Disclaimer: There's a poem by William Blake called The Tiger that I quote bits of.

Worth Watching

Zemma ordered a veritable buffet; they could snack on it all night. No one was likely to sleep. Even if Riddick looked very calm she knew he would want to keep track of the space battle he was hoping would cripple his fleet. At least the part of the fleet now emptied of Furyan soldiers.

"So, spill about the shine job." Jack was scrounging around the bar, apparently not as pleased to only find 'the good stuff' as Riddick had been.

"All Furyans have the blue lenses." Zemma's sense of de'ja'vu made her want to smile again. Then again, she'd been smiling a lot the last 20 hours or so.

"Fury-whats?" Jack found something to her taste and hopped up on the top of the bar to sample it.

Riddick seemed willing to leave the explanation to Zemma. "Fury is a world, one of the first taken over by the NecroMongers. Furyans are born with the extra lens that allows them to see in the dark."

"Necro-Mongers?"

"Death Seekers."

"You bastard!" Jack hopped down from the bar and turned on Riddick. "I knew you were lying. God-damn son-of-a-bitch. Prick!"

"Remember who you're talking to, Jack." Riddick's voice was low and meant to sound menacing but Zemma could hear the amusement in it.

"The Lord Marshal did not know he could drop his lenses until recently." Zemma offered politely.

"Prove it."

Riddick put his hand to his face. He did not drop his lenses often enough to do it as easily as Zemma. When he put his hand down, Jack walked closer to inspect them.

Jack didn't notice, but Zemma saw Riddick examining the girls face as closely as she did his eyes. Zemma thought of Riddick looking down on the dead Kyra and thinking, 'First time he's ever seen her face.'

"You have brown eyes?" Jack laughed loudly. "I always knew you were full of shit, and that proves it right there." She walked away from him, taking a swig off the bottle as she approached Zemma.

"You have green eyes like me. Lemme see the blue ones."

Zemma obliged, looking at the girl as Riddick had previously only ever seen her.

Jack turned on Riddick again. "So why ya livin' in the dark? Lights on!"

Zemma dropped her lenses, while Riddick twitched his up. "The lights only respond to our voices in this suite, now. Safer that way," Zemma told her.

Had that been mischievousness? Or just part of her brassy personality? Bright lights would still have hurt Riddick's eyes, used to the dark as he was. Certainly would have annoyed him. Zemma glanced over at him, but saw no particular reaction. She looked to Jack, still looking at Riddick, and saw some tension in the slant of her shoulders.

On purpose then.

Interesting.

Worth watching, at any rate.

"What's the matter, Jack?" Riddick tipped his head over in that way that most annoyed Zemma when he did it to her.

He sees it too.

"What could be the matter, old man?" Jack walked to the seat opposite Riddick's and flopped down, putting her feet up on the low table there and looking at him over the top of the bottle. "I'm grateful you rescued me, again." Her voice was clearly facetious, bordering on insolent.

"And why did you need rescuing off a merc ship? Were you bounty? Or crew?" Riddick made it sound like there was no right answer.

"Oh, I'm not as big a payday as you are. But they would have earned a little off me. Not enough, of course, to chase me down again once I escaped. And the slam wouldn't be hurting so bad they'd do more than write me off the books… I learned what you never did. Don't hit em in the pocketbook and you can stay under the radar a little better." She spoke with smug satisfaction.

"So they had you on their rolls because they were lucky, or you were stupid?"

That wiped the grin off her face. They stared at each other, and again Jack looked away first. Riddick shook his head as he got up and headed for the bar.

"Why didn't you stay on New Mecca, Jack?" He asked softly, almost sorrowfully.

"Why didn't you stick around, Riddick?" She snapped right back.

"You know why!" Riddick turned and roared. Zemma watched him struggle for control. "Don't tell me any sob stories about joining mercs to find me. Don't tell me you didn't have anywhere else to go. Don't tell me…" He ground his teeth and brought his voice down another octave. "Don't ask me what they do to twelve year old girls. I already know. And you should have known better."

"You did what you thought you had to do. And I did what I thought I had to do." Her voice was soft but not kind. Resentment was coming off her in waves.

Riddick never made it to the bar. He stalked out of the suite instead.

Jack took a swig off the bottle she was holding. "Well, that went better than I was expecting," she said brightly.

Zemma kept her voice as neutral as she could manage. "You've been saving that up?"

"For five years." Jack wasn't looking to apologize for it.

"People do strange things to protect the ones they love."

"Bullshit. He never loved me. He made me think it, but he never really did."

"He mourned you once. Don't make him mourn you again."

Jack looked at Zemma with a raised eyebrow. "Are you threatening me?"

Zemma laughed. This child was like a kit, all teeth and no mass.

Still like her?

I don't know. We'll see. Riddick loves her…

Or the memory of her.

"There's a bath down this way. I'll find something to fit you." Zemma walked away from the seething Jack, still not knowing who she was. Jack would either follow her, or not. Then she might be able to ask some questions of her own…

Or not.