AHA! I lied again. This chap has a bit more of a plot to it than the rest. Little more of a point than just the smut, but the smut is still there, just at the end. I know I have more pressing updates to get to but this will get me warmed up after months of hiatus...

Disclaimer: see previous chaps, I don't like repeating myself.

Riddick hurried to make sure everything was perfect before Jack got home from work. Normally he wouldn't go through with something like this, and he was still a little shocked that he'd actually followed through on something that started out as a passing thought. Jack certainly wasn't expecting it, since she was convinced he'd fogotten her birthday altogether. He hadn't mentioned anything, and she'd left for work that morning a little down because of it. The more work he put in, the more he couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she walked in and saw the clean house and the candles and smelled the food. He went all out for her; for the first time in his life he felt a reason to. He felt like he had to make up for all the other birthdays he'd missed along the way, and though one night couldn't do that, he figured it would be a damn good start. He sighed as he looked around admiring his work. His cynnical side piped up.

'You're turning puss, you know that right?'

'Only for her. Only because I can.'

He shook his head and walked to the kitchen to stir the spaghetti sauce. He remembered her telling him once that it was her favorite food, that it made her feel 'homey', so he took a crack at it. It smelled damn good, considering he'd gotten the recipe from a book. He'd never heard of half the things he'd put in it. Oregano? Basil? He'd chuckled to himself, reasoning that the cooks in slam never heard of them either. He hoped the wine he'd bought would go well with it. He really had no idea what wines went with what foods, hell he couldn't even pronounce the name, so he had to trust the woman at the store when she'd said this was the one he wanted. She'd been so impressed that this hulking, scary mass of a man was so worried about impressing his lady fair that she'd dug through their private stock to find exactly the right vintage to compliment spaghetti.

He tried to think of something else to do, something else he could find to make himself busy while he waited for her, for no other reason than to avoid wringing his hands in anticipation and to settle the butterflies in his gut. These were foreign feelings for him and he wasn't all that happy with them. The table was set with the flowers and candles and china he'd dug up, the food was all but done, the house was spotless (he'd even picked his dirty socks out from under the couch), there really was nothing left to do but wait.

He sat back on the couch and contemplated how the night might go. He pictured Jack walking in, weary and a little unraveled from a long day at work, maybe a little down still because of his lack of attention that morning (nothing wrong with a little self flattery). She would hang her keys on the hook, as usual, turn and fall silent as she looked around at his labors. Or perhaps she would have her hands busy with something, so she would kick the door for him to open it. He would tell her to close her eyes, take the items in question from her hands and he would lead her into the livingroom. She would comment about how good something smelled before he let her open her eyes and she would be speechless (again) at the sight. She might be soo surprised, in fact, that dinner might be forgotten as she tackled him to the ground, assaulting him with her mouth. Riddick smiled in spite of himself. Ok, maybe not the latter, but stranger things had happened. Just then, the com-unit beeped that there was a new message, breaking Riddick away from his thoughts.

'Probably just some jerk wanting me for a job,' he thought as he walked lazily over to the thing and pressed the retrieve button. Jack's despondent voice filled his ears.

"I just wanted to let you know Riddick, I'm not coming home for a while," Riddick's guts fell out at her words and his teeth gritted as he listened on, "I need some time to clear my head, to think about us. I bet you still haven't even realized it's my fucking birthday, have you? Don't try to come after me, I'll come back when, and if, I'm ready. I... I love you." Then silence.

Riddick was so stunned, he wasn't even sure if he'd heard the message right. He played it back twice more, just to make sure. It was really Jack, and she was deadly serious. His fists clenched along with his jaw and every other muscle in his body. What the fuck brought this on? He didn't know and he didn't care, the fact of the matter was Jack was pissed enough to just ditch out on him on her fucking birthday. 'Don't try to come after me' my ass. Riddick grabbed his jacket and goggles and was out the door.

Less than an hour later, after 'haggling' with the poor attendant at the dock they kept their private skiff at to find him another or else, he was space-born and hot on the trial of his own skiff. This is a switch, he thought to himself, only half bemused. It wasn't usually his own skiff he was hunting down. Luckily he had the ion signature memorized for exactly this purpose, just in case anyone ever had the nerve to steal it. He didn't think it would be Jack's neck he'd be wringing when he got it back, but hell. The more he thought about that message the more pissed he got. Finally he got an ion lock and threw the rickety little hunk of crap he got stuck with into overdrive to catch up with her. The hyper gear obviously hadn't been tuned for a while, because the engine whined loudly when it was engaged. Riddick ignored it, focusing on catching up with Jack. When he was within range, he tried to hail her.

"JACK GODDAMMIT!!!"

It went unanswered, and the skiff in front of him bolted. Riddick slammed the engine back into overdrive. The engine groaned and clanked but obeyed again nonetheless and he was off in hot pursuit. She had skills, he had to give her that. She had the evasive moves of someone who had formal flight training, but he knew damn good and well she didn't. She'd learned everything she knew from him, to his irritation at this moment.

In the back of his mind he heard the clanking of the engine grow louder, and he noticed the red 'warning' light flashing, but he didn't care. He had to catch Jack and knock some sense into her. That was the only thing his mind was focused on. You can imagine his reaction when the built-in blast sheild dropped in the cockpit and as he turned to find out why the engine blew to smithereens, violently jettisoning the cockpit and knocking him out cold.

"Riddick? Riddick?" The voice of an angel, Riddick thought absently, if he'd believed in them anyway. "Riddick you, you dumb fucking sonuvabitch! If you don't wake up I swear I'll come collect your ass from hell just to kill you again myself!"

Maybe not an angel after all, he thought with an internal grin. He became aware of softness under him, and the faint smell of... spaghetti sauce? He was home? His eyes shot open to see Jack's relief-washed face staring down at him, the dimmed track lights in the ceiling framing her form like something holy. Angel. He went to sit up but the stabbing pains that shot through his upper torso told him to lay back down.

"Don't try to sit up. The explosion banged you up pretty bad. Here, have some water." She helped him lift the glass to his lips and he gingerly took a drink. She took the glass and he started to speak, to ask why she'd left or how the hell they'd gotten back here in one piece, but she shushed him.

"Shut up a minute," she sighed heavily, "I'm sorry I went off like that. I was just so disappointed this morning when you didn't even wish me happy birthday, and then the more I thought about it over the day the more pissed I got until finally I just decided 'fuck it' and took off. I just couldn't stand it." She looked down and away so he wouldn't see the tears welling in her eyes; her voice shook with the next sentance. "No one's ever remembered my birthday, Riddick. My whole life, not even my own parents. Obviously, looking around here... you did. I'm sorry I ever doubted you. Can you ever forgive me?" She looked back over at him hopefully. He realized then why he'd gotten so mad; that he'd almost lost this angel over something so stupid.

It hurt like hell, and he would probably feel the effects for days afterward, but he pulled her down to him and kissed her savagely. Every emotion from the last day had to be conveyed with this one kiss; the anger, the love, the disappointment, and he did his damnedest to do it. She moaned into him and he could feel the shivers he created rippling over her. She rested her hands on his chest and his skin burned at the contact. He could feel the need growing in her with every stroke of her tongue over his. She was realizing how close she'd come to losing him, too. He could almost smell her want. He would definitely regret it, but he wanted her. Now.

"Jack," he growled her name darkly against her lips. She backed off and looked at him; this time it was her that questioned. He grinned, or bared his teeth in challenge, either way she had her answer. Yes he was sure. She stood to the side of the bed and stripped slowly for him. Though her need was great she would go slow to make sure she didn't hurt him. Besides, she wanted to savor him after such a scare. She teased him, moving her body, her breasts, down his torso then back up. She grinned evilly as he sucked in a breath. She straddled him gently, moving her most sensitive self along his length, making her even more wet and him even more rigid. He glared at her and she only smiled in return. Poising him at the very edge of entering her she posed the question one last time.

He nodded inperceptively and she moved down onto him, slow, throwing her head back and moaning as he filled her. Riddick hissed through clenched teeth as her velvet flesh enveloped him. She didn't move for a moment and he savored the heat that surrounded him. As she began to rock that heat began to spread through his veins like a shot of whiskey on an empty stomach. She picked up a slow but steady rhythm, every motion seeped into him and filled him up. He kept his eyes pried open to watch her body. She was so beautiful in the fluid way she moved; hips forward first, then back arching a little to follow through, head cocked to the side and eyes half closed and clouded with her muted passion. He watched the flush move down her throat and into her chest. He watched the thin film of sweat beginning to form over her as she moved. Her hands seemed restless, unsure of where they should be. They fluttered over his abdomen, then to her thighs and up to her breasts. He reached up and took them in his own, entwining their fingers together. Without missing a beat her head floated back upright and her eyes opened, capturing his metallic gaze in an endless green sea. Her movements quickened, the pace picking up and he could see the impending climax in her eyes. Riddick let go of his own inhibitions, and as he felt her inner muscles tensing and fluttering around him he came with her, exploding inside her and letting the warmth that had been nagging at him envelope him now.

Jack collapsed on him, panting and spent, giving no heed to his groan of discomfort when she landed on his bruised ribs and solar plexus.

"Shush, you big baby. It's the least you can do for me after almost killing yourself," she panted into his chest as he brought the sheets up to cover the two of them in a soft embrace.

"So are you happy with your birthday present?" he chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, as long as you didn't scorch the sauce."