And now we have part 3 in the ever expanding-ness of 'the Job'. This ain't the end…it's mutated again and more and more keeps coming out. The complete opposite to writer's block, I'm now having a writer's flood!

Thankies to all of you who have reviewed! You are so nice! Hope you like part 3 and again sorry that it is so short. Part four may be a little longer in coming coz I'm back at university on Monday but I'll see how it goes…

Happy Reading!

Gem

Xxx

The Job (part 3).

"So…" he said scrubbing the ash into the grain of the wood, then flicking a finger up to indicate her face. "See you met the doc…"

Jack grinned broadly and tossed Riddick an unexpected wink of confirmation.

"Sure did." She drawled, elongating her vowels and giving her speech an insinuating twang. Riddick had spent every single second since he had entered her cell manipulating her, playing with her head. It just wouldn't be polite of her not to return the favour and to her inner glee Riddick seemed to be taking the bait.

He sat pondering her comment, her tone, running a hand over his stubbly jaw unaware of her mind games. In then end he decided not to press for the details of how exactly she had found Pope Joe down in the bowels of the 'Bay' or how she had managed to pay for such an exorbitant treatment. A shudder almost skittered down his spine at some of the ideas that his beast was flashing before his mind's eye but he forced them down, back into darkness and instead turned his mirror-bright stare back to Jack.

She sat almost languidly before him with an astute smile tingling on her lips as if she had seen his thoughts and found them titillating.

"Oh, don't worry, Riddick." She said jovially, tossing her head back briefly to unleash a bleat of hilarity before leaning across the distance between them and giving his shoulder an ersatz pat of condolence. His large, well-muscled arm dwarfed her spread palm with ease and he glanced down at it as she withdrew, nostrils flaring in an attempt to keep his temper under control and himself from snatching up her retreating wrist and snapping it neatly in two.

"I didn't sell my body to get the shine job, if that's what's buggin' you." She continued to laugh and stretched her arms above her head, bones popping in her neck and shoulders. "Can't say that it would have made much difference if I had, though. I'm already second hand goods." She paused, mid-stretch, her arms still high as she contemplated her own words. "Well, actually it's more plausible to say that I'm something along the lines of fifty-eth hand goods…I stopped counting after that…" her eyes focused magnetically onto his as her voice waned and she halted to take a breath. The looks of joking and humorous self-scorn that where plastered on her face did not, however, reach as far as her eyes and Riddick could plainly perceive the pain lurking beneath the thin layer of jewel-like gleam as if he were glimpsing a rock beneath the dazzling surface of the sea. It was there, he could see it, he just didn't know how deep it went, whether he could reach his hand down and find that the water was merely a few inches or fathoms in depth? Would the hurt in her eyes be conquerable, could he erase it? Or were the scars on her soul enduring?

For a second time Riddick realised that Jack was talking without his awareness and he re-focused his eyes on her as she placed her hands on her back just above her kidneys and pushed, arching herself so that her chest thrust forwards and her spine crackled in protest. The fleeting, haunted look that had passed behind her glassy pools had vanished back beneath the hard, outer shell that she had created, no doubt stowing that small glimmer of true emotion away from where Riddick could touch on it. Away from where he could feed it and bring the true Jack back out.

"I've banged men to get what I wanted before." She announced with a smirk and Convict Jack was back and as large as life. She rolled her head on her shoulders, pulling at the kinks and cricks as if she was warming up for a sparring session. She probably was Riddick realised with a vague pang of regret, though he stifled it and turned his attention back to their slowly deteriorating conversation.

"Isn't that what all women do?" he queried with a taunting curl of his lip and Jack shook her head at him condescendingly as if he had added two and two together and ended up with seventy three and a half. She placed both hands carefully, almost reverently, onto the tabletop and drummed her fingers, left hand following a split second behind the right.

"That's a very blinkered way of looking at it, Riddick, but yes…Sometimes." She replied to his question, flicking absentmindedly at her hair as it coiled about her neck with an irritating tickle. Finally she set her hands back down, locking her fingers together into a small cup shape as if to keep them still. "There are two types of men in our world, Riddick. In the world of convicts and prisons. 'Course you could argue that all men are divided into these categories no matter where or who they are." She paused, her eyes of steel roaming over his body with a wry enjoyment. Her tongue slipped out from the captivity of her smart mouth and glazed her lips with a sheen of moisture, almost in anticipation. "Even you, Riddick." Her smile was tempting though she remained fierce as she continued to explain. "The first type are the men that you fuck to get something that you want." Her eyes lifted to the space just above his right shoulder, losing their diligence momentarily, as if she was remembering how many of those type of men she had pleasured. Then they snapped back to him, taking in the curve of his cheeks, his strong jaw, his usually full lips that were suddenly compressed together in a serious line. She gave a soundless snort, wiggling slightly to gain greater comfort in her torturously hard chair and cupping her chin in both of her hands, elbows drawn together as they rested on the hardwood. "Second type are those that you fuck for fun." Her mouth twirled into a girlish, imp-like grin that was severely out of place considering their topic of choice.

Riddick leaned forwards making the table creak beneath their combined weight. His eyes scorching into hers, searching for her meaning deep in those words, deep in her actions.

"Alright." He said after a long instant, giving the tabletop a light slap with the palms of his hands. "Here's one for your little theory." His eyes glinted with curiosity as he leaned closer still, his head quirking to one side in consideration. "Where do the rapists fit in?"

Jack stilled, understanding the reason for his question. He wanted to find out her mental state over the mercs incident. Sure, she had flipped out a bit before but she had long since stopped feeling sorry for herself, all that did was send you in a downwards spiral towards depression and it was near impossible to claw your way back out. She nodded her head almost as if she was impressed that he had worked up the nerve to ask her his question.

"Okay." she began, prodding the table between where his palms lay spread wide. "Say you get cornered by a rapist who you can't fight off and who is gonna pop a cap in your ass if you don't behave yourself. You're gonna go along with it coz you want to live, right?" she cocked an eyebrow at him and she looked almost studious. It was obviously something that she had given a great deal of thought and Riddick again found himself wishing that he could have gutted the men who had taken her from New Mecca and changed his Jack so drastically.

Her snort brought him out of his murderous contemplations and she shook her head gently. She was beginning to notice his little spells of musing and no doubt the reason for them as well. She tilted her head in a sharp, quirky jerk, her eyes flashing silently, telling him that if he didn't like her answers he should stop asking the questions.

"After all, Riddick." She continued, her tone deceivingly jaunty. "What use is 'saving the rosary' for the right person if you're gonna end up dead?" there was a tinge to her eyes as she spoke that made Riddick scrutinize her more thoroughly. It was almost as if she was testing him, giving him some hint in her mercury glossed pupils. Their incandescent spheres almost pleading with him to speak the words that only Jack herself knew that she wanted to hear. He remained wordless, unable to translate her ambiguous glances just yet…

She sat back in disappointed silence abruptly, dragging her hands back along the surface of the table to land in her lap with a soft thwack, her eyes suddenly intent on studying the grain of the wood as Riddick noted her every movement with consternation, his brows drawing up to knot in concern. Incongruous emotions flickered across her face while she glared at the table as though in devout fascination. The silver purple colour that Riddick saw her in darkening on the apples of her cheeks suggesting a blush had risen, though he was perplexed as to why embarrassment unexpectedly rushed her body. Finally he cleared his suddenly thick throat earning a glancing flash of silver from where her head remained drooped.

"What about if you love someone?" he asked softly and her head did lift up at that, her eyebrows raised slightly as if the question had been unexpected. "What category does a man you love come in?"

Jack remained silent and still, the only movement in her face being the odd blink of her long lashed lids and the grinding of her jaw, teeth against teeth as she rolled his words about her mind. "Love?" she asked very nearly scornfully after a long, suffering moment of deathly quiet. "I don't believe in it."

"Sure you do, Jack." Riddick replied in an attempt to alleviate the sombre atmosphere that was pressing down upon them so heavily that he could barely draw air into his lungs. "All girls believe in love. That their knight in shining armour will come and sweep them off their feet, fighting away dragons and ogres." He allowed himself a small, lopsided smirk though it fell from his face swiftly when Jack shook her head, pose brimming with solemnity. She looked older, much older than her nineteen years…and yet at the same time she was all of a sudden the scared child that she had been on that hellish planet.

"I'm not all girls, Riddick…" she replied quietly with a half-heart shake of her head, tresses dancing about her lean shoulders. "Ain't no knight in shining armour coming for me anytime soon…"

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Sorry its so short and sorry it's another cliffhanger-ey type thingy-ma-jig. I should learn to stop at more appropriate intervals! Hope you like! Any hints, tips, criticism or comments are welcomed with my wide open arms!