Title: Past Lives

Vindom: Pitch Black

Rating: M (for bad language)

Summary: Riddick re-lives his time in SLAM….

Disclaimer: Riddick doesn't belong to me, nor do the events of PB, however much I wish they did. I do own Lena, and the situations I put her and Riddy into. I'm doing this for love, not money so please don't sue me, as I'm skint enough already :grin:

Author's notes: Found this and thought I'd put it back up

3 .Dr Lena Jacobs

The party entered a large, brightly lit room and Riddick stopped suddenly, the stringent smell of antiseptic making him gag slightly. The guards escorting him pulled him forward, dumping him unceremoniously on a large, black leather bench. The shackles remained in place as the guards exited the room, leaving the murderer alone with the object of his recent fantasies.

"Lay down Mr Riddick," although softly spoken, the words carried no hint of a request; she expected him to do exactly what she told him to do, and without any arguments. One eyebrow cocked in mild interest at her words, Riddick did as she asked, broken bones and bruised muscles sending sharp stabs of pain through his body as he tried to get comfortable. Stretching his arms above his head, he moved his hands apart, deliberately testing the heavy restraints in an attempt to make the woman nervous. He relaxed onto the table as he saw the amused grin she wore, knowing that for the time being he wasn't going to get a reaction out of her. The leather felt cool against his skin, a fact that intrigued him given the overly warm temperature of the room.

He glanced around the room as he waited for the guard the finish whatever she was doing, noting that the table across from him appeared to be one complete piece. "Nothin to break off and use as a weapon," he thought wryly. The whitewashed walls and the plain furniture were a stark contrast to the other occupant of the room, helping to accentuate her subtle feminism. The two female guards at The Tangiers Penal Colony he had initially been sent to after he had been convicted, had been pretty but neither had had the distinct female aura this one had. Although she played the role of a hard-as-nails prison guard to perfection, Riddick was in no doubt that any red-blooded heterosexual male would want to satisfy his every sexual desire with her.

Eyes narrowed slightly, he watched the guard approach him, as a predator watches its prey.

"I'm Dr Lena Jacobs and I'm going to have a look at your injuries," she explained as she expertly examined his obvious injuries, deftly applying a soothing cream over the angry purple bruises. Pressing gently over his stomach and hips, she watched him intently for any sign of pain caused by her probing. She stopped several times when she saw even the tiniest hint of a flinch, her expression becoming more and more cold as she carried out her examination.

"Bastard!" Muttered under her breath, Riddick almost missed the single curse but the hatred in her tone was unmistakable.

"Love you too," he laughed at her, hissing slightly as she touched a particularly sensitive spot and a stab of pain shot through his lower body.

"What?" she demanded, her gaze fixing angrily on him for a moment before a small smile began tugging at her full lips. "You heard that? It wasn't actually directed at you Mr Riddick," she informed him, piquing his curiosity as to whom the curse had been directed at.

"So who were you talkin to then Doc? There ain't no-one else in the room y'know,"

"No, really? I would never have guessed we were alone in here if you hadn't told me Mr Riddick," Tone laden with sarcasm, she cast an amused glance at him before turning away and walking over to the plain wooden desk. Her expression startled slightly, she looked up as he began to laugh, the deep baritone boom echoing around the empty room.

"OK, you're going to feel a little scratch…" she told him as she returned to his side, deftly inserting a syringe into his right thigh. He tensed for a moment, top lip curled into a snarl, before relaxing back onto the examination table with a small sigh.

Darkness began to envelop him as the strong painkiller she had given him swiftly took effect. As the pain of his injuries ebbed away, he fought to remain awake, not trusting himself to sleep in such alien surroundings. However, his body, finally released from the pain, seemed to have other ideas and he gradually inched closer and closer to the restful, healing sleep he so desperately needed to recover. As the oblivion of sleep finally pulled him down, he thought he heard the doctor say "Sleep well Richard" but he couldn't be sure…