The Requests of Dragons

The girl had a grace to her that Riddick hadn't seen before, but beneath that was the kind of training he was all too familiar with. Military, experimental. A single spin of the pipe through her hands and he knew he had to test her, had to know how fast and how strong she was. There had been no recognition in her eyes of what she was doing, in her world she really was dancing. It was the muscles that remembered when the mind was lost.

He'd heard stories of tests run on prisoners in Tangiers, shooting them full of chemicals and cutting into their brains. Like the doctor, he'd believed them to be no more than stories told to keep the rest of the prisoners terrified and quiet. The depravity of mankind no long horrified him. He didn't expect men to act like anything other than the animals they really were. Faith, hope. Neither had any meaning to him now; he'd murdered them as surely as any of the corpses he'd left behind.

It was a strange world he'd woken up in. The crew of Serenity was unlike anything he'd seen before. They'd turned the ship into their home, no longer a husk of metal and skin used to move from rock to rock. It closed them up safe and secure like a womb. They'd gotten too comfortable, safe in the belly of the sturdy little Firefly.

Comfortable enough that they sometimes forgot he was there, watching and listening to them. He wasn't familiar with the mix of languages that seemed to blend and blur into one. Picked up a few words here and there, figured their meaning from the rest of the sentence, and tried them out on his own tongue. Dong ma. He understood. A ship had never been more than a go-to vehicle for him so this raggedy band of outlaws intrigued him. They knew what it was to be always running from something.

There was military in Mal as well, and the dark skinned Zoe, but they lacked sophistication. He could see war in their eyes and knew better than to push them when he wasn't looking for trouble. As for the rest of the crew: the man they called Jayne made up for what he lacked in brains with sheer physical talent for violence, the preacher man had kept to himself and Riddick wasn't about to look that gift horse in the mouth. A holy man had no use for a convict and a convict had even less use for a holy man.

Their resident Companion, as she called herself, was a study in contradictions. He had an inkling that she could be as treacherous as she was beautiful, the crew was her weakness. Her family. It was easy to see how it happened, how someone could get to feel at home within the ship's walls. Then there was Simon; swallowed up in the care and tending of River, not trusting anyone else with her safety and impervious to the longing looks that Kaylee gave him.

Thinking about Kaylee made him jumpy. Thinking about people at all wasn't something he cared to waste his time on. The pixie mechanic had looked up at him with sympathy in her wide, innocent eyes as if he was actually one of them. Last person who'd looked at him that way ended up cut to ribbons and swallowed down into some monster's belly.

He was furious that River had seen into his head and known about Carolyn, known that it haunted him every time he closed his eyes. Those were memories he wanted to drown and bury and rip out of his skull if he ever found a way. He'd lost count of the nights he'd woken up in a cold sweat watching her get torn away from him over and over. It wasn't right, it should have been him. It was his blood that had drawn the creatures to them and it was his time. Should've died on that planet.

He shook those thoughts away, knowing they'd creep back in but still hoping they wouldn't. It had been years since he'd hoped for anything at all. The jagged piece of metal in his hand gleamed faintly in the shadows and he returned to dragging the file in slow strokes over the edges.

The furthest corner of the cargo hold gave just enough space between the crates and Serenity's walls for him to stretch out his legs, and it was dark enough that his eyes didn't hurt. Half his life in one slam or another meant he was used to cramped quarters. Once he was done, the shiv would curve down around his fingers in a single, elegant arc. It was both familiarity and suspicion that made him fashion the weapon. He didn't trust them and they didn't trust him. He didn't trust himself either.

It wasn't that he hadn't tried. The three survivors of hell made it to New Mecca, a world of sun and light that was supposed to known throughout the universe as a place of acceptance. Mercs caught up with him within two months and the hot sands of New Mecca had turned red with murder. Once a killer, always a killer. He was relieved to have a reason to get off the brightly lit world that had no place for him. Left the little girl, Jack, behind with the holy man. Imam would do right by her, raise her to be something other than a monster, and the further he was away from them the better off they were.

Crocodile wants to be human again, doesn't know how. Has to choose.

Apparently the word for that crawling sensation down his spine was creepifying and, he had to admit, the little girl's luminous eyes and uncanny knack for pulling thoughts out of his head definitely made his skin crawl in a creepifying way. It also made him angry. Angry because they'd broken her. Whoever it was, this Alliance they spoke of, had shattered her into little pieces. She was only a kid; with big, sad eyes and skinny as a rail, just like Jack.

He heard the swish of silk long before he saw her come round the corner and didn't bother to hide the evolving blade in his hand. She in turn gave no indication of being afraid of him or unnerved by the sight of his eyes in the darkness. Some found it unsettling.

"I thought you might want to freshen up. Perhaps a change of clothing. They're a loan from Jayne, I'm afraid, but I made sure they're relatively clean." She held out a pile of clothing. "And if you'd like to bathe…it's not much but I can assure you privacy. These Fireflies aren't luxury ships by any means but it can make the journey bearable. If there's one thing I won't miss once I'm gone, it's the lack of plumbing."

"Lead the way." Riddick set the shiv and file down on the floor carefully, getting to his feet to take the clothing from her hands. He had an idea where she was going, having been over every inch of the ship outside of the cockpit. Even prison boots could be silent when they needed to be.

"You don't have to hide in the corner like a…" she trailed off, giving him a sweetly apologetic smile.

"Like a rat?" He made no attempt to hide where his gaze had settled. It had been a very long time.

"I could charge you for that look, Mr. Riddick."

"Just Riddick." He was reluctant to leave the darkness of the crates but followed her out of the passage and up the stairs. The way she moved was captivating, lithe and graceful, each step calculated to draw a man's eye and keep him bound. He hadn't expected to be brought to her shuttle and hesitated when she motioned him inside.

"I did promise you privacy and this is as good it gets on this ship." She smiled good-naturedly at his reluctance. The woman was capable of more types of smiles than there were stars.

He tried not to look awkward among the silks and velvets but he was acutely aware that he did not and would never belong in a world of such soft things. A large bowl of water was sitting on the floor beside a carefully folded towel. She motioned him toward it and unfolded a screen from behind one of the drapes that would wrap around to hide him from view.

"It's primitive but it's heated. I wish I could offer you more."

"Ever seen inside a slam?" Riddick marveled at silvery drapes. "Don't figure you have. Only running water is what comes out of the ground."

"I'll return in a suitable amount of time. Please make yourself comfortable."

"Stay." He set the clothing down on one of the cushions of the bench and sat down to unbuckle his boots.

"I really don't," Inara began.

"Don't like my conversation, xin gan?"

She smiled as she settled onto her bed, soft and graceful as a cat. "You are a fast learner. I can barely hear your accent."

"Most slams, the inmates speak more languages than a man can count. Good ear comes in handy." He shucked off his boots and stood up to strip away the shirt he'd worn to point of it joining with his skin. She was pretending to examine the pattern on the bed cover.

"You're an intelligent man, Riddick."

"If you believe that, cut the bullshit. Tell me why you're comin' anywhere near me." He stepped behind the screen to remove the heavy pants, trying not to let them ruin the pretty fabric as he set them down. The sponge took a bit of getting used to but, despite her apologies, it was more of a luxury than he'd seen in years.

"I'm sure you've already guessed by now. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar." Her voice was light and casual but he could hear undertones of seriousness. "You frightened Kaylee yesterday."

"Funny. Told me she wasn't scared of me." Water splashed and trickled down over his shoulders, washing away the grime and sweat of too much time in space.

"I thought, perhaps, if you felt more at ease with us that it might be better for everyone. Not all of us are like Mal." There was a bit of a dig in there that had nothing to do with Riddick.

"Keep talkin'."

"You've been running from bounty hunters for a long time. Mal showed me the wave about your history; I think he was trying to scare me. That kind of life is difficult. It must be hard to trust anyone." She paused and he heard the rustle of silk, her voice much closer when she spoke again. "Sometimes kindness and civility is a breath of fresh air. It can change the direction of a man's path."

He had to swallow his laughter, wiping the sponge down his arm and taking a moment to notice the burns on the backs of his hands from the welding torch. Firey bits, Kaylee had called the sparks of molten metal. Firey little Kaylee who had looked at him with terror in her eyes and stood her ground in spite of it. Now he was being handled with the proverbial silk glove by a very well trained whore. He had to hand it to her, she was very good and it had been since before he'd seen his first slam that a woman had tried her hand at controlling him. The fact that everyone on the ship was completely insane continued to amuse him.

The water was nearly black and Inara was talking about a mountain covered in cherry blossoms by the time he finished. It felt better to be clean than he'd remembered. The thick towel wicked away the water like a thirsty desert and he wrapped it loosely around his waist before stepping out from behind the screen. She immediately averted her eyes.

"This game of yours would be more effective if it were more than just talk." The borrowed pants were a bit long since Jayne had a few inches on him. He figured the shirt would fit snug and postponed pulling it on. Instead, he sat down on the bench and rubbed his feet against the soft rug, enjoying the feel of it on his skin.

"I didn't have you for a moment, did I?" Inara asked with an amused smile.

"Wasn't bad effort though. Now you know that I don't exactly speak your language." He picked up one of the little pillows to inspect it curiously, wondering about its purpose. "Probably don't teach you how to deal with my kind on that mountain of yours."

Inara refolded the screen and took a seat beside him on the bench. "Forgive me, but since I have obviously failed at all attempts in subtlety...Mal doesn't trust you. And you shouldn't trust him. He's a good man but he's fiercely protective of his crew. The delivery is scheduled in a few hours and, well, the nature of the cargo changes the nature of the men who will be receiving it."

"You here to distract me?" His gaze raked over her body.

"I'm here to ask for your help," she answered simply. "I know that you'll turn on us the moment things don't go your way. I see it in your eyes. We mean nothing to you and there's no reason why we should. But you mean nothing to Mal and he will turn on you just as quickly."

"Honesty. I like that in a woman."

"Mal's plans are somewhat lacking. He has a gift for…how do I put this delicately? Well, his plans don't always work," she finished somewhat apologetically. "Serenity has to land for the crates to be unloaded. Mal, Jayne, and Zoe will follow the cargo and ensure that we get paid for the job. They'll be careful and they'll plan for the unexpected but once they leave the ship, the rest of us will be vulnerable."

"What's this got to do with me?" Riddick was beginning to get uneasy.

"The last thing these men want to do is give us the money so they'll be looking for a way to cross us. And the Alliance has sent River and Simon's holograph to every corner of the verse, someone is bound to recognize them if they come on board. You see my concern." She placed a hand on his bare shoulder. "I believe you're a man who can take care of himself. Whether or not you and Mal kill each other is not my concern."

"Long as we kill each other afterward." He allowed one small smile because she entertained him.

"Exactly. I'm here to ask you to be on our side until we're all safely back on Serenity. Mal is aware of my request and, while he takes no pleasure in it, he knows the value of an extra hand."

"Not my fight," he told her coolly.

"You would be compensated, of course. I would see to that."

Riddick caught the flicker of light behind pale fabric but didn't make any indication that he'd noticed. Behind the shawl was the communication screen he had seen before. Their conversation was being relayed to somewhere else on the ship and there was no doubt in his mind who was listening at the other end. Knowing this crew, probably all of them were there. No other reason the man called Jayne would have willing parted with anything or the Companion would have invited him into her quarters. Strangely, it put him at ease to know the crew of Serenity wasn't actually any different from the rest of mankind. All lies and deceit regardless of language or creed.

"We'll need your answer as soon as possible." She was smiling inscrutably and watching him with those wide, beautiful eyes that had been made to bend a man to her will.

He studied them for a moment, interested in the odd plays of light that his shine job cast on her face. She had kept the lights dim so they weren't painful, part of the web she was spinning around him. "You're doing this for him."

"I'm doing this for the crew and for Serenity," she said a bit too loudly.

"You said compensation. What exactly did you have in mind?"

"The Captain is prepared to include you in the division of payment, in exchange for your help."

"And if I ain't interested in money." He lowered his gaze to the bodice of her dress.

Inara stiffened almost imperceptibly. "I'm afraid my agreement with Captain Reynolds doesn't allow me--"

"I was referring to Kaylee." He interrupted her and tried not to smile at the faint squawk from behind the shawl.

She seemed to be thrown for the first time since she'd begun their game. "If that is what you desire in terms of payment then I'm afraid you'll have to settle for me. You understand, of course."

He pretended to be disappointed. "You'll do. Don't suppose this deal gets me a weapon?"

"You will be armed." She waited a beat. "Then you agree to help us."

"Won't stab you in the back and I ain't got a problem killing people." He got to his feet and leisurely stretched his shoulders and spine. "Since I'm getting off this ship once the job's done and I doubt Captain Reynolds is interested in sticking around to wait if it comes down to a fight…might be wanting that payment in advance."

"That's perfectly understandable." There was something close to panic in her eyes.

"Mind turnin' that thing off?" He nodded to the screen. "Don't care much for an audience."

"Of course." Her face was white as she moved to the screen and removed the shawl to turn it off. The careful smile had returned when she crossed back toward him. "Where would you like to start?"

"Three hours of sleep without having to watch my back. You keep them out and you stay the hell away from me. Can't guarantee you won't end up dead if you lay a hand on me." He eyed the bed with longing, easing his weight down onto the silky sheets.

"I don't understand."

"Slept with one eye open all my life." He looked up at her, suddenly very aware of how tired he was. Cryo sleep was a bitch if it was all ice and no sleep like it was for him. "All I want is knowing I'm not gonna wake up with a knife at my throat. Not that you aren't meili and if you were actually willing, might be a different story."

"If I were..." She stared at him incredulously. Finally she gave him the first genuine smile he'd seen on her pretty face. "I can help you sleep. Don't worry, they're ancient herbs and perfectly safe. I'm not trying to drug you."

"Not that you were planning to." He grinned as he stretched out on the bed.

"Believe me, I had every intention of doing so. I prefer my men with a little more refinement."

"Less blood on their hands." The ceiling had never caught his eye before but he wasn't surprised that it was just as decorated with swathes of fabric as the rest of the shuttle.

"Larger bank accounts," she corrected with blunt humor. "What about you? I understand you fought in a war?"

It was back to idle small talk again, although he didn't have a clue why she would think that question was either idle or small. He considered refusing to answer; they were memories long buried under blood and pain. Maybe the silk against his skin was going to his head. "Your little psychic tell you that?"

"She did." Inara smiled over her shoulder, carefully carrying a cup of something to him.

It didn't smell half bad and it was hot against his throat as he swallowed it down. He waited for her to put the teacup back and return to sit on the bed beside him. She was trained to get information from every word he said and every move he made. Normally he would find that threatening but he'd be off the ship soon enough and then Serenity would just be another distant memory he wanted to erase.

"Hooked up with a platoon during the Wailing Wars. I was the only one got out." He turned his eyes back up to the ceiling.

"That must have been terrible."

"Five hundred in my unit; cut to ribbons. Only one who could see it happen," he stopped when he felt the familiar sickness in his stomach that meant he was saying too much, trusting someone too much. People got close to him, they died. Sometimes he killed them, sometimes just knowing him got them killed. Always ended badly for them.

His whole world had been turned upside on that hellhole planet with three suns and not enough light to stay alive. Nothing made sense any more. He could still see Carolyn's smile and the look of relief on her face as she was yanked away from him to die. Every time he closed his eyes he saw that smile, tasted blood in his mouth, and knew that he could kill a hundred thousand of those demons and never slay the demon on his back. Carolyn hadn't given him a chance to live; she'd cursed him with something far worse than that. Hope.

"Riddick?"

Her voice was soft and her hand was stroking his cheek in a way that simultaneously put him on edge and eased him into sleep. He couldn't remember the last time someone's touch hadn't been intent to kill. Just three hours without the nightmares was all he wanted.

"Just relax."

The room was getting darker and Inara's voice was getting further away. A voice in his head was screaming that he shouldn't have taken the drink, shouldn't have trusted a whore in love with the ship's Captain. It shouted until it began to twist into River's voice and he could hear her eerie whispers echoing in his head.

She died for you, died for nothing. Crocodile wants to be human again, doesn't know how. Has to choose. Has to choose