Chapter 4

Toombs heaved a sigh and collapsed into the bench behind a large, circular booth in the corner of the bar, shaking his head. Kat chuckled to herself, watching James fight back the laughs. Kat had to admit that Toombs, or T as they called him in public now, did much better than she'd expected. She knew he'd be able to handle the pressure, but he caught on fast, even trying a few bottle spinning tricks. It was a good thing they had more booze on backorder.

"Man, you did a number on my stock, darlin'," she called, winking at James from across the room. James let out a snicker, focusing harder on the table he was wiping down to keep from laughing out loud. Toombs picked his head up, a tired grin on his face.

"Good thing it was the cheap shit, though, right?"

"I don't know…" she said. "The cheap shit tends to go faster." He shrugged, sitting up and leaning on the backrest of the bench. "Why don't you make yourself useful and start wiping down tables?" she asked, chucking a wet towel at him. He grumbled, but caught it out of the air and started at the end opposite from where James was working.

"Did better than I thought," James said. "You actually made it through the whole night."

"Wasn't that hard," Toombs said quietly. Kat glanced up at him with a smirk.

"Kat's gone through five trainees in the past four months," James offered. "Just walked in and wanted to help out. What was the record, Kat?"

"Two hours," she said, "but it was a Friday night when they started so it wasn't exactly a fair chance."

"Intentionally?" Toombs asked. Kat turned around as she shrugged, hiding her grin as she capped the liquor bottles. "I saw that smile," he chided. Finally, she let out a laugh.

"Yeah, it was intentional. I don't need any more tenders," she said quietly. "Me and James seem to do a good job. We work well together, people are used to us." A small shrug. "The people here don't like change. They want to walk into a bar and know who they're dealing with." Toombs nodded, taking the last table left to be wiped down. James twirled his towel around a finger as he walked back to the bar, dropping it into the bucket of soapy water. "You can go ahead and bounce, James," she said, smiling at the man. His eyebrow rose. "I'm gonna show him how to close up. Go make your wife squeal." James laughed at that, shaking his head.

"Y'all planning on coming out to our place for summer solstice?" Kat glanced at Toombs quickly, who was staring back at her blankly.

"It's a big deal here," she explained with a small smile. "The winters are so cold they celebrate the longest day of the year during the summer." His eyebrow rose, but he nodded, and she turned back to James. "I don't know yet," she told him. "Have to talk about it."

"Let us know," he said, tossing a glance to Toombs. She nodded, waving as he walked through the door.

"Will you lock up?" she asked quietly. Toombs nodded, going to the door and turning the lock with a loud click. "You did good." He shrugged, leaning against the bar as he scratched his chin. A smirk lit his face as she slapped a shot glass down in front of him, wiggling her eyebrows as she nodded behind her to the collection of bottles lined up in front of the mirror on the back wall. "What'll ya have?"

"Thought there was no drinking on the job," he said slowly. She chuckled, adding a glass to his and filling it with her usual brand of whiskey.

"No customers, door's locked, and all that's left is counting." He shrugged, and she rolled her eyes, turning and grabbing the stuff she used to serve him during his visits.

"So how long will I have to do this before you'll let me get to my real job?" he asked, clinking his glass against hers before they both downed the shots.

"When you can take three orders at once without confusing them or getting flustered we'll talk about it," she said, taking his glass from him and turning them both into the crate waiting to be loaded into the washer. "Take that crate back to the washer and load it up. All you gotta do is push the green button." He nodded, hoisting the crate onto his shoulder. She smiled, shaking her head as he kicked open the door to the back room. He stood at the counter as she counted down the drawer, his eyes widening as she wrote the day's profits on the envelope.

"Damn," he whispered.

"Not as great as you're thinking," she chuckled, shaking her head. "Mortgage is 500 UDs a month. Power's usually about ninety. Booze, shit. Depends on how busy it is, but last year it averaged 2000 a month. Plus repairs, water bill, replacing broken glasses, trash service, sewage, and, and, and…"

"Christ."

"Why do you think I worry so much about the cold season?" she asked quietly. "It gets too damn frigid out there for people to even try to walk down the street for groceries, much less spend time in a fuckin' bar."

"I didn't know it got that bad," he said gently, following her into the back room. She blocked his view of the safe combination again, locking up the money and register key before turning to him for a moment. She shrugged and headed up the stairs. He only watched her for a moment, then followed, closing and locking the door behind him.

"We'll make it." He rubbed her shoulders for a moment, both of them standing in the middle of her apartment. "I need to go into town tomorrow," she said, letting her head fall back against his shoulder.

"Want me to go with you?"

"If you want to," she said with a small shrug. A rumble vibrated in his chest as he pressed his lips to the side of her neck, her hand reaching behind her to wrap around his neck. "You tired?"

"Wasted," he chuckled. She laughed as well, pulling out of his hands and walking into the bedroom. He followed, scratching his head as he yawned. She felt his eyes on her as she changed and slipped under the covers. He peeled his shirt off, tossing it over the back of her desk chair, his jeans following. As he crawled under the sheets, she slid across the bed, pressing her back to his chest. A low, rumbling chuckle escaped him, and she smiled as his arm slid around her, pulling her tighter.

"I still can't believe you're here," she nearly whispered. His arm tightened around her in a light squeeze, and she felt him kiss the back of her neck.

"Will be tomorrow, too," he mumbled. She let out a contented sigh, closing her eyes to concentrate on feeling him at her back again.

---

The rain pounded on the windows, but the communications system was able to filter it out, the conversation unobstructed. Four fingers tapped on the desk nervously as the call went through, three quiet pings signaling the connection.

"You got something for me or are you just interrupting the little time I have to go out and get laid for shits and giggles?" A harsh voice asked. A quick smile, and then back to business.

"Heard you talkin' a while back about that merc bein' dead," a man said, adjusting the volume control on his system.

"Yeah, what about it?" the other asked.

"He's not."

"What?!"

"I can tell you how to find him," the man continued, his tone carrying the message that there would be negotiations first.

"What the fuck makes you so sure?"

"Trust me. You want him or not?"

"Why the fuck would I? Unless he's back in business and driving my profits down, I don't give a shit."

"He won't stay out for long. And besides," the man said with a quiet chuckle. "You have a beef with him anyway. Didn't he leave you behind on one of the Lupus planets?"

"Yeah. Four. But that was eight years ago."

"Don't tell me you're fuckin' over it. Especially since he's planning on coming back."

"You're sure he's coming back."

"Yes. But does it matter? Revenge is fucking revenge," the man trying to peddle his information said, his voice rising slightly.

"How do I find him?"

"Tell me what's in it for me first."

"Hey, you called me if I remember right," the other said over the system. "You're the one that brought it up. Just fucking tell me."

"My time is worth money, asshole," the man spat hatefully. "Give me a price and I'll consider whether or not I'll tell you where to find him.

"Five thousand."

"Wasting my fucking time," the dealer grumbled.

"Okay, fine. Eight. Not more."

"Deal." The information was relayed and the conversation terminated.

---

Toombs started bouncing a few weeks after showing up at Kat's following his two year absence. He'd sit at a corner booth against the far wall, just watching over the bar. Kat would keep his glass full of iced tea, and he'd just sit back and monitor. It was a Friday night, crazy busy as usual, and Kat and James both were running around behind the bar frantically. But he only sat back and watched, as per his job description. There had already been a couple of little tussles, but nothing major. Toombs had just stood and approached those involved and they quieted down, settling for casting angry glares across the room at each other. They'd either settle it in a nearby alley after leaving the bar or pass out and forget about it until the next time they got too drunk to control themselves. Such was the nature of the business. He heard the door open and close and glanced up, not seeing anyone new coming in. Figured someone must have just left. His eyes darted around, but he couldn't think of who it could have been. Everyone in the bar now had already been here, and there wasn't anyone he could tell was missing. He glanced over at the bar, and Kat was already walking towards him, her face slightly pale, jaw set. His eyebrow rose, and he started to stand, but she shook her head, closing the distance.

"What's up?" he asked quietly as she leaned over the table to get closer to him without getting boxed into the booth.

"We've got a serious problem," she whispered. His brows furled. "Riddick." Toombs' blue eyes widened, then narrowed as he started searching. "He's at the bar. James has him. Peppermint schnapps."

"Doesn't mean anything, Kat," he said, catching the implication she drew from the drink Riddick had chosen. "Just keep quiet for now. Don't come back here, don't look over here. Don't act like you recognize him. What did you tell James?"

"I needed another bottle of vodka." He nodded.

"Get it and get back. Anything happens, drop a glass." She nodded, turning toward the back room.

---

When Riddick walked into the bar, he'd known he was recognized the minute the door swung shut behind him. He felt two pairs of eyes on him, one from the bar and one from a back table somewhere. The girl had sent him a tight smile and told the male bartender they were out of vodka. Once he'd given the male bartender, James was his name, his order, his eyes had slid over to the collection of bottles lined up neatly in front of a giant mirror. Unless she kept a bottle up her ass, there was no room for another supposedly missing bottle of vodka. His eyebrow rose, and he hid his smirk behind his glass. She appeared a few moments later, hurrying into the back room. He wondered for a moment where she'd been looking for the vodka. No other doors in this place, just the front door and the one leading to the back room, most likely the stock room.

"Who's the girl?" he asked quietly once James came a little closer. Just then, the girl burst back into the room, boots thumping madly across the floor, vodka bottle in hand. It was a brand already out on display, and she set it in a cabinet, along with several other bottles already there. Damn. Double stocked, Riddick thought with a mental grimace. Maybe his instincts were getting a little duller lately. Okay, so stocked on the counter, stocked in the cabinet, and stocked in the back. She over order? James' brows shot up, and he nodded over his shoulder toward the girl now smiling at a customer as she juggled a bottle in her hand, spinning it around her fingers and behind her to come over her shoulder, catching it and pouring several shots without spilling a drop. "Impressive," Riddick said quietly, brow still quirked.

"She owns the place," James said. Riddick nodded slowly, turning back to his drink. "But I wouldn't even try if I were you. She's hands off to all the customers. Got a man," he explained.

"Really."

"Yup."

"Hmm," Riddick mumbled, lifting his glass to his lips. He rubbed an eye with a finger, unnoticeably adjusting the colored contacts hiding his shine. Didn't want a silver edge to peek out when he was trying to blend in and all. A bottle clunked against the counter next to him and he looked up quickly, staring into a pair of eyes holding his gaze without wavering. He made a show of looking her over, and a confident smirk slid onto her lips.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asked quietly, tilting her head to the side. He took a slow, deliberate breath and leaned back a little on his stool as he cocked a brow at her. A hint of a genuine smile touched her lips, and she shrugged, refilling his glass. "Haven't seen you here before," she continued. "I've found that the best way to keep my bar open is to learn my customers' names and a little something about them. Make it a more personal, tailored experience." A low chuckle vibrated in his throat, and her smile grew. "What's your name?"

"Why do you want to know my name?" he asked, watching the goosebumps rise on her skin at the depth of his voice. A slight flush touched her cheeks.

"I just told you," she said, shaking her head slightly as she stood up, still clutching the bottle. He glanced at her hand, noticing she wasn't hanging onto the damn thing extremely tight, like she was so scared she needed something to ground herself on. No, either she had no idea who he was or she just flat out didn't give a shit. "I like to know a little something about my customers."

"I'm a customer you don't want to know anything about," he said calmly. "That's a little something about me." She chuckled a little, leaning toward him against the bar again.

"Doesn't count. You're not playing fair," she chided playfully. She heard the low growl, then felt James' hand on her back. Riddick couldn't help but chuckle as she turned and glared at the man, whispering a few choice words before kicking his foot. James smirked, his own chuckle vibrating in his throat. "You were saying," she said, cocking her eyebrow at him in a warning as she turned back to him.

"If you've really got that bad of a hard-on for me, my name's Rick," Riddick chuckled, lifting his glass to his lips.

"Rick," she repeated. "You sure you haven't been here before?" He shook his head slowly, eyeing her. "You look familiar."

"I've just got one of those faces." Her laugh lilted in his ears, and he found himself smiling.

"Yeah, that must be it," she said with a small shrug. "Let me know if you need anything," she added, tapping a finger on the bar in front of him before turning back to what seemed to be her half of the long counter. He watched her for a while, but she gave no indication she was glancing at someone to warn them, not feeling along the underside of the bar for a security alarm button or anything. Nothing to let him know whether or not he'd freaked her out or that she knew who he really was. She glanced at him from time to time, a small smirk playing on her lips, but he couldn't tell whether it was because she was pleased to have gotten his name out of him or if she was playing him. He kept his face expressionless as he watched her, trying to figure her out. At one point, she caught his eyes on her and met them, her own eyes as unreadable as his, and that frustrated him. She walked back to him, reaching for a bottle of peppermint schnapps as she passed, but he shook his head. Her steps halted, brows furrowing. She grabbed the booze anyway, setting it down silently next to him. Her fingers ran down the label, and she spun the bottle around in a slow circle. "I know you're not turning down my good booze," she warned, that playful smirk returning to her lips. "Not even if it's on me." His brow rose at that, and he looked away, smiling slightly.

"I never get drunk, sweetheart," he chuckled. "Not even for you." She clicked her tongue at him.

"You're not even close," she whispered, winking at him as she filled his glass again. "I'll even cut it with tonic water for ya. Make it a little weaker for your pussy stomach." His smile fell, but the smirk she wore was just too damn alluring. His eyes shifted over her shoulder of their own volition, and he knocked the shot glass off the table. She jumped back to avoid the flying shards. "What the fuck?!" she gasped, watching him stand with an animalistic growl, walking along the bar and shoving people out of his way. Her head snapped over her shoulder, eyes widening as Toombs rose from his table, stepping down onto the main floor. "No," she whispered.

Patrons standing nearby quickly moved, creating a small circle around the pair of men standing about a body length away from each other, arms hanging loosely at their sides, just staring at each other. Toombs wore his usual cocky smirk, and Riddick's glower just made the smirk widen.

"So you finally got away from them, huh?" Toombs finally said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Thought I fed you to the animals," Riddick spat back. Toombs' brow rose, but he didn't say anything.

"I'm out, guy," Toombs said quietly. "Why don't you chill the fuck out, sit down and have a drink and we can talk this over like adults, huh?"

"I've got nothing to say to you," Riddick growled, his lip curling just slightly. Suddenly, the girl was in the middle, and his eyes narrowed down at her. She settled her hands on her hips, taking a few steps toward him.

"Kat…" Toombs trailed off when she held a hand behind her to silence him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. She placed her left foot between Riddick's, her right along the outside of his left, her body almost touching his. He watched her stare at his chest for a moment before looking up at him and taking a breath.

"Why don't you sit down and have a drink," she whispered. "He doesn't have any weapons. Just wants to talk. Give him that much, Riddick." He pulled back, taking a step away from her when she whispered his name, his eyes snapping up to Toombs. Toombs just stood there, watching Kat stare up at Riddick with an expression somewhere between concerned and disillusioned. "Please." His eyes snapped back to hers, and he realized the whole bar was silent and watching. He glanced around, finally brushing past her, nearly knocking her over, and grudgingly plopped down at the table, eyebrow quirked in a challenge to Toombs. Toombs cracked a nervous smile, then shot a look to Kat before turning to Riddick and taking a seat across from him. Kat let out a sigh, turning back towards the bar. "Party's over, fellas. Drink up. It's on me." With the last sentence, she glared at Riddick over her shoulder, kicking open the access gate to the bar. Once she'd served out one free one to each of her customers, she clapped James on the shoulder, leaning in to speak to him. "You can handle the bar. I'll be back in a minute."

"Kat…" he trailed off, the expression in her eyes making the words stop in his throat. She nodded, turning away from him.

"So you're out," Riddick finally said, glancing back to the bar to watch Kat struggle to fill the glasses she'd promised her patrons.

---

"Yeah," Toombs said, following his gaze. "I've got a reason to keep myself in one piece."

"And you didn't before?" Riddick's tone was condescending, but Toombs only laughed.

"I did, just didn't know it," Toombs answered, tearing his gaze from Kat to focus on Riddick. "Look, man. I don't give a shit whether there's still a price on your head. I promised her I was done."

"How'd you meet her?" He shot Riddick a glance, but the expressionless face only blinked, waiting for the response. Toombs sighed, sliding into a slouch in the bench.

"Same way you did," he said quietly. "Walked in here on a stop between runs. Never got serious until you had to raise such a fucking stink and get such a big price." Riddick chuckled. "I was here when I got the call, actually," he said, his voice a little more sobered. "It was the first time she'd ever asked me not to go. First time she even looked like she didn't want me to go."

"The creed is greed, Toombs." Toombs shot him a look.

"And you?"

"Me?" Riddick paused to glance around the bar. "I'm layin' low. Necros probably figured out I jumped fence by now." Toombs' chuckle started low in his throat, turning into a loud rumble as Riddick continued. "Hell, they probably want their fuckin' transport back. Too bad I trashed the piece of shit."

"So now what?" Riddick shrugged. "Yeah, like you'd tell me anyway." Another noncommittal shrug. Two glasses appeared on the table, and Kat leaned against the table with no expression to read. Riddick eyed her for a moment, then turned to Toombs with an amused smile.

"You drinkin' iced tea, Toombs?"

"He's on the job," Kat said. Toombs shot her a look, but she gave it right back to him. "Don't call him by that here. He's done with it," she added, turning her stare back to Riddick. His brow rose slowly, head tilting as he looked at her. "Your drinks are on me for the night." Toombs' head snapped over to her. "Behave yourself," she added with a wicked and forced smile. She turned to walk away, her eyes meeting Toombs'.

---

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Kat sighed, leaning back against the door to the apartment after closing it. She let her head rest back against the wood, closing her eyes. "You know, I'm actually surprised he didn't just fucking strangle you right then and there, in front of everyone down there. What the fuck is wrong with you?" Her eyes opened slowly, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning on him.

"He didn't," she said flatly. "He didn't touch me, didn't yell at me, didn't look at me wrong. I got him to play nice a hell of a lot faster than you would have. Might as well have just stuck your arms in the air and told him you wanted to take it up the ass from him."

"What the fuck got into you?" He was red-faced now, staring pitchforks at her, complete with cow manure dripping from the tips.

"You were making a scene in my bar," she said quietly, turning his glare back on him. His eyebrow rose. "You didn't have the balls to kick him out when he first came in and he was gonna see you eventually, so I took care of it."

"Took care of it? Took care of it how?" She huffed, shaking her head as she brushed past him into the kitchen, but he grasped her elbow, slamming her against the wall, and this time it wasn't just playing.

"I flirted with him to get him interested in me and keep his attention away from you," she hissed. "You're fucking lucky I did too. Otherwise he would have seen you the minute he plopped his burly ass down at the bar. And when the shit hit the fan, I stepped in and talked him out of ripping your nuts off and shoving them up your nose, you miserable prick." His eyes narrowed, and he shoved her backwards into the wall a little harder. Her eyes narrowed. "Every fucking person in that bar was staring at you two like you were idiots. I had to give away a shit load of drinks to divert attention so you could work out your lovers' quarrel. And you want to know what's wrong with me? Grow the fuck up and handle your shit like a fucking adult or kick his ass out of my bar the second he steps in. That's your fucking job, Toombs." She was screaming now, just as he'd done to her. "Get your fingers out of my skin or I'll rip your nuts off and shove them up your goddamn nose myself." He let her go, and before he could think she would do it, she hauled off and connected a hard right cross, smack in the cheek. He spun around, nearly whacking his head on the corner of the breakfast bar, and she sighed, shaking her head. Just as he turned around, she grabbed her trench coat and slammed the door behind her. "Don't you fucking follow me," she called from the stairwell, her voice hollow through the door.

"Fuck," he muttered, shaking his head. He slid to the floor, his head in his hands. As his cheek started to throb, he indulged in a quick tantrum before getting to his feet, grabbing his coat and heading out the door.