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

TY as always to my wonderful beta and her Riddickisms!

Harder and Softer

Zemma got in bed wearing her silky things. She loved the feel of them and rather hoped Riddick would come to bed and enjoy them too. Didn't sound like it would be soon.

So Zemma listened to the noises of the game while sleep eluded her. Jack sounded drunker and louder. Jokes were getting bawdier. Laughter was getting shorter. And still Zemma couldn't sleep. She listened to Jaron and Don make their goodbyes, then there was only the random clink of the chips as if someone was idly playing with them.

She wondered if the silence was as hard to take for the two left out there as it was for her.

"You're pretty wasted, kid. There's the couch. Sleep it off."

"I do what I wanna do now, ol' man."

"Good for you, kid."

"Quit calling me that!"

"Sure, Jack, whatever."

"Why didn't you come for me, Riddick?" This last was so pathetic that Zemma felt tears pop into her eyes. She wished she had already fallen asleep, or had less than stellar hearing, at least.

"You know the answer to that, Jack. You knew it then too. Where I go, bad things follow. What I do, young girls shouldn't witness." Weariness.

"I already saw too much. You couldn't turn back the clock by abandoning me."

"I left you safe, kid."

"Jack!"

"I left you safe with Imam, Jack. He wanted to take care of you."

"And you didn't."

"Just different ways of protecting you. Mine meant living on an ice ball without a name so the real monsters of the universe wouldn't accidentally shoot your ass." He sounded irritated.

"Yah. Or use me for bait." Sarcasm.

"Did you really join the mercs like Kyra said?" Disgust in his voice.

"Yah." Insolent.

"And Kyra?"

"I don't want to talk about her."

Zemma could hear the pain maybe more than Riddick. Or perhaps it didn't matter to him. Possibly his version of tough love?

"But you could talk to her about me?" Riddick sounded livid now. "Don't I deserve a little more respect than that? She used me to break her out of slam. Crematoria, Jack! Why'd you leave her there?"

"She told me to go. She couldn't make it and I'd never have made it with her. I had to leave her. I had to survive. Riddick rule number one. At least she loved me enough to let me…"

Jack trailed off too late. She had boxed herself into a corner. Kyra had loved her enough to let her go on without her.

Riddick had too.

Zemma didn't think Jack was ready to give in yet.

"You never really loved me. Did you? Did you ever love me? I needed you so much; did you want me back, even a little?"

The silence was long and agonizing, even to Zemma. How badly would it hurt her to ask the same question and get the same response?

To her credit, Jack didn't cry. She may be young but Riddick had said she was tough.

"Go crash on the couch, Jack. Sleep it off."

There was another long silence. After a few minutes, Zemma got out of bed and tread quietly to the door. Jack was on the couch, arms wrapped around herself, and just starting to snore like only a drunk can. Riddick was halfway between her and the bedroom, looking back at Jack. Zemma walked up as silently as she could. He made no obvious movement, but she knew when he became aware of her. She went to his side and put one arm through his and around his back. The other hand she put on his chest and looked up into his face.

"You loved her enough to let her go," she whispered.

His glance down at her said, 'you heard that, huh?'

"She's just so young. She'll understand someday."

Riddick put his arm around her back and turned her to the bedroom.

Subject closed.

Zemma shut the door and led Riddick to the bed. She could see the tension in his shoulders. She pulled at his shirt but he had to pull it off over his head. When she started lightly tracing his muscles with her fingertips he grabbed both her hands in his own and looked into her eyes.

"Not tonight, ok?"

She smiled, extricating one hand to lay on his cheek. "I'm not making demands. I just want to help you relax. May I?"

He nodded.

"Sit." She pushed him to the edge of the bed and climbed behind him to rub his shoulders and neck.

"Where'd ya learn that?"

"I didn't. It just feels right. Tell me if you want it harder or softer."

"Harder feels good."

"Lay down then."

Riddick took off the rest of his clothes and lay down. Zemma sat a little behind his tailbone and worked her fingers hard into his muscles, slowly moving towards his neck before starting over. Then she worked on each shoulder, scooting up to get better leverage.

"That's nice."

"Good. Roll over and let me work the front of you."

He did. She straddled his stomach, working the muscles of his chest and shoulders. After a few minutes she ended with light traces of her fingertips again, from his jaw line down. His hands rubbed at the silky fabric of her trousers, then slowly up under her shirt.

"Not tonight?" Zemma's voice was lightly mocking.

"This relaxes me too," he grumbled but she could see his smile.

After a few minutes he pulled her down for a kiss and rolled her over onto her back.

"You keep this up, and I will be making demands," she told him when he let her up for air.

"I guess I don't mind after all."

"I waited for more than a decade for you. I can wait till morning."

He looked at her strangely for a moment. "I can't," he murmured against her skin.