It wasn't more than an hour before they were standing outside the five story office building that housed Sampson Inc. Jack craned her neck, wondering which floor Riddick's office was on.

Conte's com started ringing just at that moment, and he had to briefly search his pockets to find it. Finally he pulled it from a pocket in his jeans and answered it. "This is Conte. Yeah, I'm in town. Na, I can't, I'm doing something right now. Uh huh, right."

Jack listened with mild disinterest. Whoever was on the other end of the line sounded pissed at her new...friend?

Conte grimaced a bit, as though he wasn't enjoying what he was hearing very much at all. "Yeah, fine. I said fine didn't I? I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Yeah, I'll see ya." Slowly he hung up. All the energy he'd possessed during the animated tour he'd given her of the downtown area was suddenly gone, drained away by whatever news he'd just received.

"Listen, Jack. That was my boss, from my other job. He says he needs me to work right now. Someone called in sick or something."

"Sorry to hear that," Jack sympathized. She'd had her share of part time jobs, none of which had come with bosses who treated her like she was a human being with human needs. Such as the need for time off now and then...

However, right then what she was most concerned about was the fact that the one person she actually was getting along with on the entire planet was about to leave her alone again.

Just as he turned to go she remembered something she'd nearly forgotten, and called after him. When he turned back around she tossed him his wallet. Conte caught it easily with one hand.

He'd been a little shocked that she'd actually managed to pinch it off of him, but he had noticed when she'd taken it. That didn't mean it hadn't been a good pick, Dom just happened to be a professional. But it wasn't like he could afford to let her catch on to him. Still, he hadn't been robbed since, when? Not since Juvy Slam, when he was eight or nine probably. Even back then the bigger kids had to beat him till he was half dead to get anything out of him.

Dom smiled a little. It really was too bad he had to use this girl. He was just getting to like her. "So, I guess you're not as rusty at picking pockets as you thought, huh?"

Jack shrugged, biting her lip to keep herself from grinning like an idiot. "I guess not. I snatched it on the bus, when I lost my balance and knocked into you. So, will I see you around?" she asked, a disappointed calm settling over her as she realized she may well never see him again. Things like that had happened to her often in the past.

Dom chuckled, for real, not as an act. It had been a long time since another person had actually made him laugh. Thus was the sacrifice of working in his line of business. Especially working solo in his line of business. "You can count on it, Jack," he said, just barely loud enough for her to hear. Then he turned and headed up the street, quickly fading into the crowd.

Jack sighed morosely, spending a few seconds wishing that he would reappear. For the company, yes. But also because she was once again finding herself on the verge of facing Riddick alone, and a new case of nerves was just starting to hit her.

Shella she could handle without fear, no problem. Riddick? Well, apparently he still mattered.


It hadn't been hard to find him. The receptionist had been a pleasant woman and gave her detailed directions on how to reach his office. Jack found it a few moments later, running into far fewer people than she thought she would. None of them questioned the fact that she might not belong there.

Ironically enough she found herself looking for a door with Richard B. Riddick written on it. It wasn't until she saw the name Richard Costello that she realized the error in that type of thinking. Jack slowly shook her head, rolling her eyes at herself. "I'll bet you'd expect to find his name in the intergalactic phonebook too. Jeez, Jack. Pull it together."

She took a breath, then opened the door, slipping in quietly incase he was on the phone or something. He wasn't, just sitting there pouring over blueprints. Still, she was reluctant to say anything. He hadn't noticed when she walked in. Just another sign of how far he'd slipped. Used to be she couldn't get anything past him, no matter how hard she tried.

Jack cleared her throat to gain his attention. Riddick looked up, surprised to see her. He'd obviously been very absorbed in his work.

"Oh, Jack. What're you doing here?" he asked, sounding a little confused.

"I got locked out of the house," she said, and even to her ears it sounded a little stupid.

Riddick quirked an eyebrow. "You got locked out of the house?"

Jack nodded, taking a seat in one of the grey leather chairs facing Riddick's desk. "Um, yeah. I tried the scanner like ten times and it wouldn't unlock the door. I think maybe there was like a power surge or something. Or maybe Shella deleted my handprint from the computer's databank. You know, something like that." She pretended to be offhanded about the accusation, knowing that Riddick wouldn't buy it. Not unless he'd fallen into an even darker place than she thought he had.

He'd have to notice that one.

"Now Jack, I'm sure that it was..."

"I don't care how psychobabble 'rediscovered' you've become Ricky, you aren't stupid. You know damn well she deleted my hand print from the computer and she did it because I pissed her off this morning."

"I suppose that could be true. Shella feels threatened by you. She knows that you and I knew each other before I met her and she is prone to a bit of jealousy."

Jack almost cheered out loud. Finally! He'd FINALLY admitted the glaring and blatantly obvious! Now she just had to work on the subtleties A LOT and they'd be all hunky dory again.

"But..." he continued.

Shit, that didn't sound good.

"...Shella is a good person. She has her flaws just like everyone else. I'm sure that once she sees how well the three of us can get along she'll warm up to the idea of you staying with us. I'd like it if the two of you became friends. I know you haven't had a mother figure in your life for a long time Jack..."

"Rick, she's only like eight years older than me, ten at most. She ain't no mother figure, and I don't want one," Jack stated, hoping that would be the end of THAT.

Riddick gave her a disapproving 'this isn't helping' look.

Jack was just realizing that her eye roll was quickly becoming trademark, but still wasn't quite able to refrain from doing it yet again. "Okay, so you're right. I suppose Shella is technically a good person. I mean, it's not like she's a mass murderer or something," she commented with mild sarcasm while pretending to give the ceiling a through examination.

Was he going to let that one slip by? Apparently he was. Riddick only shook his head. "Just trust me when I say it's going to be alright, Jack. Listen, I can't take you home right now, so why don't you go and check out your new school? It's only five blocks north of here, and it's really easy to find. By the time you get back I'll probably be able to take my lunch break and drive you over to the house. How did you get here anyway?" he asked, his brows knitting slightly almost with, what? Worry? Concern?

Jack shrugged, subconsciously chewing on her thumbnail. "I came on the bus with a guy who's a friend of a neighbor kid. Mike Daniels, I think? Dom said he mows your lawn."

Riddick leaned forward, letting both his elbows rest on the top of his desk, folding one fist into the palm of his opposite hand. "Mows my lawn? Oh right, Mike. Yeah, I know him. Good kid, just haven't seen him around for a while. And this guy, Dom, he's a friend of Mike's?"

Jack shrugged, moving on to chewing the nail on her index finger. "Yeah, as far as I can tell. He said he wanted to ask you if he could get a job with Sampson Inc. I guess he's planning on staying planet-side for a while and he needs another job. I was a little suspicious at first, but he seems like a really cool guy. He gave me a tour of downtown during the bus ride. Paid for my fare and everything..."

"Jack, I thought you stopped chewing your nails a long time ago." Riddick shifted so his jaw was resting on one fist as he studied her. He had no interest in who Dom was, that was apparent enough.

He should want to know, he used to be almost paranoid about that kind of thing.

Jack pulled her hand away from her mouth, just realizing what she'd been doing herself. It had been a long time since she'd fallen into the habit. So long she could hardly remember the last time she'd done it. Riddick and Imam used to get on her about it all the time after they'd been settled in on New Mecca for a while.

Turning his attention away from her Riddick shuffled some of his papers around on his desk, looking through them. "Anyway, tell that Dom guy that if he wants an application for the mailroom or whatever, I'll get him one. Actually, maybe it would be a good idea if you worked here too, Jack. It's not too far from the high school and I could give you a ride home when you're done. I work late lots of nights."

Jack tilted her head to one side, considering that suggestion for a moment. "Sure, that sounds okay." What the heck, a job was a job. She could always use some cash. Besides the fact that relying on Riddick for money wasn't exactly her idea of fun.

And who knew, she and Dom might end up working together. That had the potential to be interesting at the very least.

"Well," Riddick said, still in all-business mode. "I'd better get back to work now. I have a meeting I've got to be ready for here in a few minutes. Here, take this," he said, sliding a card across his desk.

Jack got up, picking up the business card. "For in case I get lost, right?" she speculated, slipping the card into her back pocket where it was least likely to get bent or torn.

"Something like that," Riddick confirmed, opening his briefcase on his desk and arranging the things he would need for his meeting neatly inside.
Jack took this as her cue to leave, and slipped out the door just as quietly as she'd entered moments earlier.

She was almost grateful to escape. Riddick-at-work wasn't nearly so bad as Riddick-at-home, but he was still stuffy, stiff. Besides, a nice walk to clear her head wasn't sounding half bad. She just hoped her school would end up being placed in a nice neighborhood.

Jack bet that if Shella had any hand in picking it out, she'd probably be dealing with an old south-side inner city of Chicago type high school. She'd just better hope to Allah that Riddick had done his homework on the local education centers.

It wasn't like she'd had a whole lot of luck staying out of trouble in the good schools she'd attended, never mind the bad ones.