been a long time without a woman," She suggested.

"I've gone a lot longer," He chuckled. "How about you?"

"Haven't been with a woman," She tilted her head at him curiously and half smiled her amusement at the resulting flare of lust he felt at the suggestion of her with a woman in bed. "But I've had…appointments with males. Now and then."

"Appointments," He sat back in his chair, that big palm still pressing to her waist. "Like with a Companion?"

"Of course," Who did he think she would have slept with? Some random male off the docks or a bar? What would be the point when she'd have no guarantee of their skill level?

"That's…enjoyable for you? Being able to Read them and know it's just business?" Riddick seemed to have some odd ideas about Companions.

"Might have been business but they were focused on me, on what I needed and how they could take care of me," River shrugged. She hadn't cared for the emotional distance but the concern of a Companion for a client went a long way towards easing that issue. And once engaged, they'd taken great care to be sure she was satisfied.

"Even knowing it was only for that appointment, that it wasn't real?"

"Men find it difficult to pretend attraction and still perform unless they're taking a drug to maintain an erection," River shrugged at him again. Her mother would hate the ambiguity and casual nature of the gesture but it conveyed her lack of concern well enough.

"Guess that's your type then, Core men, all smooth and handsome," Riddick nodded his understanding. "Makes sense, seeing how you were raised. You'd feel comfortable with them."

"In part," River finished her noodles and sipped her tea. "I knew exactly what to expect. I knew they'd be certain I enjoyed the experience. Skills that made up for whatever I might have felt they were lacking in emotional connection. And since Companions choose their clients they found me attractive on some level." She eyed him thoughtfully, "Why is this such an area of interest? I've seen you in bars with women. Luscious looking blondes seem to be the type you favor."

"Guess I just…don't understand sex without basic chemistry," He shook his head. "Guess it just…seems like you're paying someone to be a sex toy."

"Sex toys rarely have a body to go with the erection and don't take direction well," River retorted dryly.

He sputtered a laugh as he tried to swallow his tea without spitting it all over the table, "Damn woman." Silver eyes gleamed in amusement. "Have you ever been with a normal guy? Found someone in a bar, thought they were hot and took them home for a night of fun?"

It was her turn to laugh. "Oh, you mean when I was crazy? Or when I finally became sane but living under the watchful eye of the entire overprotective crew and my gē ge? Or maybe when I was on Osiris and living with my parents." She rolled her eyes at him, "Mother and Father would have been…appalled and scandalized. A Companion is…appropriate. Almost expected. But a strange man whose character, lineage and profession hadn't been thoroughly scrutinized and cleared? Someone who might be of a lower class?"

"Not done huh," He grinned at her wickedly.

"Soooo not done," She agreed with a soft chuckle. "So, to answer your question, no. No normal guys. Companions only."

It'd be like him only going to whores, knowing they were paid to be interested. Sure they wanted to make money and no one wanted an uncomfortable/painful experience so some level of enjoyment and participation was expected but he could tell when a woman was going through the motions with him. He'd have thought a Reader would have found that even more repugnant than he did.

She made a face, wrinkling her nose, "Not wrong." She pulled away from his hand finally, putting her empty glass and bowl in the sink. "But Companions choose their clients. I had no appointments with anyone who did not find me at least superficially attractive." That's right, she'd mentioned that before.

"Guess that's something," Riddick watched her move and remembered that surge of spice and heat in her scent when he'd squeezed past her on the bridge. While he'd worked under the control panels her scent had filled the bridge until only his concentration on the task at hand and the knowledge that if it wasn't done they'd both be in a slam kept him from getting a hard-on that would have tented his damn pants.

He couldn't help wondering exactly what type of guy she'd find attractive. He'd heard male Companions were elegant, cultured, very Core looking men. If that was what she liked…why that little flare of want when he'd touched her?

Maybe he'd find out some time.

Despite it being early hours River excused herself and went to her room after the meal. He couldn't blame her, a scare like that, hard work and then what amounted to a mutual interrogation stirring up memories and emotions would wear anyone out.

He'd never bothered with sound proofing on the boat. No point when he needed to hear the engines. He preferred to know what was going on with his passengers. Once or twice he'd taken on someone who'd had designs on the ship and his hearing had kept him from taking a knife or a bullet.

Sitting in the galley with a cup of tea and a book seemed like the best way to pass the time until he felt tired enough to go to bed. The Cutter wasn't set up with the largest galley. There was enough space for a table, four chairs and a short couch against the wall at the top of the stairs down to the cargo bay. Since the door to her room was at the base of the stairs to the bridge, he could hear her moving around, unpacking most likely and then some quiet.

A soft noise, like a gasp, drew his attention from the book and he glanced at her door. Another, slightly louder, like a moan and he heard the bed shift slightly. Nightmares? If her Academy was anything like Strikeforce… Another reason for reading before he got tired. Give his mind something else to think about before he slept. He had enough problems with dreams without adding that into the mix through carelessness.

Riddick frowned and stood, moving closer to her door, and took a seat on the bottom of the stairs. If she started weeping or screaming he'd override the lock and wake her up.

Another moan…and this close to her door, a tantalizing scent. Hot, musky, honey and spice and she moaned again. Nothing to concentrate on besides a book he'd read twice already and that scent had his diǎo going so hard he nearly groaned. That scent… She was getting herself off.

He could hear her heartbeat, quickening, tiny gasps coming more clearly interspersed with those soft moans and fuck! That scent would kill him. He'd never been so tempted to open a door in his life. Caught himself letting the book droop in one hand while the other palmed his jī ba through his pants and rubbed in a subconscious attempt at relief.

A long low heated moan and a sudden surge in her scent. Her heart racing, its beat speeding his blood, and he knew the moment she came, a choked cry as if she'd done something to stifle her moans, muffled gasps and then her breathing and heart rate slowed.

Something fumbling, a latch maybe? A soft thump and he heard her sigh in relief before her heart and breathing slowed into the gentle steady rhythm of sleep.

Riddick growled low in his throat and went to his room, stripped off his clothes and climbed into his own bed. Those moans and that scent would make him crazy and have him humping the mattress if he didn't do something to take the edge off. And he couldn't help wondering what had gotten her started. Their conversation about Companions? Was she tense from the earlier scare still and masturbation had been the only way she could relieve it enough to sleep?

That pale skin, dark hair, he wondered if she slept with it loose or in a braid to prevent it tangling. He hoped loose; that knot at the base of her neck was so big her hair had to reach her hips when it was down. The bed in that room had pale sheets, but her skin was so soft and white the sheets would look dark in comparison. And then that hair spread over her pillow, while her hands dipped between her thighs…

Did she like to play with her tits herself? Or did she go straight for her clit? She had slender, elegant long fingered hands, and he could picture them palming her breasts, tugging on the tips…had to wonder if her nipples were the same deep color as her mouth. She never smelt like cosmetics, and her lips didn't change color after a meal or leave a stain on a mug, so it had to be natural coloring.

He'd heard Core women didn't like body hair, on their men or themselves. He didn't understand that; what was the point of having a woman's body if they were trying to appear prepubescent? Nothing he loved more than seeing a woman's pussy and curls going darker with the wet he was causing. Sliding his fingers through slick lips and finding that particular sweet spot.

How wet had she gotten herself? Riddick could guess pretty well from the scent of her, so strong and that sudden rush of it, when she came did she drench her thighs with it? He hadn't heard the telltale buzz of a little motor so if she used a toy it wasn't a vibrator. How big did she like her men?

She was so slender, and if she liked Companions he guessed that's how she liked her men too, doubtful any of them had anything massive to work with. All joking aside, unless nature had been particularly generous or cruel, men tended to be proportional, same as women.

If he got on top of her he'd likely have to be careful, slow at first, but she'd be so tight… He groaned as that took him over the edge and grabbed for a tissue. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Long time since he'd gotten that out of control.

He hadn't been joking earlier. They were going to address whatever it was between them.

When she got up it had been a full ten hours so they were on a semi normal day's schedule, if slightly earlier than usual. He heard her moving around at about five in the morning ship time, grabbing a shower and grinned to himself.

Timing the opening of his door so she was just coming out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel wasn't something he'd normally do to a female passenger unless she'd made an obvious move indicating she wanted him to look. But with River… felt a little bit like he couldn't help himself and a lot like he just didn't want to.

He'd normally wear more than his shorts when he opened his door too. But he wanted to see her, and, just as importantly, he wanted to evaluate her reaction to him.

First thought… he'd been right about her hair and coloring. That dark mass, almost black with damp hung to the back of her thighs. And there was nothing artificial in the shade of her lips or cheeks. Well, the blush creeping down her cheeks and creamy looking neck gave her pale skin a tint but a completely natural shade.

The towel covered her ass but barely and those legs… Damn those legs would kill him. A quick glance down told him he wasn't getting a look at any intimate part of her and showed him some seriously beat up feet. "Damn," He grinned and leaned against the doorjamb. "If I'd known getting up this early meant a sight like you when I came out my door, might've started getting up early long before this."

"Only shower every three days," She reminded him in that polite voice of hers. But those eyes…even blushing, her eyes took in his chest and shoulders, dipped to his legs, lingering on his hips and groin with a quick lick of her lips before she met his eyes again.

"See you like this every day, be worth going through water cycles faster," He leaned forward and didn't quite invade her space, inhaling deeply. That musky spicy scent of heat nearly had him groaning and only iron control kept him from getting a hard-on that would push through the fly of his shorts. "Beautiful," He nearly crooned the word as he moved forward and put his hands on her hips. Deliberately pressing against her as he turned her body sideways, dick hard enough for her to feel against her stomach before he passed her and shut the door to the bathroom.

It had taken them a week to get to Constance, flying the backroads and River counted it one of the most frustrating weeks of her existence. Every morning, Rick would come out of his room in nothing but his shorts, grab a mug of tea, check their course and then go back to his room and dress.

Twice he'd come out of his room just as she was getting out of the shower, and those eyes had gone over every part of her exposed skin. He'd put those big warm hands on her hips and in turning her sideways pressed against her. She'd spent enough nights with a Companion to know that a morning erection had nothing to do with the woman a man was with. Simple biology explained it. But the feel of him…

It was rare that she needed to use her dildo two nights in a row but she'd been unable to sleep and getting wet and frustrated with thoughts of him even on her second night back on the boat. She'd nearly screamed into her pillow, biting down on the fabric to keep him from hearing her through the door.

It hadn't been every night but close to it and she was giving serious consideration to finding a vibrator and retiring her increasingly dissatisfactory dildo. If they stopped at a skyplex she'd look into it.

Rick glanced at her as he poured the tea, "Should be on Constance in an hour. I got a patch of land a few miles outside of town. Use it as a landing zone. We can take the mule into town from there, resupply. See about parts and maybe some real food if there's any in season."

"Doesn't have to pay taxes on the land?" She frowned. It wouldn't do to get lazy in her speech. Use pronouns even aboard the ship.

"Set up under a fake ident," He shook his head. "It spreads to the mountains to the west, and there's a mine there. Coupla guys mine for copper, iron, and pay me half of what they earn. Or say they do, and that's enough of an income to pay the taxes on this ball of dirt. I lease the rest of it out as pasture and fields. Just keep one area that's mostly rock, sand and pond for the landing area."

"Very smart," River liked that idea. She'd have to see about doing something similar. A small cottage with plenty of land around it. A little ship so she could come and go… Don't burn the egg protein.

Plates of rainbow-colored protein cooked to look like eggs, bacon and sausage, mostly, with chili spice and rice for filler which Rick tucked into like she'd made him Eggs Benedict. "Hasn't anyone ever cooked for you?" The question came out of her mouth without permission as she watched him devour the food.

"Like this?" He swallowed and grinned at her, cheerful and open. "No. Everything tastes like... well, like protein. Don't know how you manage to make it taste good."

"Not even at your Academy?" She frowned. "Seems…odd."

"The idea was to take soldiers, who really hadn't had anything but regular rations and turn them into better soldiers or Operatives," He explained between bites. "The last thing they wanted was to encourage personal appetites. I think if they could have turned Operatives into eunuchs they would have."

"Odd that they didn't," River shook her head, eating her own meal slowly and without much enjoyment. The idea of someone simply erasing that part of Rick's identity, mutilating his body…made her feel ill.

"What's wrong," He was observant, that was a certainty. Strong fingers lifted her chin so those silver-grey eyes met hers. "You're not eating."

"Find—" Stop, don't regress to shorthand speech, "I find it…repugnant…and disturbing…the idea that someone could do that to you…erase…part of you like that… It's…" She took a deep breath and forced herself to control the tightness of her throat, the stinging in her eyes. "It feels wrong."

Disturbingly observant. Thick warm thumb stroking over her chin, easing the chill that seeped into her and she shivered slightly as warmth bloomed between her thighs at the feel of his fingers. His nostrils flared and he smiled, slow, a bit wicked, but so warm. "Felt pretty wrong to me too when I heard the discussions about it. Even when I was half programmed," His thumb rubbed over her lips once and she had to stop herself from licking it, irrationally wanting to suck on him, before he took his hand way and picked up his mug, sipping tea. "But they figured it would change the behavior of the Operatives too much. They were already messing with our minds. Screwing with body chemistry might just counteract what they were trying to achieve."

Breathe. Slow the heartrate down. He felt like he was flirting again, but without the feeling of a twelve-year-old tugging a girl's braids to provoke a reaction. "Good," She nodded. "Wanted to sterilize me. Tubal ligation and partial hysterectomy to prevent conception should seduction be required for infiltration." She repeated the reasons given for the procedures, "And prevent any reproductive cycle from interfering in the work."

"They took away you being able to have kids," Fury. Rage like nothing she'd ever felt. Simon's, close to it, when he'd learned what they'd done. "Tell me they're dead. Tell me they died screaming." Growling… low and angry in his chest…

She knew her eyes were wide, staring at him in astonishment, "No… not dead." River shook her head.

"I want names," Rick was practically biting off the words.

"Pointless," She shook her head again. "Simon is a surgeon," River reminded him, still amazed at the flare of wrath that had filled him. Focused on her…such outrage…anger that anyone would try to take such a basic right away from her.

"He was able to reverse it?" His tension eased somewhat.

"Partial hysterectomy was never performed," She shook her head. "To be completed as the last step before field work was begun. Tubal ligation was reversed once Simon had access to proper medical facilities."

"I still want names," Rick glared down at his tea as if it had mortally offended him.

"Perhaps," River shrugged and put the rest of her food on his plate, her appetite gone. "At some point."

"You need to eat," Now he looked as if she'd done something offensive.

"Negative emotion impedes appetite," Damn. Negative emotion also made her speech slip. He didn't seem to mind but it was irritating to have her discipline eroding with a simple emotional upset.

"At least eat some of the rice, and some of the egg," He put what was left in the pan on her plate. "Can't deal with someone like me and then Constown with nothing in your stomach."

"Constown," She repeated seizing on the word as a change of subject and slowly eating the food.

"Yeah, they're a bunch of original thinkers," Rick rolled his eyes. "Constown, Persephone City, Jiangyinville. It's like Alliance means little or no imagination."

"He—You're not wrong," River frowned and for the rest of the meal and the set down on Constance forced herself to concentrate on speaking normally.

Author's Note: So we've got some seeds sown here… these two are still getting to know each other beyond the masks. Attracted to each other but they're not jumping into bed yet. That seemed reasonable to me considering their pasts. But they're not immune to each other either. We all tend to make assumptions about other people based upon how we were raised and our own experiences. When we meet someone raised in a different culture, they're not easy to understand and we try to relate to them according to our own. There's bound to be miscommunication.

Chinese Translations:

Shì (is / are / am / yes / to be)

Wèi le tā mā de yuán gù (For fuck's sake)

tā mā de (damn it! / fucking)

fèi tóng làn tiě (scrap metal / a pile of junk)

pì gu (butt)

gē ge (big brother)

diǎo (cock)

jī ba (dick / penis)