It was nearly 23:00 when Nicola returned to the apartment. She was a little surprised when she opened Jack's door and found the light up and the room empty. The door to her own room stood open, but it was dark. Surprised, confused, she hurried to the door. She could see Riddick sitting on the bed, wrapped in a towel, gazing at the wall.
"Riddick? Where's Jack? Is everything all right?" She dropped her robe on the end table, hesitating in the doorway.
"I sent her home with Meddia."
"What? Why?"
"Something... happened." He stood, still not meeting her eyes. Then he strode over to her, picking her up and carrying her to the bathroom, yanking off her shoes as he went. Nicola squawked in surprise, her mind going utterly blank.
Riddick deposited her fully dressed in the shower, barely pausing to let the towel hit the floor before he turned the water on. Nicola shrieked as the cold water hit her, trying to move, but Riddick held her there, dialing the water over to something warmer.
"What the fuck?! Are you out of your mind? What are you..."
"Shut up." He held her in a tight embrace." Just... shut up." There was none of his usual conviction and authority in the command, and that rocked her. She went still, let the water batter her, soak her clothes, let him hold her. She saw a knife sitting next to the soap on the ledge. It chilled her. Something was very, very wrong.
The big man dropped to his knees suddenly, pressing his face into the dripping skirt of her dress. He was still hugging her fiercely. She stared down at him through the curtain of water, her hand tentatively stroking his head. He looked... defeated.
"Say something," he murmured at her waist.
"You... just told me to shut up."
"Don't care. Say something." She looked at him, incredulous. She'd never seen him so... vulnerable. She couldn't yell. She couldn't interrogate. Couldn't demand. Tread carefully.
"Jack is safe?" She asked quietly.
"Yeah."
"You want to talk about it?"
"Not yet."
"What do you want?"
"You. I want you to be... you." He rose, finally meeting her eyes. Utterly unguarded. She touched his cheek, awed by the desperation, pleading behind the silver reflection. Something was broken.
"Riddick, love..." He shut his eyes, leaning into her caress. He pulled her tightly against him again, his face going to her neck.
"Tell me it's you." His voice was muffled in her hair.
"Of course."
"Tell me it's you." There was anger now, demand.
"It's...me, love. It's me." She wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt a lump in her throat.
"Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours. Always yours, love." She felt tears sting her eyes. His grip on her loosened. He raised his face again, water dripping down, eyes still closed. His lips brushed hers softly, seeking confirmation, acceptance. She pressed her lips, body, against him. Willing him back to meet her, feel her. The tenderness of his kissing made her ache. This was not her predator. It was her mate, but he was so... human.
His hands moved down her back, still gentle, slow. Almost apologetically, he pulled her dress up, over her head, divested her of her underthings. Nothing between them now but water. But this wasn't sexual. Not yet anyway.
He held her there a minute, silent, stroking her wet hair. Then he seemed to reach some decision, and reached behind her to turn off the water. Refusing to let go of her, he grabbed a towel and wrapped her in it one handed, then cradled her against his chest and carried her to the bed.
He kissed her deeply as he joined her between the sheets. "Mine," his low voice held a measure of his usual growl. His hands began a slow familiar sweep of her curves, but gently, reverently. Eyes on her face again, gauging every touch. Hesitant, like she might disappear. Part of her was caught up in the physical exchange, thrilling at the slow veneration, the banking fire. But part of her was terrified, this wasn't the Riddick she knew, the character, the openness, was off.
He sighed suddenly, laying his cheek between her breasts, large hand making a slow lazy circle between her breast and hipbone. The silver eyes closed, she felt the flutter of lashes. After a second she could feel him matching her breathing, the motion of his hand matching her inhales, exhales. It made her almost shiver.
"Say my name."
"Riddick?" His hand stopped.
"No. Say my name."
"Richard?" She felt lips on her breast. Soft kisses. He worked his way up her shoulder, neck.
"Say it again." Forehead, lips, pressed to hers.
"Richard." She drew it out. He sighed in assent.
"Good. That's what I want to hear you say when you cum."
Afterward, he held her tightly, wouldn't let her move away. It made sleeping difficult. Stupid hot male, she thought crossly, longing to escape to the cool comfort of 'her' side of the bed. But she didn't dare push him away, actively struggle. There was still something fragile to his possessiveness, and even that little bit of territorial behavior had a small comfort of normal 'Riddick' behavior. So she endured. Besides, if icy feet against his calf wouldn't make him let her go, she was out of ideas anyway.
She awoke from fever dreams some time later, hearing the beeping of an incoming call. It was soft, not her emergency line, she didn't allow communications to her personal line after hours. Riddick rolled over, releasing her, and picked up his wrist com. She hadn't noticed it on the bedside table.
"Yeah."
"It's done." Quiet, female voice... Ziza?
"Thanks."
"Did you tell her yet?"
"No."
"If you don't, I will."
"In the morning." Click. She heard the power go off. He tossed it back on the table, rolled back over to hold her again.
"Riddick? What was that?"
"Nothing. Go back to sleep."
"But it sounded like..."
"In the morning. Go back to sleep." There was enough of his usual growl to quiet her.
She awoke, alone in the bed, to the sound of the com news. Flipping voices, stations. Then silence again.
The room was bright as she opened her eyes, the curtains were open. Odd. Riddick was standing by the window, staring out at the yard. Geared up, as she termed it. Goggled, sturdy boots, knives strapped to his back and over his arm. Those were just the visual ones. Then she smelled turcay, saw a mug on the end table, reached for it as she swung out of bed. He didn't look at her, as she picked up her robe, and walked over to the desk, where the news feed was paused. He obviously wanted her to watch this. She sat, put the mug down, and hit play.
"Fire in the early hours this morning, claimed several buildings in the military compound across the square from the capitol. New Mecca fire control assisted military personnel in the battle against the blaze, containing the fire after three hours. Flames and smoke were visible from several blocks away as seen here.
A military spokesperson indicated that the area was a storage facility for decommissioned and damaged equipment, and that they felt lucky there were no major explosions from fuel cells or munitions, nor any loss of life. No injuries were reported, though two fire control officers were treated for smoke inhalation and released. Authorities speculate that faulty electrical wiring or improper chemical storage may have been the cause of the blaze, but military officials were tight lipped about the investigation..."
Nicola clicked the stop button. "You wanted me to see this. Why?"
"That's not what happened." She waited, turning in the chair, gazing at his silhouette against the bright morning sun.
"And?"
"There was at least one casualty." Nicola inhaled sharply. "A woman. Used to work for ReGen."
"Riddick..." She knew he killed people. Hell, she'd killed people. But not recently... not in the capital.
"Don't worry. She deserved it. A couple times over. Ziza took care of the clean up." He sounded like the old Riddick. The one she first met. Cold. Disinterested.
"But what..."
"She lured me to the yard last night, jacked me. Pumped me full of some shit. Wanted me for some research project. Didn't know who she was messin' with." Nicola gaped. He turned, his face was stone.
"But, you could have..."
"She fucked me, Nicola. And I damn well Fucked. Her. Back." That was the voice of the killer. No mercy. No remorse. Her gut went cold. She felt the color drain out of her face. She felt woozy. Nothing she could say to that. She just blinked.
"I'm going hunting." He stepped past her. "Off world." The last word an afterthought. The door shut, and Nicola just stared into the emptiness for a long time.
The smell hit her in the hallway down the corridor from her apartment. Musky, damp like a wet dog. The acrid scent of unwashed bodies or raw meat underlying the animal smell grew as she neared the door. She heard Jack shriek in laughter. Oh Gods, what has my daughter dragged home now?
Jack was on the floor, spread eagle in the middle of the room, lying on something large and white and furry. She was making mock snow angels, rubbing hands and face in the fur. Riddick was dumping gear out of a pack on the bed. "Mommy!" The little girl jumped up to hug her. "Look what daddy brought me!"
Nicola fought down a gag. Her daughter reeked of that... pelt on the floor. Whatever it was. Bigger than a cow, or it had been. And it hadn't been cured properly. Oh Gods, the carpet will be ruined! Jack seemed oblivious, skipping back to the white monstrosity on the floor and flopping back down. "Soft!" She added.
Nicola looked sideways at Riddick, who was busy wiping down his favorite knives and putting them back on the display rack on the wall. His face held that calm, amused not-smile that was something of his trademark, almost pleased. She crossed her arms. "Uh huh. Very interesting, darling."
"Wanna see what else?" Jack jumped up again, picking something up from the pile on the bed. "Daddy said I can have one of these when I'm older! I can make a necklace, like Ziza's!" The little girl was bouncing around with a three inch black claw... or was it a tooth?... in her hand.
"Very nice, dear. But mommy wants you to go wash your hands when you're done playing with that... thing."
"It's a bear claw, isn't it Daddy?" She ran over to him, yanking on his pant leg. Riddick looked amused.
"Yeah. Why don't you go show that to Meddia? She can take you to the park and you can show your little friends."
"Ok," Jack was still half-skipping, half bouncing around the room. She ran for the door and disappeared down the hall. Nicola shook her head.
"Where is Meddia?"
"Down in the courtyard. Relax. I told her to wait till you got back, then take Jack out for a while."
"Uh huh. Well, I hope you plan on getting that big nasty whatever-it-is out of here and someplace to get it cleaned and cured proper after you unpack." Riddick's lips twitched.
"Ursa something-or-other from UV-6. Didn't have time to do more than skin it. Wanted to get back. And I'll get to it, later." He dropped the gear he was holding on the bed, came over and hugged her. "What'd I tell you I miss most about civilized life?"
"Oh, gods, do you stink!" Nicola shoved him away. "Worse than that thing on the floor. What did you wear it home?!" Riddick let her go, shrugging.
"Kinda shredded my parka before I picked up my knives again and Xed him." He crossed the room to the door to the main apartment. He pulled off his shirt in the doorway, calling over his shoulder. "Come join me if you want." Nicola was still stuck on the 'picked up my knives again' bit.
"You took on something that size bare-handed?!? What were you thinking?!?" She followed him to the doorway, he kept walking toward the bathroom. She could see his back now, a set of gash marks visible over his right shoulder. Deep, discolored. They were covered in something dark, a field clotting liquid bandage, part of any military survival pack. Still, they looked nasty.
He caught her look from the mirror in the bathroom as she approached. There was that lazy, self-satisfied grin. "What? Figured I wanted a fair fight. Too easy to just gut 'em." He shrugged. "Besides, I made a bit of a mess with the first one. Not enough left to recover the pelt." Nicola stopped in front of the door. He said it so casually. She shivered. Riddick didn't make messes, which meant he hadn't been in control. It was just a bear-creature. Not a person. She shuddered again as she heard him turn on the shower. It was understandable, after what he'd been through, but...
"You gonna get in here and help me get this sealant off my back?" Nicola rolled her eyes. Such romance and courtesy. She went to the cabinet and pulled out a laser-plaster unit. It was meant for small cuts, the kind a fearless five-year-old came home with regularly. It wouldn't close the larger gashes over his shoulder, but it would at least disinfect them and knit the edges closed better than the field-sealer. She disrobed and joined him.
Up close, she could see the beast had actually done more damage. Riddick was bruised, and there were cuts along his lower arms and puncture marks above his right hip. "Did that thing... bite you?" She fingered the semi-circular contusion pattern in line with the teeth marks.
"Suppose. What's that thing?"
"Laser-plaster. You should see a doctor about that shoulder, but this should close some of those other lacerations. Cuts down on scarring."
"I'm fine with scars." He grabbed her hip, running fingers over her own ragged marking. "Defines the action you've seen." He kissed her.
"Hmm. Not everyone wants to remember their battles, Riddick." She eyed him ruefully. But if he understood her mild dual inference to the situation they still hadn't discussed, he ignored it. He kissed her cheek and turned around, letting her start work on his back with her laser.
When she finally finished with his arm, he closed his fist, flexing the muscle, testing the bonding. "Not bad. Next time I'll take you along, you can play nursemaid. Just like this." He pulled her to him tightly. She laughed.
"Naked and wet, on a frozen world, while you hunt beasties. Right. However will I stay warm?"
"Oh, I think I can take care of that." He pushed her against the wall of the stall, hand in her hair, pulling her face up. His eyes held that dark lust, the territorial gleam. His nostrils flared slightly. Nicola felt that conditioned ache of anticipation go through her insides.
"Think I'm gonna take my nurse back to the bed and play a little doctor now," he'd dropped his voice down to that inviting rumble she loved. "Unless you wanna stay in here." Nicola smiled.
"Whatever the doctor orders."
He kept her close afterward. Lingering doubt? she wondered. She'd talked to Ziza, and Kij. Both had kept it to a minimum, only corroborating what Riddick had told her, verified that he had told her. The sociopathic bitch had made him think it was her, drugged him, and...
No one knew exactly what had happened, how it ended. Ziza muttered something about a broken camera, but the recording was fried. Nicola didn't care. That horrible doctor got off easily with her death. She didn't bother even indulging in revenge fantasies, what she would have done to that sub-human skank.
Once the numbness had worn off the first day, there was anger and revulsion, just utter vomiting sickness. Then she'd cried a lot. Not even for herself. This was not a wound she could fix for Riddick, and she was terrified of the lasting damage. With women, at least there was a support system, a way of understanding and dealing with the crime. And women talked. The violence-prone predator snoozing beside her? Bear-thing #1 back on UV-6 was probably the best qualified to answer that one. Still...
"Riddick?" He grunted. "We need to talk about this." He was silent a minute, but she felt his shoulders tighten.
"You talked to Ziza?"
"Yes."
"Nothing to say then." Nicola sighed.
"You can't just..."
"Yes I can. Drop it." His tone was warning. She didn't care.
"Fine. After I say this. Just listen." She took a breath, closed her eyes. "When I got you back, on Aguaran Minor, you said something, that prophecy." Riddick snorted. "You, of all people should realize by now that if the universe wants something out of Mr. Richard B. Riddick, it's going to get what it wants, one way or another."
"Fuck it. Don't care."
"Well I do." She rolled over, put her arm over him, face against his chest. "I know what could have happened. What still can. And while the idea scares me to death, I know I'd rather be the one to give you a son than let anything remotely like that ever happen again." His hand came up, stroking her hair.
"I'm not asking you to..."
"Shut up. I'm jealous too. You're a big dumb violent predator, but you're my big dumb violent predator. And I'm going off hormone suppression. I already did. I'm only telling you this because I might get... bitchy... moody... for a bit. And we are not trying for a kid. We'll let nature decide that."
"But I like trying. Something us big dumb violent predators understand."
"Shut up."
"And it's good for dealing with bitchy moody politicians."
"I said SHUT UP."
"Only if you find something to shut me up until our daughter gets back."
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Author's Note: So, you read this far, whatcha think? I went ahead and allowed for anonymous reviews. I'm really open to hearing what people think. Do people care? Am I overthinking this? I have a habit of using sex/smut to illustrate a point, or reveal bits about a character, but I also get terribly annoyed with language that jars the reader or is overtly body-part heavy. I figure nudge the imagination and what you come up with is your own business. That said, how about that last chapter, huh? Haven't seen a serious treatment of the concept in this fanverse (other than "Persephone and Hades" and that was just in passing - but that's a dark, evil story... good, but nothing like this.) Was it ok?
So please, drop me a line in the chapter review. I do want to hear from people.
