Chapter 16

            They sat in the dim room, neither saying a word, as the time passed by. Balls walked by a couple of times, but never said anything, only quirked an eyebrow. Finally, a loud buzz sounded, and Sarge glanced up sharply, as though she could see the source of the sound.

            "Showers," she said quietly. The time was nearing, the nervousness growing in the pit of her stomach. Riddick only stood slowly, stretching his arms overhead with a low, satisfied growl. "I got the soap," she added, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

            "Anything important in there?" he asked. She shook her head, following the coding in the question.

            "Just soap." He nodded, and she followed him out the door and down the hallway, which was getting more and more crowded as convicts lined up to get through the doors to the shower.

            "What happened to your arm?" Sarge glanced over her shoulder before yanking her shirt over her head. Red's eyes widened at the glow her eyes granted him, and he choked down a gulp.

            "IV," she explained quietly. "I fought, and it ripped before I went out." Redd nodded quickly, still shocked.

            "You okay?" She shrugged a shoulder, letting her pants fall from her hips into a pile with her already discarded shirt, followed by her tattered underwear. Riddick's scowl mirrored Sarge's as Red's eyes raked over her body. She looked past Red's shoulder upon hearing the low, barely audible growl vibrating in his throat and shook her head slightly, hiding it from Red by stepping under the nearest spray of dingy water. Her skin crawled as Red's wet shoulder brushed hers as he stepped under the stream next to hers, and she fought a shudder. "You got any soap, Sarge?" Red's voice was muffled by the water pelting her head, and she turned to him, the glare returning at the hungry eyes he turned on her. She sighed, reaching with dripping fingers into the bag she'd hung on a nail in the wall next to her.

            "Don't fucking touch me," she snapped, eyeing the hand on her shoulder before turning and handing him to soap.

            "What got into you?" Red asked, eyebrow raised as he lathered up. She smirked, but didn't say anything. His face fell. "Right," he said, voice dismal. "I see." She shrugged, glancing over at her shoulder just in time to see Riddick's shoulder shake with silent, hidden laughter. "I wasn't good enough for you."

            "No, Red," she said with a shrug. "You're just not my type." Riddick watched the exchange from the corner of his eye, reaching out to take the bar of soap from her as she held it out without looking at him. "Don't take it personal," she added, tilting her head back to rinse the suds out of her hair. Red's eyes darted beyond her to glance at Riddick quickly, but left him when the silver stare was turned on him.

            "It is personal," he mumbled.

            "What was that?" Riddick snapped, stepping out of the water and pulling damp pants over wet skin.

            "I said it is personal," Red returned, a little too loudly. A couple of convicts nearby turned to watch, just in case something happened.

            "Cut the shit, Red," Sarge snapped, yanking her wife beater over her head. "You always knew the deal."

            "Yeah," he snapped, ripping his shirt back on angrily. "And so did he." Sarge shook her head with a sigh.

            "You got a problem with me?" Riddick asked, standing to his full height, shirt still on a hook somewhere. Sarge snatched it up, draping it over her shoulder. Red just scowled at him. "You really want a fight in here? Guards watching? Fellow convicts watching?" Red glanced over his shoulder quickly.

            "Be smart, Red," Sarge said quietly. "It's not worth it."

            "He's not worth it, you're right," Red scoffed. Her eyes narrowed, focusing her polished glare on him.

            "Shut the fuck up, Red." Red started to turn toward the voice, and then thought better of it. Riddick's eyebrows rose at Balls, who was now standing behind Red, hands on his hips and still stark naked. "Why you thought you ever had a chance with her is beyond me, but don't be stupid. You can't win this." Red's hands clenched at his sides. "You got a whole army behind you willing to kick your ass to keep her from getting a fucking scratch," Balls continued. Wet feet slapped closer to Red, confirming the validity of the threat. "Where the fuck are you on the totem pole, huh Red?" Red only glared, his gaze shifting between Riddick, who only glared back, and Sarge, who looked slightly surprised at the showing of support. "She's at the top," Balls said quietly. "So's Riddick."

            "Riddick's been here for a month and a fucking half," Red snapped quickly.

            "Breaking out of Ursa Luna, Orbis 12, and Butcher Bay says something, Red," Balls said with a sardonic chuckle. "You know that as well as the rest of us."

            "Cut it out Balls," Sarge said suddenly, shaking her head as she collected her bag from its hook on the wall. "You made your point. Let it go."

            "Long as he does," Balls said quietly. "You gonna let it go, Red?" He didn't answer, and Balls snorted. "You really did think you deserved her, didn't you?" He clicked his tongue scoldingly. "Shoulda known better."

            "Let it go, Balls," Sarge repeated, more firmly this time.

            "Why should I?"

            "That's enough," a voice cut in. The crowd glanced at the door. "Shower's over," the guard said, cocking his gun. "Everybody out."

            "Told you," Sarge said quietly as Red turned. She made sure it was loud enough to hear. He paused, watching over his shoulder as Riddick lifted his shirt off Sarge's shoulder, watched as their eyes met and held, watched as they both smiled as though they shared the best secret in the world. His nostrils flared, and with a sudden, animalistic growl, turned and charged toward Riddick, slipping as he tried to stop to avoid the barrel of the gun suddenly shoved against his forehead.

            "I said, that's enough," the guard said, finger twitching in the trigger. "Give me one good reason to let a shot off, convict." Red's hands rose slowly as he backed away, his glare lingering on Riddick for a moment as he turned to gather the rest of his clothing. He felt Sarge's eyes on him as she followed Riddick into the hallway, but didn't turn.

            Sarge and Riddick lay on their cots, both staring up at the ceiling, hands under their heads as they listened to the post-shower noise that always took a while to calm as convicts turned in for their afternoon naps. People who'd never been to a slam would be amazed at the routines that always seemed to emerge.

            "You okay?" They both looked over at the door, Sarge's glance lingering longer than Riddick's, before returning to their ceiling staring.

            "Why wouldn't I be?" she finally asked, turning her eyes back to Balls as he strode through their open cell door. "Nothing happened."

            "Nothing happened?" Balls retorted incredulously. "He almost beat the shit out of both of you." Riddick snickered.

            "He knows better," Sarge said quietly.

            "You played with him and let him find out," Balls scolded.

            "I didn't fucking play with him," she snapped, launching off her back to sit on the edge of her bed, eyes suddenly angry. "He knew from the moment I walked down those fucking stairs I didn't want him, and he pushed it." Balls' brows furled. "I told him flat out I wanted no part of him, friendship, alliance, or otherwise, and he just kept on. I may have been cordial, but I've never made it seem like I liked him even the least little bit." She paused, getting her temper in check.

            "You told everyone you were asexual, Sarge," Balls said quietly, glancing quickly at Riddick.

            "I am," she snapped, leaning against the wall. Balls' eyebrow rose, and he glanced at Riddick again.

            "So you two aren't fucking then." Part question, part statement.

            "Does it matter?"

            "Yeah, actually," Balls said, leaning against the bars behind him, "it does. If you are, you lied. If you're not, you played Red."

            "So I played Red. Big fucking deal," she said with a shrug. Riddick watched Balls' face for any recognition of the lie. Either he didn't know she was lying or he had a damn good poker face.

            "He could have killed you, Sarge," Balls insisted gently. She glared up at him, but he didn't change his mind. "He's got a good forty pounds on you, at least."

            "So?" Sarge's eyes closed. "Didn't matter with Duke. And Duke could beat the shit out of Red with an arm and a leg removed." Riddick fought the chuckle. He wanted to stay out of this.

            "Duke was good at blowing smoke, Sarge," Balls groaned. "You and I both know it. An enraged Red could easily take you out." He paused. "And you definitely pissed him off."

            "It worked, then," Sarge snapped. "Didn't touch me again."

            "Might not work next time." She couldn't keep the smirk off her face. There wouldn't be a next time.

            "We'll see." Her eyes opened. "Might not be a next time if he knows what's good for him."
            "I won't back you up next time," Balls warned. Her eyebrow rose. "I'm not taking the chance he'll rip my nuts off and hand them to me just because I got in the way of him getting his woman."

            "I'll never be his woman," Sarge ground out, rising slowly. "I'll never be anyone's woman." Balls started rethinking his statement as she stalked forward, moving toward him slowly, ready to strike. "I'm not a fucking possession, and anyone with half a brain would feel sorry for the poor fool who tried to make me into one." She paused a few inches away from him. "And you know it." Her head cocked to the side, her eyes never leaving his for even a moment. "So quit playing the 'how loyal are you really' game with me, because you know where my loyalty lies." He didn't respond, so she continued. "I'm loyal to no one but the person who counts. Me. So don't you fucking cross me, and you'll be fine." He nodded slowly. "I like you, Balls, I really do. But you know what happens when someone crosses me." Another short nod. "Good." She backed away, returning to her crosslegged position against the wall. "Get the fuck out."

            "You know," Balls said, dragging himself away from the bars that had just been molded into his back a second ago. "It's amazing how much power women have over men," he commented, more to Riddick than Sarge.

            "I wouldn't know," Riddick returned quietly. "She doesn't have to worry about threatening me."

            "This one here," Balls continued, gesturing toward Sarge, "has every fucking con down here, regardless of size or rap sheet, shaking in his boots just because of that menace in her eyes." He glanced at her, tossing a slight smirk. "And that was before the shine." He shook his head. "No wonder Daisy wants you dead."

            "What was that?" she asked quickly.

            "Yep. Watch your back," Balls said with a slight shrug, watching Riddick sit up slowly. 

            "Explain," Sarge demanded. Balls only shrugged and started moving for the door, suddenly pressed against the wall, his cheek smashed against the cold, damp stone. "You better start talking," she warned. He felt the point of a shiv digging into his side, nearly drawing blood.

            "He loses money on you," Balls said quietly. "People are starting to shy away from the fights because there's no glory in it. Winning doesn't move them up the hierarchy any more. There's only so far they can advance, even though you're never in the fights. He's losing talent. Cons are starting to learn it's easier and less painful to just stay in your good graces rather than fight their way up to just below you." She swore.

            "When?"

            "Soon."

            "How soon?" she pressed, simultaneously pressing him harder into the wall.

            "I don't know," Balls stammered. "I overheard a couple of his goons talking about a hit on you a couple days ago. It sounded like it would be soon, but I didn't hear a timeframe." Sarge let him loose and backed up slightly, running her hands through her still damp hair. She glanced out toward the hallway, which was eerily quiet.

            "Go back to your cell and stay there," she instructed quietly. He turned to her slowly, eyebrow raised.

            "What are you gonna do?" She just shook her head.

            "Stay there," she repeated, eyeing him. He nodded, then repeated his question. "I don't know yet. Just stay out of it." She nodded toward the door. "You don't know anything, you're not a threat." He disappeared down the hallway, and she remained standing, her back to Riddick. She heard his bed creak quietly as he stood, shuddering as his hand closed on her shoulder.

            "You've got a decision to make," he said quietly. His voice was closer to her than she expected. "Either you go looking for Daisy and set things straight, or we go now and avoid the hassle." She sighed, shaking her head slightly.

            "If he comes looking for me and I'm nowhere to be found, they'll know." Riddick nodded behind her, the hand on her shoulder sliding around to the other shoulder, pulling her back against his chest. "Sound the alarm, and the sneaky getaway won't be so easy."

            "I got your back, you know that, right?" he asked slowly.

            "Don't," she whispered. "You've still got a chance without me."

            "You've got the map," he responded, kissing her temple to draw a smile.

            "We'll have to extend the timeline," she said quietly. "Let the guards find them, spend some time in the hole, wait a few days after that." He was quiet for a moment, pondering that. "The guards will know it was me," she explained. "I'm sure they've overheard the complaints about me fucking up the fighting business for him. I'd be the prime suspect."

            "What if he gets some time in the hole while we make our move?"

            "How?" she asked, turning to face him. His arm fell comfortably around her waist. The smirk on his face should have told her, but it didn't. He leaned forward, his lips closing around her earlobe, his smile widening as she pressed harder against him.

            "You know someone with some clout." She tried to look at him, but his lips were already working a trail down the side of her neck. "Talk to him." She sighed, burying her face in his shoulder.

            "I don't have a good feeling about that, Riddick," she said quietly. Her back arched as his fingers traced her spine.

            "Use your talents," he whispered, closing his teeth on her skin. She pulled away, making the bite hurt worse than it would have. Her body language said angry, but her eyes gave her fear and confusion away.

            "He'll know when we're going," she stammered, eyes darting around the room nervously. Riddick's eyebrow rose almost sensuously.

            "He won't care." Her eyes closed as she rubbed her forehead with a shaky hand.

            "I can't," she whispered, shaking her head slightly. He sighed, closing the distance she'd created between them. She flinched as he brushed her hair out of her eyes, bringing her cheek closer to his already advancing lips.

            "Yes you can," he said quietly after kissing her cheek. "If you want out badly enough, you can." She shook her head again, biting her lip to keep it from trembling visibly. "Listen to me Sarge," he said, eyeing the convict walking past the cell, who was now slowing to watch Riddick's arms wrap around Sarge possessively. "You and I both know if you stay here, you'll snap." His voice was directed into her ear, quiet enough to not be overheard, but visible enough to look like he was whispering sweet nothings to the sudden collection of passersby. Her hands clutched his shoulders tightly, but she didn't know she was helping the image. "If you want a chance at freedom, you can do this." He smiled lightly at the jealous stares from the men strolling by to watch as he pressed his lips to her shoulder before returning to his words. "If you want a chance at the time you saw yourself spending with me on the outside," he paused, watching her head turn to him slightly. "You will do this." Her head left his shoulder, her eyes shifting to the strolling crowd, which now seemed to be circling the block to keep watching, before turning on him. Her eyebrow twitched downward a bit, but she leaned forward, brushing her lips against his only slightly, nodding her answer while appearing to only kiss him. He caught the signal and deepened the contact, but only for a short second before he pulled her into a fierce hug. "Just don't let him think you don't want to be there." She nodded against his chest, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades. "Go," he said, quickly kissing the top of her head before ending the embrace. She sighed, turning to the door. He followed her down the hallway, watching the corridors as she entered the grate.

            Her stomach was in knots as she crawled through the metal tunnels, heart rate increasing with every inch she moved forward. She reached the end, only a grate separating her from her goal, and she paused, watching the empty room, pondering whether she should surprise him or wait until he got there and avoid a possible visitor. She decided on the latter, the vent getting hotter and more uncomfortable, her heart rate continuing its ascent and her stomach twisting harder as time passed. Finally, the door opened, and he walked in. Alone. She waited until she heard the shower turn on before removing the grate and dropping soundlessly to the table below it. She arranged herself at the table, helping herself to one of his cigarettes, and waited. She heard the door open and exhaled a slow, streaming swirl of smoke before raising her eyes to his.

            "What are you doing here?" he asked quietly, adjusting the towel around his waist. She made a show of looking him over, eyebrow cocked in approval. I can not believe I'm going through with this, she thought. She didn't answer yet, only taking another long drag off the cigarette between her fingers. He watched, thumb hooked behind the tucked in tail of the white towel.

            "I need a favor," she said finally, eyes meeting his again. It was his turn to arch an eyebrow, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. She offered no more information, instead, focusing her attention on smoking.

            "A favor," he repeated, his voice somewhat skeptical. She blew smoke rings, still waiting for his answer. "Let me hear it."

            "You know that's not how it works," she scolded, still showing off her smoking tricks, knowing he was watching intently. "Tell me yes and you'll hear it."

            "Why the fuck should I agree to something on the blind?" She smiled.

            "You're smart," she said, cocking her head to the side as she flipped her ashes. "But you know it doesn't work that way." Her eyes met his. "Not here, anyway." He sighed, running a hand through his wet hair.

            "Then tell me what I get out of the deal." She smirked, eyes twinkling slightly.

            "Favor, not deal." He shook his head, still staring into shined eyes.

            "What do I get out of it?" he repeated. She stood, pausing to snuff out the cigarette before walking to him. She leaned against the wall, only a few inches away from him, her head bending to the side to watch her finger trail down his chest.

            "I'm sure we could come to an agreement," she said, turning her eyes back up to him, only the slightest hint of a smile turning the corners of her lips upwards. She knew she had him then, even if he didn't show it. He sighed heavily, leaning his head against the doorframe as he pondered.

            "Does Riddick know you're here?" he asked quietly.

            "What do you think?" she asked coyly, consciously shifting her eyes down to his lips and back up.

            "You know what you're doing?" he pressed. She nodded, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as she tangled her hands in his hair. His eyes scanned over her quickly.

            "I'm clean," she said quietly. "Figured you'd be more trusting if I wasn't armed." He smirked.

            "I still don't trust you." She watched his tongue trace his lower lip, mirroring the movement.

            "Smart man," she purred. "How 'bout it, officer?"

            "Let me hear it."

            "Is that a yes?" she asked, her eyes meeting his. He leaned forward, allowing himself a short taste of her before meeting her eyes again.

            "Yeah," he said quietly. "That's a yes." She nodded, the smirk falling from her face as she turned to occupy her chair again.

            "Daisy has a hit out on me," she offered, watching him sit on the edge of the bed across from her. She crossed her ankles on a nearby chair and folded her hands in her lap. His face was serious, and she continued. "Couldn't kill him without delaying plans for a trip to the hole." He cocked his head to the side, granting her guess. "Couldn't let him live in case he came looking for me and I was gone, or he'd blow the whistle." Another point well taken.

            "So what do I do about it? Kill him for you?" There was a touch of sarcasm in his voice, and her expression told him he was testing her patience.

            "I said a hit, not a threat. Daisy himself isn't the fucking problem." His eyebrow rose. "You lock him and his posse in the hole and I'll let you have your way with me." She cringed inwardly. It was supposed to sound like she was willing, not compliant.

            "You'll let me, huh?" Her eyebrow rose.

            "You know the terms you've already agreed to, and I know what I want to give you in return," she said firmly.

            "You're whoring yourself out for a window of opportunity, Sarge," he said slowly, watching her eyebrow arch. "You're better than this."

            "Would you do it if I didn't offer?" she fired back.

            "You're awful trusting, telling me all this."

            "Answer the fucking question," she pressed, eyes narrowing.

            "No,"

            "Exactly. You want something out of the deal, you got something out of the deal. And since you're already obligated to follow through, I'm obligated to pay up." She paused, watching him mull it over. "You showed trust in me by leaving me armed last time I was here, even giving me a fucking fork." He smirked. "I'm willing to return that trust to you for a chance at freedom." The smirk fell quickly as he searched her eyes for honesty, finding nothing else. He took a breath and paused.

"I've always liked you, Sarge," he said quietly as he stood, reaching out to remove the elastic from her hair and run his fingers through it. "And you're better than this." Her eyes met his.

"Gotta do what you gotta do," she said, leaning her head against his hand as he cupped her cheek. "I don't have any other way to pay you."

"Take me with you."

"I can't," she said, removing her face from his hand. "It's risky enough with just two people." His breath caught in his throat, and she glanced up at him. "I can't do this without Riddick, and I know you can't pilot."

"You're right," he said slowly, picking up her feet so he could sit. She figured he would let them drop to the floor, but he placed them in his lap, fiddling with the laces of her boots. "I can't." His eyes met hers, somewhat sadly. "So this is how it's gonna be, then." She sighed. "You know," he said, pausing slightly. "I've always tried to protect you as much as I could without drawing too much attention." Her jaw tightened. "I know it didn't help much, but I just wanted you to know I tried."

"Why?"

"No one deserves to be treated like you all are down there," he said slowly. "But there's no justification for what Anders does to you." Her eyes closed.

"I'm a fucking convict, Chris," she said quietly.

"I don't care," he insisted. "You're still a human."

"Slightly," she mused with a halfhearted chuckle.

"You wanted to know why I was helping Twosy?" Her eyes met his. "He told me he was getting you out of here."

"He lied," she said quickly. "He had the codes hidden with the screwdriver, and phony ones where he said he put them." His forehead crinkled.

"I made the mistake of trusting him," he admitted.

"Both of us did," she admitted.

"I'll take care of Daisy," he said quietly. "That'll give you four days to decide when you want to go. Don't tell me," he instructed. "I don't want to know. Just make it out of here alive." She nodded slightly. Her stomach had started to unwind the more he talked, but as soon as he pulled on the string of her boot, undoing the bow, it knotted up even more than it had before. She took a silent, deep breath and let it out slowly as he pulled the boot off. The other followed, and there was no turning back now.