Chapter 9
She sat in her room, still wrapped in a towel, hair dripping on her shoulders. The bags in the floor of her closet seemed to laugh at her, daring her to open them and put on the garments contained in them. She sighed and closed her eyes. I can't fucking believe this. She opened one eye and then the other. She shook her head and emptied the contents of the bags on her bed. Three pairs of jeans, four tops, and, thank God, underwear. Nothing special, right? She sighed again, rubbing her forehead. Snatching up the closest pair of jeans and the plainest top, she closed her door and stuffed the rest of the clothes in her bag. She pulled on her underwear first, then dropped her towel to figure out how the bra was supposed to work. It wasn't as difficult as it looked, but she missed the feel of her wraps. She stepped into the jeans and pulled the top over her head, running her fingers through her wet hair. Eh, at least I'm dressed, I guess, she thought. She opened the door and walked down the hall to the kitchen. Riddick was in the dojo, pounding away on a punching bag. She made a mental note of that. She'd not noticed that room before, but she was definitely going to remember it.
Her clothes felt too tight as she rummaged through the fridge, settling on left over chili. She plopped some into a bowl and heated it up, leaning against the counter to eat it. She just stared at the floor, eating and thinking, but not really about anything in particular. She was kind of glad she'd forgotten to pack those bags now. Granted, these clothes weren't exactly comfortable, but she was covered, and did have socks. And she would have missed that shampoo. The smell had grown on her. She was so lost in mentally inspecting this new appearance she didn't hear Riddick walking down the hall toward the kitchen or see him standing in the doorway.
"You look nice," he said quietly, stifling a chuckle as she jumped. "Careful," he warned. "Might spill your chili on yourself." She rolled her eyes. "It'd be a shame to ruin that outfit." Her eyebrow rose.
"It's too tight." He shook his head, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge.
"It fits you," he insisted. "It only feels tight because you're used to wearing baggy guy clothes." She shrugged. "You'll get used to it."
"How far is Mena?"
"Couple days, why?"
"That's not enough time to get used to it," she mused. He snickered.
"Never know," he pressed. "You just might learn to like it." Her eyebrow rose. "Really, Jack, you could make quite an impression on someone looking like that." She blushed slightly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, hiding behind a bite of chili.
"You look like a girl," he said. "A gorgeous one at that." Her cheeks flushed a deeper red.
"Shut up." He smirked.
"You asked," he said, shrugging. "You know, if you wear something like that to go shopping for clothes more like what you wore before, you could raise some eyebrows and draw unwanted attention to us." She sighed.
"I'll wash my other stuff before we go." He chuckled.
"You're so predictable." Her eyes narrowed. He set his bottle of water on the counter and turned to dig through the cabinets for a snack. She finished her chili and walked behind him, grabbing his ass before setting her bowl in the sink.
"Predictable, am I?" He glanced over his shoulder at her.
"Don't start something you can't finish," he challenged. Her eyebrow rose as she washed out her bowl and put it in the dishwasher.
"Is that a threat or a promise?" Before she knew it, he had her backed up against the counter, right in the corner. There was no way she could get around him. She just stared up at him, praying the defiant look she'd mastered stayed in place.
"Well," he said, staring down at her, his face inches from hers. "That depends on your next move." She'd expected to be uneasy at being so close to him against her will, but for some reason she wasn't.
"I guess I might find out eventually, then, huh?" He looked surprised for a second, but that vanished quickly. A lazy grin spread across his face, and he leaned closer to her, their noses just fractions of an inch apart.
"Maybe sooner than you think." He let her go, returning to rummaging through the cabinets. She stayed there, wondering if he'd turned the thermostat up. He looked at her over his shoulder, grinning evilly, and left the kitchen. She laughed quietly. That was weird.
"Hey," she called after him. He appeared in the doorway. "Do you have a computer on this bitch?" He shook his head, and she swore.
"Why?"
"I haven't checked my email in ages." He sighed.
"They can track you that way, you know?" She nodded. "Might want to learn to live without it. Are you expecting something?"
"Not really. Imam and I still write to each other now and then. If he sent me something, he might get worried if I don't write back."
"There's a library by the port we're going to on Mena. You can check it there, let him know you're okay but won't have access for a while. Just make it short." He turned to go, and then turned back to her. "And encrypt it if you can." She nodded.
"What do you want for dinner?"
"I'm making dinner tonight." Her eyebrow rose. "You've made it enough for a while," he continued. "It's my turn." She shrugged.
"Whatever tickles your pickle," she said, turning back to wipe down the sink.
"My pickle?" he asked, re-entering the kitchen.
"A cliché alternative for a cliché."
"Kind of suggestive, don't you think?" She felt him standing behind her, the hairs on her neck standing on end. She felt the vibrations in his chest, even though he was on the opposite side of the kitchen. The whole room seemed to vibrate whenever he spoke.
"Only if you take it that way," she said.
"What other way would I take it?"
"Pervert." He chuckled.
"You would be too if you had the view I had." She turned around, and he was standing behind her, leaning against the opposite counter.
"Now that," she said, "was suggestive." He smiled. "By the way, how do you get into the dojo?"
"There's a door on the opposite wall of the bathroom door, why?"
"Just wondered," she said with a shrug of one shoulder. He memorized that gesture. It made her seem more feminine, more flirty. "I might check that out later. After we go to Mena."
"Why after?" he asked.
"All I have to wear is girly jeans and shirts," she answered, glancing down at her apparel. "Not really conducive to working out, don't you think?"
"I guess." She nodded, as though she'd won. "Could always just wear nothing, you know?" She wrinkled her nose, but still blushed. She was doing a lot of that lately.
"What's with all the comments?" she asked.
"What comments?" She rolled her eyes.
"Ever since I tried out this female crap you've been—" she stopped, eyeing him. His eyebrow rose.
"I've been…" He gestured for her to finish her sentence.
"Weird." He laughed.
"I've been told I'm weird all my life, Jack."
"You know what I mean," she said with a sigh. He just shrugged. "You're aggravating."
"Yeah, I've heard that before, too."
"So what haven't you heard before, Mr. Tough Guy?" she asked. He just looked at her for a moment, suddenly serious.
"I'm sure you can come up with an answer to that on your own." She just stared after him as he left the room.
The bed in her room never felt so comfortable. She sighed, hunkering deeper under the covers, reveling in the weight of them. Staring up at the ceiling, she let the thoughts pass through her head, the contented smile on her face slowly fading as she recounted the day's events. What would have happened if I hadn't gone to the bathroom? Or if I'd just gone into the girls' room? She shook her head and rolled over onto her side. I would have gone home and left him, just like he left me. The bed suddenly didn't seem so comfortable after all. She shifted the pillow, trying to get comfortable. Her back ached. I wonder if he would have come after me. Watched me until I decided to go back. Probably would have eventually anyway. He probably knows that. Maybe he'd just snatch me up and make me want to come back. She shook her head. He wouldn't do that. He'd just watch over me, make sure I'm safe, and if anything happened, he'd step in. She smiled to herself. My knight in tarnished armor. Her smile faded, her eyes growing heavy. What does he mean to me anyway? I used to think he'd come back and we'd live happily ever after, like Romeo and Juliet. Well, not exactly. They died. More like Sleeping Beauty and Prince Charming. She yawned. Yeah, Sleeping Beauty. She had the right idea. She let herself drift off, her breathing getting deeper and more rhythmic.
Riddick lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, wondering why she really came back. If she was upset with him enough to let him take her back to Kallipolis, she would have been upset enough to let him get captured. No, she wouldn't do that. I've saved her ass enough, she knows she owes it to me. He frowned. Maybe she thinks this is paying me back for saving her all those times. A heavy sigh. Too bad I can't let myself save her from me. She has to know she can do better. He shook his head, rubbing his eyes. These damn contacts. Don't do anything for the glare, either. Benefit everyone but me. He rolled over onto his side, staring at the wall. It was still next to impossible for him to fall asleep easily. All those years in Slam made him uneasy about konking out. No, he'd mastered the art of catnapping.
He gave up and stood, padding across the room and into the hallway, heading to the cockpit. It was usually relaxing to stare at the stars going by, so he sat in the pilot's chair and did just that. He started to doze off, and after fighting against fighting it, he finally gave in to sleep, still reclining in the pilot's chair.
He woke a few hours later, just keeping his eyes closed. He was one of those kinds of people who, if he allowed himself, would hit the snooze for an hour just to be able to drift in and out. When he finally got around to opening his eyes, Jack was sitting in the copilot's seat, just looking over at him. She was curled up on her side, facing him, just resting her head on the top of the chair.
"Can't sleep?" His voice was gruffy. She shook her head. He nodded, blinking slowly.
"You always sleep out here?" she asked quietly. She didn't sound at all groggy. He shrugged.
"It's easier to fall asleep out here for some reason." She nodded, falling silent again. He watched her avoid his eyes for a while. "Everything okay?" He glanced up at him and then back out the window.
"Just couldn't sleep?" His eyebrow rose.
"Nightmares?" She nodded slightly. "You always did have bad nightmares, didn't you?" She nodded again. "Wanna tell me about it?"
"No." He sighed.
"Might help." She shook her head. "Okay." It was so quiet with the ship on night mode, all but the backup engine shut off, floating slowly through space. They both stared out the window and watched the stars. He was starting to drift off again, his eyelids getting heavy.
"We were back on T2," she said quietly. He looked over at her, but she kept staring out the window. "Running back to the skiff." She shuddered. "You yelled for us to keep moving, that we knew the way, and we left you there. We kept waiting, but you never showed up, so we went looking for you." He saw goose bumps on her skin and reached out, taking her hand into his. Her skin was ice cold. "You came around a corner and stopped, and it looked like you were relieved we found you." She stopped, shaking her head. He let his thumb run back and forth on the back of her hand. Her fingers twitched in his, tightening and releasing only once.
"Go on," he encouraged.
"They got you," she continued. "And we didn't move." She shook her head as though she didn't believe it, and blinked a tear free. "We didn't even try to help."
"It was just a dream, Jack," he said gently.
"We laughed," she whispered. His thumb stilled, and he just watched her. Her brows were furled, quivering slightly. "You looked so hurt, not because those things were eating you. You didn't look hurt until we laughed at you." She sniffed, and his hand tightened around hers.
"It was just a dream," he repeated. She looked over at him, the tears shimmering in her eyes. "It never happened." She nodded, staring down at their hands. "Have you had that one before?" She nodded. He paused, searching for a way to phrase his next question without pissing her off. "Is that why you came back to me today?" She didn't respond, and he mentally kicked himself. She just stared at their hands, intertwined, as though it contained the answer to the meaning of life. "C'mere," he said, tugging on her hand. She sat up and let him pull her to her feet. He pulled her onto his lap, her legs hanging off the side of the chair, her head on his chest just under his chin. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand running through her hair. "Just a dream, Jack." She shook her head.
"We almost left you there," she whispered.
"It was just a dream."
"No, when we were there. We almost left you."
"But you didn't." She lifted her head, finding herself closer to his face than she expected. His hand still ran through her hair, his thumb lingering on her forehead and then her cheek, until, finally, resting on her neck, just under her jaw. Her eyes shifted from his eyes to his lips and back up, and he did the same. She blinked sleepily, and he smiled. "Tired yet?" She smiled a little and nodded. "Let's get you back to bed." She stood up, and he followed her down the hall to her room. He watched her crawl under the covers and look up at him as he reached for the light.
"Stay with me." He barely heard her, and paused.
"In here?" She nodded. He looked back into the hallway, absent mindedly rubbing the back of his neck, seemingly unsure. He looked back at her, an expectant look in her eyes. "You sure?" She nodded again. He flipped the light off, instantly relaxing at the relief. His sensitivity to light seemed to be getting more intense. She watched him walk over to the side of the bed and sit, pausing before lying down.
"You want the covers?" She asked quietly, pulling them over him before he could answer. She felt him tense as she curled up against his side, nuzzling her head against his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her shoulder, his fingers trailing up and down her upper arm slowly. She let her arm flop over his side and tucked her fingers under his shoulder blade, gently pressing into the muscle.
"My arm's gonna go to sleep," he predicted. She smiled.
"It won't matter if the rest of you does." He looked down at her, watching her fall asleep. She grumbled when he turned onto his side, her hand dragging across his back and around his side to his stomach as she snuggled into his chest. Her knee pressed between his, finally letting her leg snake between them, the arch of her foot cradling his calf. His eyes fluttered closed as he took in a sharp breath through his nose. That was a dumb idea. It was suddenly uncomfortably warm under those covers. He stared at her, sleeping pressed up against him, letting his hand trail down to the small of her back, running along her spine, feeling her arch into him. Mental note, he thought. Future reference, just in case. He blinked at the appearance of that thought. Until tonight, he hadn't really thought of Jack that way. All the sexual banter between them was just in good fun, no real meaning behind it. He leaned forward, smelling her hair. The corners of his lips curled upwards. Jasmine. He just watched her for a while, amazed at how relaxed she looked. Innocent. That was something he'd not considered. Just how innocent was she? Considering how long she'd been keeping up the disguise, she'd be pretty damn innocent. He sighed, ruffling her hair. He wished she'd grow it out. She shifted against him, and he was barely able to stifle the groan she roused. Definitely a dumb idea. He closed his eyes, willing his body to abandon its reaction. Gotta sleep, man. If I can fall asleep, this won't be a big deal. He knew he was lying to himself, trying to convince himself. With as lightly as he slept, he'd know every time she moved, even if it was just a slight twitch. This was going to make for a long night. His lips pressed to her forehead, and he could have sworn she pressed back. A smile touched her lips, and she shifted again. His eyes slammed shut and he inhaled sharply, then feeling her nose touch and then nuzzle the crook of his neck. Yep, long night all right.