"Riddick?" she stood at the doorway, leaned against it, her arms crossed as if hugging herself, she had changed for bed, a long tee shirt and soft pants, but she couldn't try to sleep when she knew he was mad at her.
"I can't sleep." He stood on the bridge staring out at the billions of stars. He left the lights off, his eyes had been bothering him lately.
"You need to shave." Jack tisked.
"Not right now." He realized she was right, and felt the fuzz on his head. "Maybe I should just grow it out."
"Maybe you should."
"Really?" he turned to look at her, framed by the dim light from the hallway.
"Yeah, why do you shave anyway? Prematurely bald?" teasing she walked into the room and leaned against his shoulder until he shifted to gather her into his arms.
"If you don't have hair there's nothing for someone to pull on to give you incentive to follow." He muttered, "its easier to get away."
Jack sighed, he combed his fingers through her short cropped tresses, and looked out into the vastness of the star field. Neither of them noticed the bounty hunter standing behind them, a peculiar hurt evident on her features.
Rieder turned hastily, not willing to let them know that she had witnessed the tender moment. But the thoughts running through her head were difficult for her to reconcile with what she knew of the killer. He seemed to protect the girl as if she were a sister or daughter, but the embrace she caught them in was closer than anything she had ever shared with her own brother. She had been teasing him about the pedophile thing during her failed attempt at a capture, but what if they really were? She shook her head, no, if anything Richard was not one to take advantage of a girl. She knew he killed people, horribly, graphically, but she knew that he had his own code of honor and he stuck to it scrupulously. Was that why he hadn't…? He wouldn't take advantage of a situation in which she was unable to make a choice. He had been trying to convince her to go away, that staying with him would only hurt her. So he was pushing all the female fear buttons, but not really following up on any of them. He might be scum, but at least he was scum who could and did distinguish that line.
She really didn't relish going back to that room, so she followed the wall until it reached the kitchen. She sat at the tiny table and let her head fall to its cool surface. A dull thunk greeted her. The table was hollow, but that wasn't unusual in this kind of vessel. Every available space was used. Just out of base curiosity she opened the catch and flipped up the top. Time to see what a man like Riddick had in his closet… or, as the case may be, table.
He sent Jack to bed, hoping that maybe she'd sleep and he'd sleep, and maybe, just maybe they'd both sleep without nightmares. He passed the kitchen on the way to his room, but doubled back as he noticed the figure sitting on the floor with junk strewn on the floor and a small tattered stuffed bear in her arms.
"You're going through my stuff?" he asked, purely amazed.
"You kept him." Patty smiled up and hugged the bear tighter.
"Its not like I was going to space it or anything Pats." he looked down at the random tools and toys, the shell casings and magazine clips from vintage guns he played around with. If it was anything the table box was a toy chest. It included books from every topic he'd ever needed to know about to comic books. Bouncy balls and yo-yos were mixed in with shivs and a katana he'd taken off an ineffective ninja.
"But you kept him." she got to her feet and before he knew what she was doing she pressed the stuffed bear into his arms. "Go sleep, I'll clean this up." she shoved him down the hall with a kiss to his cheek. He got all the way to his bed before realizing he still had the stupid bear in his arms.
He woke the next morning, early, but later than he had been sleeping before. Maybe all the emotional bullshit from the previous night wiped him more than he thought. He sighed, rubbed his hand over the stubble on his skull and decided to shave it. He got to his feet and winced away as the overhead light flicked on.
"Gah!" he hissed and fumbled with his goggles.
"Sorry, forgot." Rieder flicked the light off again and stepped into the hallway, "heard you stirring, thought you'd be hungry. Toast?"
"You're cooking breakfast?" he waited for his eyes to adjust again and took off the goggles, he wouldn't need them in the dim hall.
"Yeah. Jack got up bout half an hour ago, I thought I'd scramble some eggs or something."
"We have eggs?"
"Apparently."
"Sure." Riddick shrugged, then, remembering how she used to cook for him, smiled. "You going to put cheese in them?"
"Sure." she smiled too, "I'll even make them soft so they go better on toast."
"Damn." he followed her to the kitchen, Jack was buried in her own breakfast and grunted when Riddick sat down, her mouth full.
"You should have told me you let her out. I almost shot her when I woke up and found her at the controls."
"Sorry. The controls?" Riddick turned to glare at Rieder.
"She was just looking out the window. I checked everything out."
"Good."
"Milk?" Rieder asked as she smirked at his distrusting gaze.
"Yes."
"Yes what?" he rolled his eyes.
"This is my ship. I don't have to say please." Riddick got to his feet and poured his own glass of milk.
"Richard." she said mildly.
"What?" he snapped.
"Put on your glasses." she warned a split second before turning the lights on full. He swore again while Jack tried not to laugh.
"What the-" he fumbled with the milk and his goggles with his eyes squeezed shut.
"I need to see the eggs so they don't get burned. Now sit down and let me cook breakfast."