Where To Stand
When they became aware of something other than each other, they could hear music blaring from the main rooms.
"Gonna have to spank that kid."
"Riddick… give her time to get adjusted. I'm sure none of this is what she ever imagined."
None of me, that is.
"I did what I could. What does she want from me?"
Zemma just looked at him. He knew what Jack wanted, what she always wanted. A protector, a father… a lover? Zemma could see it from across the room, and across five years.
"I can't give her what she wants."
"Be something else then."
That was met with silence. But she expected as much. Riddick would do whatever he would do at the moment; he decided in the Now. Zemma walked to the shower without further comment. She'd have preferred a bath but didn't want to walk through the suite naked. She was glad this room had a shower of it's own.
"Meanwhile, plan on keeping her here in the suite? Or should I find her a suite?"
"Jaron has room."
This time it was Zemma's turn to be silent. It made perfect sense. It would keep Jack on the Lord's level rather than further down in the soldiers' ranks. And Jaron was as wonderful a father figure as any girl could hope to have.
Except he was Zemma's father figure.
"Should I talk to him?" Zemma tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice. Jaron would no doubt agree. And would probably be a good influence on the girl. But between losing training time with him, which he didn't even know about yet, and Jack being there… Zemma felt a little put out.
Riddick came up behind her and bit her shoulder. "You don't like it."
"It's perfect." Her voice was light, and not fooling him one bit. "I can understand how Jack feels, I've never had to share anyone before either."
That got a laugh. "You think that's the problem."
"She doesn't want to share Kyra with you. She doesn't want to share you with me. I don't want to share Jaron with her."
"But you're okay sharing me with her?" Mockery.
"Do I have to share?" She let her voice tease him. He let his hands tease her. Zemma slipped out of the shower and his grasp. "We're not going to get anything done this way!" She laughed.
Zemma dressed and braided her hair while Riddick finished his shower. Back to her work grays and back to work. With the commotion yesterday she had missed all of her training sessions. If they were on the move, W'Rdah will expect her to be on time.
On the move…fourteen class A ships, like the flag ship. So damn many people to consign to death in this war.
Death Seekers, remember.
And the crews?
Not yet the Now.
And eventually the breeder ship, the laboratories, not a class A but still large. Zemma didn't like to think of the people in stasis there, but they would have to deal with them eventually.
Time to deal with Jack, or Riddick might distract you again.
Zemma could smile about that at least.
Jack was dancing around to music Zemma didn't even know they had in the database. When Jack noticed her she stopped.
"Oh, 'bout damn time. Glad to know you know how to do something right." She tipped her head towards the bedroom.
Zemma actually laughed out loud at that, and had to control herself from laughing even more at Jack's disgruntled face. "You've had all morning to think about it, and that's the best you can do?" Zemma tipped her head over the way it maddened her when Riddick did it.
Jack's face froze, lips drawn into a tight line and eyes glaring.
Zemma kept a benign smile on her face and turned towards the menu console. "You can order over here. There's no lock on that." She was sure Jack knew enough to order herself breakfast.
She turned back just as Riddick came out of the bedroom, took a look at Jack's face, and arched an eyebrow at Zemma. Zemma just tipped one shoulder a little bit in reply. 'What can I do?'
"You forget manners in slam, Jack?"
"Only new bints freak out about privacy in prison, Riddick, you forget that?"
"Good a reason as any to stay the hell out of em. And only new fish look anyway." Riddick's voice could have been quite a bit harsher than it was. Zemma hoped Jack would notice that too.
Jack laughed. "Now what, Old Man? You gonna keep me prisoner here, or pat my ass and send me on my way?"
"Whaddya want, Jack? I wont keep ya if you have other business." Riddick shrugged and threw out one arm indicating the whole ship. "But you'll miss all the excitement." His tone was dry.
Jack snorted.
Zemma busied herself ordering breakfast and clearing the table of the previous night's dishes to put outside the door.
"If I stay, do I get a room with my own little piece of ass…"
Jacks words were cut off by the sound of someone being slapped, hard. Zemma turned; Jack was on the floor holding her jaw with a smirk on her face. Riddick was standing still, looking down on her as if he hadn't moved.
"Careful, there, Old Man, someone might get the idea that you're violating Riddick Rule number two… no emotional attachments to make you weak." She was smiling, and her voice was amused. "Hate to think the Old Man had a weak spot. Someone might take advantage of that. Counter-survival, you know. And that's rule number one." Jack didn't try to get off the floor.
"You got a death-wish, Jack? Keep pushin' my buttons."
"Didn't know you had any." Jack put her hand out to him. "Just wanted to know where I stand."
"You can stand where you want, Jack, but I suggest it be on my good side." He pulled her up.
"Wouldn't dream of it being any other way." Jack's voice was cool, trying to sound reasonable.
Zemma thought there were probably lots of dreams hiding away behind the tough as nails façade. She turned back to the table. She hoped Jack would cool it now that she had achieved her goal: ruffling Riddick's feathers enough to be sure she had his attention. She didn't really think Riddick would kill the girl just for annoying him.
But you don't really know him well enough to be sure.
No. I'm sure. He wouldn't kill her for that.
Didn't really think he'd knock her down, either.
'I can't give her what she wants.'
I think you just did. Why?
Because he can't be something else?
Nature of the beast?
Zemma glanced over her shoulder. Riddick was looking at her, unreadable.