Chapter 9
Growing Up
Riddick's POV
All I knew to do when Jack almost knocked me over as she hugged me was to hug her back. It's been so long since I allowed myself to be so close to her. Sure, when she has those damned nightmares, I go and lay with her, but that's only because it's something I have to do. No, I suppose it isn't something I have to do; I could just let her lay in there and scream. But what kind of a man would I be if I did something like that? Maybe I want to be in there with her, hell I don't know. But regardless to whether I want to be in there or not, it isn't right.
I can smell every place she's been. I smell the pretzels from the food court in that strip mall, the smell of new clothes, smells a bit like vinegar, I smell her sweat, I smell the perfume those bitches spray on you to try and get you to buy their product. I smell everything. She smells like angels ought to smell, even with the sweat and… tears…
"Kid, what's wrong? You don't like it?" I asked as I looked down at the top of her head, she still wouldn't let me go.
She sniffled and rubbed her face on my chest… My bare chest. Ah fuck, I'm in my towel. Shit. Fuck. I shouldn't be here. I need to go and get dressed.
"No, no, it's not that. I love the dress, it's beautiful." She finally answered, causing me to lose my train of thought about how very wrong it is for me to be standing in her room, with her in my arms, only wearing a towel.
Okay, so she likes it, that's why she's crying? What!
"Kid, if you like the dress, why are you crying?" I asked.
I'm a man how the hell am I supposed to know about these things? I would think that if the chick is crying it means she's mad or something. Hell, I don't know. Women never cease to confuse me.
"I'm… I'm not crying." She said, like I would believe her.
I pulled away from her and pushed her back by her shoulders so I could see her face. Automatically she put her hands on her face and wiped fiercely at her eyes. See, I knew she was crying. Why's she got to lie about it? Like I'm stupid, right, and couldn't smell the salt. Sometimes I think she forgets how good my sense of smell is.
She cleared her throat, "See, I wasn't crying."
A faint smile crossed her face as she looked at me. Again, I remembered just now, I'm standing here in a towel. Me and my stupid instincts when it comes to that kid. What I don't think she's noticed yet, because she hasn't said anything about it, is I was in the middle of shaving. And by in the middle, what I mean to say is only the right side of my face is shaved and I'm sure it's noticeable. I apparently didn't think when I came bounding out of the bathroom and into Jack's room, though, I wish I had. That's my problem. I never think about things when it comes to her. Shit, one day, this girl's gonna get me killed.
"Okay, well, kid, I suppose I should tell you what's up." I said rubbing my right hand back over me forehead then resting it on the back of my neck.
Jack just looked up at me with her eyes glistening, if I didn't know any better, I would think she was going to cry again.
"Since it's your eighteenth birthday, I thought it'd be nice to take you out." I said.
Jack interrupted me. "Riddick, I don't think that dress," she pointed at her closet, "is proper attire for a bar."
I rolled my eyes behind my goggles. Does she think the only places I can take her are bars? What the fuck. I can do nice things, I know how to be all stuffy and proper and shit.
Sighing I said, "You're right kid. But then again, I'm not taking you to a bar. I think I've ruined enough of your birthdays so far, so this year, I'm trying something different. We're going to McGuinties, that fancy restaurant off of Commerce Avenue, you know the one."
Jack screamed again. What the hell is it with girls and screaming? Never in the years I've lived with the kid have I ever heard her scream unless it was over a nightmare or because she saw me beating the shit out of someone. This isn't like her. And I personally don't think my ear drums can take much more of this shit.
Jack finally let me finish my post shower rituals. But I had to do them out side of the bathroom because she needed it, apparently to get ready for tonight, I'm not sure. I try not to pay much attention to these things in life, though sometimes it's difficult for me. When in the hell did Jack stop being that little girl and grow up? And where the fuck was I for all of it? I know I'm not the most observant person, unless I have to be, but damn.
End Riddick's POV
"Come on, Kid!" Riddick yelled from behind his closed bedroom door.
Jack huffed, "I'm working on it. Give me a damn minute!"
"Jack, it's damn six o'clock, we have to be there at seven and you know how long it takes to get across town! Hurry the fuck up!" Riddick yelled back as he fastened the cufflinks on his shirt and took yet another look at him self in the mirror.
As it would seem, he, Richard Barrett Riddick, did in fact clean up quite well. His suit pants, shoes, and jacket were traditional black with a white collard shirt underneath it and black tie, the cufflinks were what looked like black pearl trimmed in silver. The one thing that did clash a bit with the outfit was the pair of black goggles he had perched just over his eye brows. Even though the goggles were black, they didn't quite fit into his attire. He silently cursed himself for ever getting that shine job because he was fully aware what they did to the outfit, but there was no turning back now. It was done and over with and there wasn't anything he could do to fix it.
Riddick pulled his goggles down, over his eyes as he pulled his bedroom door open. For some reason he just knew every light in the house would be on and he didn't want to start this night out with a headache.
At the very moment Riddick stepped out into the small hallway between his and Jack's rooms, Jack's door slid open and she stood in the doorway fidgeting.
Riddick smiled as his eyes glistened behind his goggles.
Jack let her head drop down to her feet as she tried her hardest not to stare at him. She's only caught a glimpse of him but already she knew he looked wonderful. She cleared her throat, "What do you think? Isn't the dress beautiful?"
Riddick brought one of his massive hands up to his forehead and slid it across the top of his head and let it rest on the back of his neck, he'd been doing this more than usual lately. "No, kid, I don't think that dress is beautiful."
Jack's eyes shot up from her feet to Riddick's goggles. She couldn't think of anything to say, she hadn't exactly expected that answer from him.
He laughed, "Jack," he stepped closer to her and reached out for her chin, "you make that dress beautiful."
Jack and Riddick arrived at the front entrance of the restaurant fifteen minutes ahead of time, to Riddick's surprise. Jack was taken aback at the beauty of the drab buildings interior. It was a plain grey brick building, on the outside, but the inside was breath taking. There were possibly hundreds of round tables covered in crisp white cloths with two candles in the middle. The chairs were also white but the wood on them had to be a cherry or possibly very highly polished walnut. Thousands of small chandeliers hung from the ceiling all surrounding one gigantic crystal chandelier in the middle of the room.
Jack tried her best not to fidget as she and Riddick were ushered to their table, in the far back right hand corner of the building. She thought to herself the reason they were that far back was because Riddick didn't particularly like to have people staring at him. In actuality, he just didn't want them staring at Jack, he didn't have anything to do with it this time. He was fully aware of the fact that she was gorgeous in her yellow dress with her hair pulled up in a tight bun and those small ringlets falling down the back.
Once they were seated and had their menus in hand, Jack decided it was time to talk to Riddick. After his last comment to her, back when they were still at home, she hadn't been able to think of anything to say to him. His first answer took her by surprise but his second one truly astonished her. She'd never dreamt of hearing those words come out of his mouth. He wasn't the kind of guy that said things like that, least of all to her.
She shifted in her chair as she pretended to look over her menu. "Riddick, I… Umm…"
Riddick lowered his menu from his face, "yes, Jack."
Her eyes darted around the restaurant as she tried to look anywhere but into Riddick's face. "I just… I wanted to say thanks."
Again, Riddick smiled. "Don't thank my just yet kid; I haven't had time to fuck this up yet."
Finally, she had a reason to laugh. So she did.
She was, in truth, very uncomfortable being dressed as she was, but she also knew he was as well. She'd never really dressed this nice for anything, not that she could remember anyway. The thing about Jack is, when she's uncomfortable or embarrassed, she laughs, it's a kind of nervous tick she has but she knows it isn't always appropriate to do so. As she laughed, she tried to muffle the sounds with her hand, but it was still more than obvious what she was doing.
After a few moments, when she noticed people beginning to stare, she coughed and adverted her eyes back to her menu.
Throughout their dinner, Riddick drank, what he was told was, a fine wine, occasionally giving Jack a glass. He didn't see any reason she couldn't drink if she wanted to. Normally he wouldn't want her to drink anything that had alcohol in it, but tonight was her night and he was going to let her do anything she wanted to do.
Thirty minutes had passed since both Jack and Riddick had finished their entrée's and Jack was, as she had said 'stuffed.' Riddick too was feeling the waist band of his slacks begin to tighten and decided it wouldn't be appropriate to unbutton them and walk through the restaurant. This in mind, he told Jack they would only stay for a bit to let their food digest and talk a bit.
"So, kid, what do you want to do when we leave here?" He asked as he filled her wine glass for the fourth time.
"Don't know. What do you want to do? I'm really up for anything." She answered putting her hand up to show him her glass was full enough.
Truthfully speaking, she'd had enough to drink two drinks ago. Seeing as how she never drank, by this time, she was feeling pretty good. She could think of a few things she'd like to do but none were worth mentioning to Riddick. Considering most of them had to do with testing her 'Riddick doesn't wear underwear' theory. She decided it was best to give the shortest answer possible. Generally speaking, Jack doesn't have these kinds of thought about Riddick, but it could be that she's finally realized she is eighteen years old and he has always been a kind of idol to her, or it could also be the wine talking. She wasn't sure which the culprit was, but either way, it would be fine with her if she did get to test that theory.
Riddick took a long drink of his wine, emptying his glass again, and sighed. "Well, I'm all out of ideas. This," he motioned with his hand around the room, "was the only good thing I could think of. Tell me, did you enjoy yourself tonight?"
Jack's face lit up as she smiled, which caused some type of reaction inside Riddick though it wasn't visible to her. "Yes. This was wonderful, I can't think of anything that would be better. And now that dinner is over, thank you." She smiled again.
Riddick closed his eyes the second time Jack smiled and thought, 'Seeing that too much could brink a man to his knees.'
"Well, Jack, I'm glad you liked it. I wasn't sure it'd be your thing, but can't kill me for trying." He answered with his eyes still shut.
"I guess you're right." She said, still thinking about him not having any underwear on at that moment.
'Jesus H. Fucking Christ, Jack, why can't you stop thinking about his balls? What the fuck is wrong with you? God! Just quit it. That's wrong. Besides, he'd never let you find out anyway.'
On the way out of the restaurant Riddick realized it probably wasn't the best idea to let Jack drink five and a half glasses of wine. This realization came to him when she almost fell as she walked down the mid-way of the restaurant and he had to catch her. For a second or two, while she was in his arms, he could swear he felt his heart stop beating, but dismissed it as being too concerned with her well being.
By the time he and Jack were back in the comfort of their own home, which is where Jack decided she would like to go, Riddick was positive she'd had too much to drink. Not only were her words a bit strained and slurred, but she wasn't making much sense when she was forming proper sentences. He wished he'd cut her off back at one glass of wine, but knew wishing wasn't going to change the fact that she was drunk.
He ushered her into the house, well mainly just carried her in, and lay her down on the couch. "Do you just want to go to bed, kid?"
Jack shook her head, causing those curled tendrils to fall into her face, and then blew a stream of air from her mouth up her forehead, trying to get the hair out of her face. "No, just stay. We can movie. Watch a. You know."
Riddick sighed as he fought not to laugh at her; after all she was pretty comical at times, this being one of them. "Okay, what movie do you want to watch?"
She seemed to zone out for a second, presumable thinking, then said, "I have one."
Before Riddick could say anything, she jumped off the couch and stumbled her way into her bedroom. Riddick almost followed her but decided against it because he wasn't sure what exactly she was doing and didn't want to see something he shouldn't. Five or so minutes later, Jack stumbled back into the living room, where Riddick sat stretched out on the couch. By this time, he had unbuttoned the top button on his slacks as well as taken off his jacket, unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt which in turn exposed his white A-shirt, loosened his tie, kicked off his shoes and removed his cufflinks. She bounced as she walked in front of Riddick and took her seat beside him, on the couch.
"Here." She said as she thrust the movie she held in her hand under his nose.
He scoffed. "Okay, watch it there, kid."
He took the movie out of her hand and examined the case. It was a 'chick-flick' if he had ever seen one, a movie titled 'The Sweetest Thing.'
'Wonderful. I have to watch this with her. A chick flick. I realize this is her birthday and all, but damn. This is going too far. I know exactly what's going to happen. She's going to pass out and I'm going to be stuck here watching this.'
He sighed as he turned the movie over in his hand and read the back panel. He was right. It was a chick flick and not one that seemed the least bit appealing to him. "Are you sure this is the one you want to watch?"
Jack snorted. "Yesssssss." She sounded a bit like an impatient child when she answered like that.
"Okay, fine. Then pit the damn thing in." He said, trying not to seem as unenthusiastic as he really was.
"Noooo. I don't wanna." Jack answered as she crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head frantically.
"Jack." Riddick scolded.
She shook her head harder. "Nope. I'm not gonna."
He clenched his jaw and stood up whispering under his breath, "You have to be fucking kidding me."
Fifteen minutes into the movie, Jack decided she didn't want to watch it anymore. She stretched out on the couch as soon as Riddick sat back down and had her feet in his lap as she lay with her head turned toward the television. But by this time, she wanted to play games, instead of watch the movie. Playfully, she jabbed Riddick in the side with her toes and laughed. Riddick snapped his head toward her, none too happy.
"What the hell was that for?" He asked.
Again, she laughed as she jabbed him in the ribs a second time. "Ha, ha, I got you."
He raised one eye brow at her but otherwise, he was expressionless. "You know, kid, it's probably not a good idea to do shit like that?"
She crinkled her nose, "Why not?"
"Because." Just as he closed his mouth, he grabbed her foot with one hand and pulled her down toward him, "your foot is in my lap and I could break it if I wanted too."
Jack wiggled and squirmed as his grip on her leg tightened. "Stop it. You're not gonna break it! I know you won't."
"Really?" He gave her leg another squeeze.
"Yes, really." She answered as she tried again to get her leg free from his hand.
"What makes you so sure?" He asked.
"This." She swiftly brought her other foot up, apparently the one Riddick had forgotten she had, and kicked him right in the chin. The kick wasn't hard, but none the less, it was a kick in the chin.
"Whoa, there, kid." He said as he grabbed her other foot with his free hand. "See, now I have both of them. What's to stop me from hurting you now? If I were anyone else, I could do whatever I want to you right now."
Jack relaxed her legs in his hands, "You could do whatever you want to do to me anyway; you don't have to be someone else."
A/N: Okay, I know it's been forever and I'm sorry, but yay, new chapter! ;) As always, please let me know what you think. And thanks for reading, you guys are my inspiration. Sway
