One-Shot: It's Raining Riddick!

Rain poured down the empty streets. One figure was seated on the rooftops, waiting in the dimming haze. It was nearly impossible to determine the gender. The figure had been waiting for over an hour; close to two hours. The holy man-Imam had said she would show. Riddick tensed, hearing the boots over the pounding rain. It was her. His new "obsession."

Looking down the street, he saw a petite figure in a black cloak running into his view. The rain took this as a cue to pour even harder. Frustrated, he let out a low growl. He was so close, damn it! Letting out another quiet growl, he saw the figure again. Giving a confident smirk, he jumped from the rooftop, landing in front of the girl. Starltled, she stopped abruptly. Immediately she knew who he was.

Richard B. Riddick.

Taking a slight step back, she was prepared to run. Riddick stood and turned, lightning illuminating his features. The rain had forced his clothing to cling to his body, showing off every muscle. Giving a smirk, he grabbed the girl's arm. Feeling the muscles tense, he squeezed. She stifled a gasp and forcibly relaxed; if only somewhat. The girl was a painter and an underground fighter. The unlikely combination had piqued Riddick's interest, so he had taken her up as his new "hobby," meaning he stalked her. He had first seen her at Imam's temple, where she had been painting a mural. Imam had walked out of the back and saw Riddick, rushed him out, and then attempted to act as if nothing was wrong. So, Riddick had asked him "questions." That was a month ago. Now, he knew why she prompted the feelings in his body.

The girl had stopped moving, waiting for his move. The deep hood covered her face, hiding it from anyone. Loud boot steps were heard, and the pair stiffened. In one fluid motion, the girl took her arm back from Riddick, took his wrist and fled. She led him on a maze of streets, alleys, and occasionally rooftops, before stopping at an apartment. Pausing slightly, she seemed to have a mental debate as to whether she should let him in. The loud echo of running boots made her decision. She winced and pulled him into the dark, shutting the door. Riddick pulled up his goggles, seeing they were in a house-like building. The girl had already moved silently up the steps, so Riddick followed.

Only to be met in the face by a cloak. It smelled delicious, like jasmine, and he smirked, pulling it off. Seeing the girl, he paused on the stairs looking at her. She seemed to be studying him, a bag in her left hand. Turning on her heel, she walked down the hall into a room. Not hearing a door close, Riddick took this as an invitation to follow. Walking silently, he reached the opened door and leaned on the frame, arms crossed.

"Why have you been following me?"

Riddick just looked at her back. She didn't even bother to turn. He noted her was silver-not gray, but pure metallic silver. Looking at the length, he guessed it hit her knees, but when she stood, it hit her ankles, braided. His groin tightened at a certain thought running through his head. She gave him a cold glance over her shoulder, a paintbrush in her mouth. Squatting on the floor again, she began putting paints in cans. Standing again and balancing the tray on her hip, she faced him. Removing the paintbrush from her mouth, she gave him another cold look. Stepping over the discarded paint tubes, she walked to the other side of the room. She placed the tray on an intricate table and moved out of Riddick's line of view. He heard a rustling of a heavy cloth. Following her example and stepping over the paint tubes, he saw what she was working on.

It was a four foot by two foot painting of Death over the world, but half was an angel trying to protect the world from the other half's scythe. Now, she was working on Death. The angel had been finished, painted as a darker version of the blonde angels and Death was Death.

"Are you going to answer my question?"

Riddick looked at her, his goggles still off. He shrugged. "A painter and an underground fighter. Interesting choice."

Her eyes narrowed. She stopped and became very, very still. Standing slowly, they never took their eyes off each other. She walked towards him and out the door. Waiting for him to follow, she shut the door. Riddick could feel the anger radiating off her. He tensed, preparing for a fight. She gave a short bitter laugh and leaned against the opposite wall, her arms crossed under her chest. Her face was hidden in the shadow, but the rest of her body was illuminated by the pale distorted light from the rain outside.

She made a slight movement with her left hand, and shifted her weight. Riddick moved. She barely had time to dodge, rolling out of the way and stopping with her back to the stairs, resting on the balls of her feet. Riddick turned and faced her, a small smile playing around his lips. He had a curved blade in his hand, his shiv; perfect for throwing. It was growing darker, the rain clouds and the night mixing. A low rumble shook the house. The girl swayed on her feet, waiting for him to move. Riddick waited for her.

Riddick gave in and moved first. Drawing a straight blade, he threw. She dodged, throwing her body to the side. Rolling, she felt him move. He had anticipated the move. Stopping on her back, she looked up and saw him. Delivering a kick aimed towards his belly, she gave a slight gasp when her leg was caught.

Bringing her other leg up, she attempted another kick. "What the fuck do you think you're trying to do?" Riddick questioned with a cocky grin on his face.

Holding both her legs in one arm, he chuckled. Moving fast, he dropped her legs and straddled her hips, pushing their hips together, effectively pinning her for now. Leaning down, he caught her arms and pinned them above her head. He was amused to see her eyes were a pale frost blue. Smirking, he used one hand to trace down the side of her face, stopping at her lips.

He felt her move, an attempt at dislodging him from his oh-so-comfortable position. Pressing down harder with his hips, he felt her go rigid. His cock was half erect, showing her he wanted her. Placing his mouth next to her ear, he whispered, "I know who you are, Edward, or should I say Kei?"

She bucked, attempting to throw him off. She managed to move them both off the ground a couple inches before falling back under the weight. Edward let out a soft growl, earning a chuckle from Riddick. Placing a chaste kiss on her lips, he proceeded to plant light, almost desperate kisses down her jaw and neckline. She growled in protest.

"I know you want more. Patience is a virtue." Riddick spoke against her skin, his breath caressing it.

"And severely beating a wanted, sexually deprived convict is a moral."

Riddick threw his head back and let out a laugh. "You're not doing a good job of keeping up that moral."

It was Edward's turn to smirk. "Oh, am I?"

She wriggled her hips, smirking when she felt him harden against her. "I never said physically, did I?"

Riddick chuckled, and shook his head no. Placing a slightly longer kiss on her lips, his expression softened into something foreign to them both. Edward shifted again. "If you want to continue this, the floor isn't the best place."

Riddick looked at her, and raised an eyebrow. His expression clearly stated he was comfortable where he was. Edward gave one final shift and moved. Twisting her wrists, she twisted out from under him, pushing him. She rolled to a squatting position. She had another blade in her hand.

He raised a hand to the side of his face. Feeling the blood there, he growled. Fucking bitch! She had given him a long but shallow cut. He growled deeper, louder this time and watched her tense. It was now completely dark, only occasionally lit by the blue lightning. She stood, moving to her fighting stance. His hand moved to the sheath at his side. He growled. She had his shiv.

She smirked. "Didn't think it would be easy, did you?"

Riddick chuckled. "I had hoped it was."

Her eyes narrowed but otherwise she remained completely still. Riddick walked casually over to her discarded knife. Picking it up, he turned tapping the knife on his thigh.

"Now, darlin', do you really want to fight me?" Riddick questioned, imitating a southern drawl. She growled. He walked over across from her and leaned against a door. He guessed it was her room. Watching her reaction, she gave a slight wince. He hit the nail right on the head. He grabbed the doorknob and turned. Edward ran at him full force. He let her hit him, driving them backwards into the room.

Halfway through the run, he had turned and managed to pin her under him again, but paid for it with his shirt. It now hung open, revealing his well toned chest and stomach muscles. This time, they were both lying on the bed. She bucked with more force, trying to get him off her. He was definitely turned on. That's what he wanted; straight fucking. Dodging her hand he freed, he hit a point on her neck, instantly relaxing all her muscles. She couldn't tense them up for a hit, so Riddick took the liberty of moving her up higher on the bed.

Removing the remains of his shirt, he also took off hers, revealing a black, helpfully low-cut tank, placing a nice amount of cleavage at his disposal. She growled, in protest unable to move. He smirked and settled back onto, effectively pinning her. Dear God, he wanted he so bad.

And he was determined to get her. Needless to say, he was shocked when she kissed him. His happy little friend just became ecstatic, leaving him with a full out erection. Leaning back, she had a cocky smirk; echoing his own.

"I won."

Those two words ended the fight. Riddick let her hands up and sat, straddling her hips. He nodded. "First time I lost and to a girl."

She grinned and snatched his lips once again. This time, the fight was with their tongues, not fists. They both battled for dominance, neither one backing away. Pulling apart for a breath, they both held predatory grins. She wriggled her hips, grinning at the look that passed over his face. He pulled off her shirt with one hand and his goggles with the other. She writhed down under him and licked along his collar bone, working his pants off. Successful, she placed a kiss at the hollow where his bones met at the base of his neck. He growled and she chuckled against his skin. He growled again, pulling her back up to him and crushing her lips under his. His hands wandered, lower until they hit the edge of her pants, lightly tracing the skin.

She shuddered, but didn't break the kiss. Finding the belt, it was off in seconds, along with the pants. Breaking for air, she licked the side of his temple. It was torturing him, but he wanted more. Violence, straight fucking. This time, he took complete control. Undoubtedly bruising her lips, he felt her respond. She managed to flip them over so she was on top. Her hair was miraculously still in her braid. He grabbed her hair, yanking it out so it hung free. She shook her head, sending it sliding over both of them.

Riddick flipped them over again and poised above her. She grinned and he entered. Licking her neck, he began to rock. She matched his pace and soon they were both moaning. Panting, they began to reach the climax. It was building, excruciatingly slow. She raked her nails across his back, moaning louder. He pounded faster, closer to coming.

She came first, calling his name. He followed, letting out a purely predatory shout. He pulled out of her, and began laughing, he finally teasing her body. Trailing his hands down, barely touching, he watched her squirm. Leaning back and sitting on he legs, he looked at her.

"Beautiful," he breathed, "Just beautiful."

That was two years ago. Edward was running down the streets, drenched even with her cloak on. A figure landed on the pavement in front of her, causing her to skid to a stop.

"Riddick," she stated.

He gave her a wolfish grin. Yanking her close, he wrenched her hood down and claimed her lips, marveling how much he had missed her. They broke and she grinned.

"You know something?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, what?"

She laughed. "It's raining Riddick!"

He grinned and kissed her again, hard.