Chapter 5
"Hey Riddick?"
"Hmm?"
"Hand me the socket wrench, will ya?" She stuck her hand out from under the engine and wiggled her fingers. He put the handle end in her palm and watched her fingers close around it.
"You've had some bad luck with those things, haven't you?" he asked. She snickered.
"Yeah, they're the scourge of all toolboxes." He grinned.
"Fuck, Riddick."
"What?"
"You've got a hole in your… um… thing."
"Well, it's nice to know you've had some anatomy, Jack. I was starting to wonder."
"Don't be an ass. Whatever this thing is, it has a hole."
"What's it look like?"
"A thing."
"Well, obviously," Riddick chuckled.
"I don't know. It's a roundish thing inside a square with some little thingies sticking out."
"What?"
"Get your ass under here and look at it yourself," she said, frustrated.
"Oh, that thing," he said, once she pointed it out. "Yeah, that's supposed to be there."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, so what am I looking for?"
"A hole in the tranny."
"You have a hole in your transmission?" she asked, glancing over at him. He reached over her to grab a screwdriver.
"Yeah, that's what the diagnostics program said," he answered.
"Where the fuck is the tranny anyway?"
"I don't know," he mused. "It's up there somewhere."
"Why couldn't you just buy a God damn car?" He snickered.
"I don't think a car would survive deep space, doll."
"Well, they're a lot easier to work on, sugarbritches," she snorted.
"'Sugarbritches'?" He raised his eyebrow at her.
"Well, you called me 'doll'. Fair's fair." She shrugged. "There." She pointed. "I can't reach it." She frowned. "I don't see a hole, either."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she said, nodding. "I could be wrong, but on the outside, it looks fine." She looked over at him. "Filthy, but in working condition." She shrugged. "Maybe you need a new diagnostics program?"
"Yeah, maybe. I'll run out and see what I can find later."
"Guess I'll just stay here and make dinner, then, huh?" He glanced over at her.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You never let me do the fun stuff… go shopping, grab dinner, see a movie. Nothing."
"It's a dangerous world out there, Jack."
"Well, give him a PhD, he's got it figured out," she said sarcastically. "I know that, dumbass. I've survived so far."
"Jack—"
"I obviously don't need you to shield me from life, Riddick," she groaned. "I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."
"Don't you mean, 'I'm a big boy, I can handle myself'?" If looks could kill, he'd have dropped dead. She rolled out from under the engine and snatched up a rag, furiously wiping her hands. "Jack—"
"I'm gonna go wash up." She turned and left.
"Jesus."
***
When he returned from his shopping excursion, she was scrubbing away at the rust in her room. He knew she'd heard him come in, but she didn't acknowledge his presence.
"Jack—"
"I know you said we'd save the cosmetic crap for later, but this is really bothering me."
"Jack—"
"I mean, I'm the one that has to live in here, so if I can find the time to clean it up, it's no sweat off your sac, right?"
"Jack—" She turned to look at him, her face devoid of expression.
"What, you wanna say you're sorry?" His mouth hung open, but no words spewed forth. "Fine, you're forgiven. Dinner's in the oven."
"You didn't have to make dinner."
"I know." She shrugged. "Didn't have anything else to do."
"How can I fix this?" he asked, throwing his hands in the air.
"Well, you can start by fixing the intercom wiring and the box, and then fix the damn door so I can have some fucking privacy." He took a breath, but she suddenly remembered something. "Oh! And rugs would be nice. I need some new socks too. All of mine have holes in them."
"Jack—"
"I don't know, Riddick." He sighed. An uncomfortable silence settled between them as she toyed with the rusty steel wool in her hands, picking at the strands of metal.
"Help me out here, Jack. I'm not good with people."
"I hadn't noticed." He sighed again, rubbing his forehead.
"You know what I mean." She took a breath and looked up at him.
"Why do you want me here so badly?"
"I like the company," he admitted with a shrug of one shoulder.
"I hear Mena's got a group of scientists cloning people for companions. You can have some of my DNA and then have them try gene surgery to make my clone who you want me to be." Her words struck him so hard he felt he'd been slapped. She let her eyes return to the scrubby pad in her hands. "Dinner's getting cold," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah." Defeat made his voice thick and low.
"Go ahead," she continued. "I already ate." She heard him sigh, and felt him leave.
***
Staring at the ceiling hadn't gotten him anywhere close to sleep. He'd counted primes, recited the alphabet backwards, counted squares and then cubes, and nothing was helping. With a heavy sigh, he flopped over onto his side and scrunched his eyes shut. He shuffled out into the hallway and up to the main deck. Pausing to lean against the wall, he just watched her, staring up at the stars.
"They're beautiful, you know?" she said quietly. He shuffled forward and took the other seat, watching her watch the glowing specks. "You never pay attention to them when you're planet-side, but out here, it makes you wonder why you never notice them." He nodded.
"Can't sleep either, huh?" he asked, surprised at how gruffy his voice was. She shook her head, hugging her knees tighter to her chest.
"Usually I'd go for a run, but there's not enough room here."
"I'm planning on converting part of the cargo-hold to a dojo sometime," he offered. Small talk, he thought. Small talk is good.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, eventually." Silence.
"Where's the next stop?" Her voice jolted him back into the present.
"Gryphon," he said quietly. She nodded.
"Never been there before."
"They've got some cool stuff." Her eyes lowered to the control panel. "Might be able to get you some new socks." She smiled, her gaze fixated on some invisible object in front of them, in a trance.
"And some rugs?" He smirked.
"Whatever your heart desires." Her smile fell. He repeated himself for further emphasis, watching her face fall even further.
"Money can't buy what my heart desires," she said quietly. His cheek twitched.
"What would that be?"
"Nothing," she said quickly. "Don't worry about it."
"Jack?" he stared at her, but her trance still consumed her attention.
"It's not a big deal," she said. "Really." Her eyes met his with a small smile as she stood slowly. "I'm gonna go try again. Good night." He reached out and grasped her wrist.
"Come here," he said quietly. She turned around slowly, uncertainty written on her face. "How long has it been since I hugged you?" he asked, looking up at her.
"Ages," she whispered. He nodded and tugged on her arm, pulling her closer to him, but she shook her head. "Not today," she said quietly.
"Why?"
"I don't know." She pulled her wrist from his hand and encircled it with her own, rubbing slightly as though he'd hurt her. He glanced down and back up at her. She forced a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow." He watched her turn and walk down the hall, glancing over her shoulder at him as she rounded the corner and disappeared. He sighed.
***
"Jack, let's go," Riddick called, hand on the door latch mechanism.
"Sorry, I'm coming." She rounded the corner, barely dodging a steel beam, and caught up to him. "I'm ready." He turned the latch and the hatch lowered. She waited as he locked up and glanced around.
"Stay close, okay?" he asked quietly.
"I'll be fine, Riddick." He noted a slight degree of agitation in her voice, but let it go.
"It's not far from here, I promise."
"I can handle a walk, Riddick."
"Do you have your I.D. with you?"
"Yes, Riddick."
"Will you stop calling me that in public?"
"Yes, um…" she trailed off, glancing up at him.
"Thomas. Mark Thomas."
"Right." She smirked. "Yes, Thomas."
"So what all do we need?" he asked, trying to keep a neutral conversation.
"I need socks, a rug, and some more steel wool. You have the list of the other stuff."
"I do?" he stopped, and she did the same after a few steps.
"I gave it to you yesterday," she said. He grinned, and she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Don't ever do that to me again."
"Yes, Mike."
"Fuck you, Thomas."
"You picked it.
"And you're mimicking me, asshole," she spat.
"Okay, so socks, rugs, and steel wool. That's it?" She glanced over at him.
"What else would I need?" He shrugged.
"I dunno. I thought maybe you'd want to get some new clothes or something."
"What's wrong with the clothes I have?"
"You don't have very many," he said.
"So?"
"So you can save us some water not having to do laundry so often. It's getting to be a strain on the purifier." She nodded.
"I guess I could." They rounded a corner and there was a shopping mall. She groaned inwardly. "I hate shopping." He stopped walking again, and she turned. "What?"
"You wanted to come here."
"The mall?" Her eyebrows rose as she pointed with her thumb over her shoulder. "No, I said shopping, like a market, not a mall, type shopping." He shrugged.
"Oh well. This one has anything you might need." Once inside, he handed her a credit chip and instructed to meet him back at the customer service desk in two hours.
"The one with the blond hologram or the redhead hologram?" she asked, glancing from side to side. His eyebrow rose.
"Uh… which do you prefer?"
"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "Brunette isn't a choice, so I guess the redhead?"
"Okay. Two hours." She nodded and looked at her watch. He headed off to Mechanical Supply Outlet, leaving her staring up at the three levels of stores. She swore under her breath. Start with the closest department store.
Several people asked her if she needed help, and the answer was always "just looking." Straight to the socks. Athletic type. Padded soles. Hell yes, she thought. Ten-pack for seven credits. Under the arm and on to housewares.
"Can I help you?" She turned, biting back a groan.
"Rugs?" The man gave her a quizzical look. "Metal floors are killer on overworked feet." He nodded with an understanding smile.
"Second floor." She thanked him and headed toward the stairs. What, like guys don't buy rugs? A plain black one would do just fine. She picked one long enough to reach the door and draped it over her arm. Riddick said he'd get the steel wool in MSO, so she was done with her list. She shrugged and headed to the cashier.
"Can you tell me how much is left on that thing?" she asked, nodding at the credit chip she'd just handed over. She felt guilty for spending thirty credits on two things, but hey… she had to live with this. The cashier nodded and pointed at the signature pad. Jack's eyes widened. "Is this right?"
"I believe so, sir," the lady said with a nod.
"Wow." She glanced up at the cashier and gave her an embarrassed smile. "I didn't realize I'd saved that much." Three thousand credits? Damn. I guess I'm obligated to buy some more clothes, then. With a quick thanks, she was out the door. Where to shop, where to shop. She found another department store and wandered in, heading straight to the guys' section. Cargos, a couple of tee shirts, another pair of coveralls and god damn, that shirt was cute. Cute? Shit. That's the girls' section. She glanced down at herself. It would be odd for her to be shopping in that section. She wandered over to someone who looked like they worked here. "I have an odd question," she said with an apologetic smile. "My sister's about as big as me. What size would she be? I want to get her a birthday present." The woman's eyebrow rose, and she crooked her finger.
"I don't mean to be rude," she said quietly. "I know how it is traveling by oneself at your age." Jack blushed, no matter how hard she tried not to. "I can get you a dressing room – they're all unisex here – and we can find you something more your speed?" It was definitely a question. "I mean, I understand if you'd rather keep your secret, but if you want a chance to be yourself, you know…" she trailed off.
"I guess I could try. No one would see?" The woman shook her head.
"Let's find you a dressing room." Jack nodded and followed her, swallowing down the lump in her throat. She stopped just outside the door of the room chosen for her and turned to the saleswoman.
"Is it that obvious?" The woman smiled politely.
"I had my daughter do the same thing for years," she admitted. "She was insistent on going to engineering school, and I made the suggestion. It's the only reason I could tell. She never got questioned, and you pull it off much better than she did." Jack nodded, taking it as a compliment, sort of. "I'll be right back, and just hand them to you over the door, is that okay?" Jack nodded again. Forty-five minutes later, she walked out with three bags packed with new clothes. She went into another department store.
"Can I help you?" Grr. That got me into trouble last time.
"Tweezers?" The man's eyebrow rose. She laughed. "I work with my older brother on this piece of crap ship, and I'm constantly getting slivers of metal stuck in me. Pliers don't seem to work as well, even needlenose." He laughed and nodded.
"I understand completely. My brother's a carpenter, and his wife is always complaining that he ruins hers." She smiled and thanked him. A few other items, and she was out the door. She decided she'd better go ahead and turn back to the information desk – with the redheaded hologram, she reminded herself with a smirk. Riddick was already there.
"Holy shit," he said, his eyebrows rising as he saw her approaching with so much cargo. "Find anything?" She grinned.
"I guess."
"You ready?"
"Couldn't be more ready to get the fuck out of a mall," she said.