Chapter 20

            Dakota groaned and rolled over, letting her arm hang off the side of the bed until it went numb. She pried her eyes open, unsurprised at how dry and itchy they were, given the amount of alcohol she'd consumed the night before. A heavy sigh, and she decided she might as well get up. Riddick was already in the kitchen, coffee cup in hand as he poured over maps and charts.

            "Morning, bum," he said quietly. She grunted and poured herself a cup of coffee, flopping into a chair next to him. His eyebrow rose as her head thunked down onto the table, and he barely suppressed a chuckle. "So was it worth it?"

            "Was what worth what?" she mumbled, the table making her voice muffled.

            "Getting drunk and the hangover respectively," he answered. She shrugged.

            "I'll be fine." They sat in silence for a while, Riddick not wanting to ruffle a groggy Datoka, and she just didn't have anything to say. She finished her coffee and rinsed the mug, locking it into the dishwasher. "So what's the plan?"

            "Figure we could lay low for a while," he said with a shrug. "Hang around here for a while." Her eyebrow rose, and his did as well in response.

            "You mean on the cruiser." Mostly statement. He nodded. "For how long?" A shrug.

            "You got a better plan?" he asked quietly, returning to his charts.

            "Apartment rent is cheap here," she said slowly. His eyes darted up to hers, but she only shrugged a shoulder. "Weekly, even."

            "No," he decided quickly. She sighed.

            "Why not?"

            "Because."

            "Because why?" she pressed.

            "Because I fucking said so, okay?" he snapped. She frowned. "We have to be close to a transport, and staying on the fucking ship is the closest we can get, so that's what we're going to do."

            "There's more security around the –"

            "I don't care," he interjected. "We leave when we have to. Absolutely have to," he clarified. "No leaving unless it's unavoidable." She nodded slowly, eyebrow still quirked above her eye.

            "Fine," she said simply, still staring up at him. He hadn't thought it would be that easy, but let it go.

            "Hey Riddick?" Kody leaned against the doorway, watching Riddick's arm hover mid-air. He glanced up from working on something in the engine room. "I'm bored." He sighed, returning to his work. Her boots thudded down the metal staircase as she descended slowly into the dark room.  "Do you, uh…" she trailed off, pausing at his quick look. "Do you want to go into town with me?" He dropped the wrench and ran a hand over his head. She didn't have the heart to tell him he smeared grease all over it. He probably knew anyway.

            "For what?" She sighed, plopping onto the bottom stair and gazing up at him.

            "I don't know, just walk around. Get some fresh air," she said quietly.

            "I thought I said—"

            "I know what you said," she interjected. "I'm sick of being cooped up in this god damn ship all the time. There's nothing to do except watch you tinker around with whatever the fuck you're playing with right now." His eyebrow rose. "It's not like it's being used anyway. We just sit here and do nothing all the time."

            "So what do you want me to do about it?" he snapped.

            "I don't know," she retorted. "Maybe ease up a little. Chill out. Enjoy yourself once in a while." He shook his head, picking up the wrench and going back to work. "Hell, enjoy me." She shuddered as his eyes ran over her.

            "What was that?" he asked quietly. She sighed, dropping her head in her hands.

            "I can't do this anymore, Riddick."

            "Do what?"

            "This," she said, watching him replace the tool in its box and wipe his hands on a dirty rag.

            "What?" he pressed. She shook her head, stifling another heavy sigh.

            "Living here with you," his eyes snapped up at her, but she wasn't looking at him. "Just—" she paused, shaking her head. "Not doing anything. Staying here, not talking to anyone, barely talking to each other. I can't do it anymore."

            "So what are you saying?" he asked slowly.

            "I'm saying you have a choice to make," she answered, raising her eyes to meet his, two pools of silver mixing.

            "And that would be?"

            "Start treating me like an ally instead of a fucking prisoner or let me go and live my own life." Her eyes were firm and confident, holding his without wavering the slightest. He took a breath but paused, not sure what to say.

            "I'm sorry," he finally whispered.

            "For what, exactly?"

            "Making you feel like that."

            "Feel like what?" she pressed. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced around the small room.

            "I never asked you to stay, Kody," he said quietly. Her eyebrow rose.

            "I know that." He nodded slightly. "So what are you saying?" No answer. "You want me to leave?" His eyes met hers, but he didn't say anything. He couldn't – the words just refused to form. The light in her eyes faded, and she cocked her head to the side, shaking it slightly. "Fine," she sighed, standing slowly. "Sorry for being a stowaway."

            "Kody—" She waved him off, heading back up the steps. He swore at himself and followed, his boots ringing as they clanged up the metal stairs. "Kody, I didn't lock you up and throw away the key to make you stay here." She huffed into her room, almost slamming the door, but he caught it and swung it back open, standing in the doorway.

            "No, you just hid a threat behind telling me it wasn't safe to leave."

            "I never threatened you," he insisted, watching her throw neatly folded clothes into a wad of material in a backpack.

            "Not directly, no," she spat, "you didn't. But you made it clear there would be consequences if I even thought about sneaking out to – gasp – go buy a new book."

            "What the hell has gotten into you?" Riddick sighed. Her eyes met his angrily, holding his for only a moment before she returned to packing. "I mean, fuck, you never acted like you were pissed off before."

            "Well, maybe I'm just a better actor than you are," she mumbled.

            "A better actor?"

            "Oh, come on, Riddick. You've made it perfectly clear I was just your fucking road map out of slam."

            "That's not —"

            "Jesus, Riddick," she continued, her packing growing more hurried. "You needed me to get out, and you felt obligated to let me stay with you. Well, I'm sorry I overstayed my welcome, and I'm sorry I intruded on your life, but god damn it, Riddick, just fucking admit it."

            "Kody, look at me." She sighed, closing her eyes as she paused in her clothes-throwing tantrum. "Look at me," he repeated. She complied, praying the tears didn't break free. "I'm sorry."

            "You already said that," she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "Unless you have something new to say, don't bother opening your trap."

            "Jesus Christ," Riddick groaned, flopping onto her bed. "Is this about Chris?" The sudden pause in her movements gave her away, but he didn't point it out. Instead, he let her return to her packing fit. "It is, isn't it?" She shook her head. "Don't lie to me, Kody."

            "You never struck me as the do as I say and not as I do type, Riddick," she said quietly.

            "I've never lied to you," Riddick snapped. "Not one fucking time. Don't start this shit." She started at the sudden outburst, clutching a folded pair of pants to her chest. He sighed, shaking his head. "It's about Chris."

            "Yeah, it is."

            "If there was another way—"

            "There wasn't and that's the point."

            "No, it's not the point," Riddick pressed. "If you're still stuck on it, you must be thinking there was another way, so just tell me what it was so I can apologize for not thinking of it myself and we can get over this."

            "We," she said quietly, the snicker following seeming out of place.

            "Yeah, we. What about it?"

            "I hate that word." He frowned. "Too awkward of a word, you know?  Too much extra responsibility, too many chances to fuck up and get yourself hurt, too many distractions." She shook her head.

            "What are you saying?"

            "I can't do this any more. This we shit." Riddick's head dropped. "I can't."

            "Then what about you and me?" Her eyebrow rose, but she didn't look up. "Can you do a 'you and me' thing and not a 'we' thing?"

            "What's the difference?" She tossed the pants on the bed next to the backpack and reached into her closet.

            "Don't leave."

            "I have to," she said quietly, her eyes closing at the weakness in his voice. It wasn't natural.

            "Please." He watched her turn around slowly, the surprise unhidden.

            "Why shouldn't I?" He started to say something and stopped, his eyes falling away from hers. "What, your pride can't take another blow? I never would have guess you had such a fragile ego."

            "It's not that."

            "Then what the fuck is it?"
            "I'm getting old, Kody."

            "Oh, Christ," she groaned.

            "Just fucking listen, okay?" he snapped, rubbing his eyes. "Maybe I don't want to spend the rest of my life flying solo anymore. I mean, did it ever occur to you that I might actually enjoy having someone else around?"

            "Who, me?" Those two words took the wind out of his sails, and he fell back on the bed, throwing his forearm over his eyes. "You haven't said a fucking thing to me in two full days, Riddick. Not one god damn word."

            "I'm not really the talkative type, Kody."

            "Okay, well, how about this? You haven't touched me – not a brush of a shoulder or an accidental bumping into – in a week. A whole fucking week; all seven days. 168 hours. 10,080 minutes." He glanced up at her. "You want the seconds, too?"

            "Did you do that in your head?"

            "Yeah," she said, a quirky smile lighting her face for a fraction of a second. "Cute, huh?" He snickered, shaking his head. Her face fell, and she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. "What the hell was I supposed to think, Riddick?"

            "You could have told me."

            "I have an ego, too, you know." He smiled, but it fell quickly at the pained expression she wore. She let it show only for a moment before shoving the last of her things into her bag. His eyes followed her fingers as she zipped it shut, falling on her face as she hoisted it onto her shoulder.

            "Please don't go," he said quietly, standing up from the bed. Her eyes focused on the ground as he walked toward her, stopping when his toes touched hers. She let them close as he ran a thumb down the side of her cheek, a finger sliding under her chin to raise her face toward his. Raw emotion shone in his eyes; perhaps a little fear, even. His lips met hers gently, but she pulled away, shifting the bag. "I'm uh," she licked her lips, glancing up at him and then focusing on the doorway. "I'm meeting Chris at the pub in five minutes." Riddick's eyebrow rose.

            "Chris."

            "Don't make this an issue, Riddick," she pleaded quietly. "Just—" She sighed, shaking her head slightly. "Just don't, okay?"

            "So I'm just supposed to let you leave me and run off with a fucking prison guard."

            "He's not anymore."

            "So he says," Riddick snorted.

            "At least he says something," she returned. She stepped around him and headed into the hallway.

            "Think he cares about you enough? Would he take a bullet for you, Dakota?" Riddick asked suddenly. She paused in the doorway.

            "Would you?" she returned, disappearing from the doorframe.

            "Yeah," Riddick said quietly, thinking it was to himself. She stopped, her hands suddenly shaking. "I would."