AN: Sheesh, that took half of forever. I don't think the next chap will be quite so far off. Sorry about the wait.
"I'm sorry Riddick--but I'm going to have to seriously kick your ass! This is my favorite fucking shirt!" Jack griped loudly, placing her fists on her hips and glaring in the general direction of the couch. "Never mind the fact that you scared the shit out of me!"
Finally Riddick stood up, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, a paintball gun held easily in one hand. "Ah, come on, Jackie girl. Don't get mad," he said, taking a moment to toss her a similar weapon. "Get even."
Jack caught the offering, and immediately went about cocking it. "Sounds good," she said, slight venom coating her words. Riddick's smile slipped, just a bit, and for a second she wondered if he'd just realized that she was pissed and she knew how to use his new toy.
"Just one other thing, Jack," he added, slowly stalking around the couch and toward her, a helmet in hand. He thumped the large piece of safety equipment down onto her head, to her slight displeasure. She didn't even want to think about what sort of a picture she made with her hair all over her face in the hot, uncomfortable, thing she suddenly wore.
After a second of pause she pulled the helmet off and placed it on an end table sitting next to her, smoothing back her hair with the hand she wasn't holding her paintball gun with. "Why do I have to wear a helmet?" she asked, only slightly less angry than she'd been a moment before.
Riddick shrugged. "Only bought one and I figured your looks might actually be worth saving. Now close your eyes and count to thirty. We'll play recon style."
"In the house?" she questioned, her eyes widening and the look on her face one of disbelief.
The question earned her another shrug from Rick. "Sure, why not? I was thinking that I need to do some redecorating..." he said, his silvery gaze traveling along the pink walls of his living room.
Jack grunted something of an affirmative. "Okay, it's your place. Just one more question before we get started. Why are you home so early today? It's not even Friday."
Riddick smirked, turning slowly to walk out of the room. "I cussed out my boss for being incompetent and then I quit before he could fire me. Now start counting, and close your damn eyes, kid!"
Still covered in paint they finally settled down to a dinner of brats and beer. Riddick tried to tell Jack she was going to drink milk with the meal, but her glare and the gun she pointed at his face quickly changed his mind.
For their evening entertainment they sat on the couch, shooting knick-knacks off the mantel. A single miss for Riddick meant he had to take a shot of tequila, three misses for Jack meant the same so they got drunk at approximately the same rate.
"You know, now that you don't have a job anymore, we really should probably think about what we're gonna do," Jack commented before ghosting a gnome.
"What do you mean?" Riddick asked, blasting a china dancer into a million pieces.
Jack shrugged. "I don't know, I was thinking that if you wanted to, we could maybe move closer to Imam. I sort of miss him, a lot," she said morosely, suddenly sad she'd brought the subject up. They'd had a wonderful evening thus far and thinking about her adoptive father sank her spirits in a hurry.
"You'd need to finish the school term here, wouldn't you?" he asked quietly, seeming to sense the fall in her mood.
She nodded. "Yeah, but during the break I can go visit him at least, right?"
Riddick sighed, reloading his 'lethal weapon.' "Actually, moving to New Mecca might not be such a bad idea. It'd be a chance to start over, again. Maybe for once I'd actually start a life and not fuck it up..."
"Well, this one isn't a complete fuck-up yet," she told him, taking aim and knocking yet another gnome off the line. "You still have me, so it can't be all bad. Although that whole ruining my favorite shirt thing, dangerous thing to be doin' with a girl..."
"Didn't think you were like most girls, Jack," he interjected, his grin turning cheesy.
Jack pretended to huff, her eyes glinting wickedly. "I'm enough of a girl these days that some guys actually notice. Even if certain parties still think of me as a thirteen year old who shaved her head..."
Riddick took a random shot in the general direction of the fireplace, missed, and set his gun down in order to pour himself a drink. "What, you think I didn't notice? The second I saw you at the port I fuckin' noticed. Voice slightly lower, curves, semi-feminine clothing. Mood swings..." he pointed out slyly, taking a shot and then pouring himself another.
Jack's eyes narrowed distinctly. "You sayin' I get PMS, Sir Shivs A lot?"
He reached over and tugged gently on her ponytail. "I'm sayin' you've got spunk," he corrected, propping his feet up on the coffee table, allowing his arm to rest across the back of the couch behind her head. "Too much for my tastes, maybe, but apparently not for what's-his-name. Daryl?"
"Dom," Jack supplied, allowing herself a small snicker. For the second time in the last few weeks she wondered if Riddick could possibly be jealous of Dom. Why else would he play at having forgotten the name of her supposed 'boyfriend' again? Perhaps he meant the gesture in a 'protective older brother' sort of fashion? Either way, she decided to enjoy it.
"Yeah, that's it," Riddick rumbled with mock-pleasantness. "Dom. The twenty three year old claiming to be seventeen."
"He is seventeen," she informed him, pouring herself a drink and preparing to down it.
"Has a lot of balls for a seventeen year old, even for a runaway seventeen year old."
Jack smirked. "Sounds like you don't like him," she said before taking the shot.
Riddick smiled back at her, the steady drinking pace he'd kept up all evening hardly showing yet. His fingertips played lazily with the tag on the back of her t-shirt. "Kid just seems too damn slick for his own good, coming up with a story on the spot about taking you to the doctor after you got hit with a date rape drug. He tell you if he's done time?"
She nodded, secretly wishing he'd never stop the new friendly touches to her hair and back of her neck. "Yeah, he did. Some juvy and a stint in one of the numbered slams. All in all he's pretty straight with me about that stuff."
Riddick gaffed. "Sure he is. Why not? He's got nothing to lose."
"That a good enough reason to dump his ass?"
"It's close."
"I like him."
"That's part's natural. He's a good looking boy, you're a good looking girl. Still doesn't take away from the fact that I've got a bad feeling about him."
Jack shrugged. "If you're having feelings of your own that's probably a good sign. I'd better not take it for granted, huh?"
Riddick ruffled her hair before heaving himself up off the couch. "Got that right, Squirt. Think I'm gonna turn in for the night. You wanna hold down the fort until morning?"
"With this?" Jack asked, loosely holding up her paintball gun with two fingers.
Riddick shrugged, walking backward with arms extended, his palms facing the ceiling. "Sure, why not? Far as I can tell you're a force to be reckoned with, Jackie girl. I can sleep just fine knowing you're right down the hall, watching out for me. My own guardian angel." He grinned at her shamelessly and blew her a kiss before turning to go.
Strangely enough, Jack found herself blushing and her heart pounding long after he'd finished bidding her good-night.
