4. Talent

Zemma leaned her back against the wall and slowly slid down till she was sitting on the floor.

That could have gone better.

What the hell?

Did I really forget all that?

Tiger, Tiger...?

Burning Bright... yes, yes... but what's that dark spot there?

I don't know.

Zemma sighed and wished the voice in her head was more helpful.

She tipped her head back against the wall and closed her eyes to the dark. Images of blue skies and green hills, not detailed and clear like the view from outside, but simplistic and overly brilliant, invaded, making her feel queasy.

Falling....

...Mommy...

Zemma opened her eyes and bit her tongue. The darkness and the pain helped. She put her hands flat on the hard deck she was sitting on, and pressed her back against the firm wall.

Tiger, Tiger burning bright...

...What's behind that yellow light?

Zemma counted her heartbeats and slowed her breathing. Time passed slowly.

The turn of the lock was soft as a whisper. Zemma stopped breathing to listen. Yes, the lock. Either Jack or Riddick was about to intrude. Zemma did what she was so good at, she waited.

The door opened slowly, quietly. Zemma smelled soap and wood smoke. Riddick, then. She didn't twitch up her lenses.

"You in the habit of breaking into the rooms of people you don't respect?" Zemma's tone was quietly angry.

"Actually..." Irony and amusement in his voice.

Zemma snorted. "What do you want, Riddick?"

He crossed the room in two silent treads, and by the sound of it, sat on the edge of her bunk. She stayed on the floor. She still didn't twitch up her lenses; she wanted the buffer of darkness between them. She waited, again.

"You probably got a concussion...back then." 'Trying to be reasonable' voice.

He needs more practice.

"Mmm. Probably." She kept her voice flat.

"Some memory loss."

"Mmm hmm."

"I'm..." he paused, and Zemma filled in the gap.

"I'm not the one holding things back, Riddick."

"I'm not in the habit of apologizing." So much for the 'reasonable' voice.

"I'm not asking you to!" Zemma let offense filter into her voice.

Tense silence filled the room.

"What do you want, Riddick?" She repeated. "I can't hide from you here, except by your consent to leave me alone for awhile when I need it."

"You want me to leave?" Challenge.

"Again?" She asked him archly.

"I needed some time." Hotly.

"You took two weeks to talk yourself into thinking I'm not just an encumbrance, but actually working against you somehow?"

You knew he tended to react to things suspiciously, Zem.

Damn paranoid control freak.

Zemma dropped her voice "I think you must be worried I'm a burden now." It was her worry at any rate. "But how did you go from 'liability' to 'lie' in two weeks? Why would I lie?" That part still made her mad. She went on quickly...

"Isn't it bad enough I'm not your equal? I'm out of my element out here, and apparently out of my mind. That damn ship, my 'ivory tower'? I don't even know what that means! I don't know anything about the universe that I haven't read, and for years my father's tech manuals were more interesting."

Zemma pushed herself upright with her back still against the wall, her voice rising too. "I don't know how to function out here. Don't you think I get that? Don't you think I see you having second thoughts? But that doesn't give you the right to push me away - and push me around!"

He didn't respond. She couldn't see him, so she couldn't judge if she had scored any hits against his callous armor. She understood the need for it, but hadn't expected him to keep her outside of it.

Thought you were special.

Shut up!

"I may not be worthy of you Riddick. But I wont be ignored, ordered about like a servant, and generally treated like shit. Get that straight now, or take me back to the Basilica."

"If that's what you want." Cold and angry.

Well, so was she.

"No. What I want is to be in your damned arms and told everything will turn out okay, even if it isn't, because I can face anything but your regret." She'd actually reached the point of yelling.

Don't you dare cry, now. Don't you dare!

She heard the tiny rustle of movement that told her he was now standing. She still didn't look at him. He still didn't say anything.

Breathe.

She brought her voice down, spoke slowly and quietly, "Something happened to me, Riddick. I didn't know anything about it until it was gone. I still don't know what to think about it. I just woke up one day and you were gone too. I never had any control over it. I never had a chance...

"I want my chance back."

Damn stupid tears.

She kept her breathing as slow and regular as she could. Wouldn't fool him, but might keep her from flinging herself into his arms, pounding on his chest, and screaming hysterically.

She heard him approach, a part of her mind still marveled at how silently he could move. She felt his breath on her face. He sighed. She wouldn't look at him. There was just darkness, and his presence.

"Zemma..." He put a hand against her face.

Her control wavered. She tipped her head against his chest and felt his arms go around her. She cried out loud.

"It'll all turn out all right," he whispered.

"Damn stupid prick," she whispered in Furyan between hitching breaths. She felt him chuckle a little and pulled her tighter against him.

He remembered those words.

Zemma went on in Furyan, more for herself than him. "Just hold me and talk to me, damn it." She needed to get it off her chest, and get calm again. "I don't need you to say you're sorry. I don't need you to say you love me. I just need you to make me feel like you love me. Show me the whole damn universe, if you want to. Just don't make me feel alone in it, again."

"I wont," he said against the top of her head.

Zemma sniffed. He couldn't have any clue what she'd just said, he was just responding to her tone of voice. She must sound pretty pathetic. She let her arms snake around his body and hugged him anyway.

His hands rubbed her back, stroked her hair, then tipped her head back and wiped her face.

"I need to blow my nose," she apologized as she ducked out of his embrace to head for the small bathroom. She heard a thump behind her as she washed her face in the tiny sink. "What are you...?"

Zemma turned back to the room and finally twitched up her lenses. Riddick was stripping off his shirt, the mattress of her bunk on the floor at his feet. He stepped over it and caught her up by the waist, pulling her off her feet a little, and buried his face against her neck. Zemma caught her breath and felt everything inside her quicken in response to his lips.

"Damn it," she said in Furyan again. "How can you take me from the lowest lows to..." Zemma's words were cut off as she made a little sigh of anticipation.

"Mmm. Talent," he responded against her skin.

That caught Zemma off guard, "How did you know what I said?" She tried to pull away to look at him.

"What did you say?" He inquired against her ear.

"You're trying to distract me..."

He cut her off with his lips against hers. He set her down without breaking the kiss and started pulling her t-shirt up. She put her hands around his neck, stroking the now smoothly shaved skin at the back of his skull. She was definitely distracted as his hands roamed up, one against her back, the other to cup her breast. She shivered as he played with her nipple with his thumb.

"Asshole..." Furyan again, she didn't remember telling him that one.

"Don't call me that, anymore," he spoke softly, amused.

Zemma smacked his shoulder and tried to pull away again. "How did you...? How much do you know?"

Riddick scooped her up and laid her down on the disheveled bed he'd dumped on the floor. One hand caught in her hair, the other unbuttoning her pants, his mouth on a nipple now, Zemma lost the ability to speak either language for a moment.

When he stopped to pull her pants down over her hips Zemma asked, "Riddick?"

"Hmmn?" He was pulling her boots off and tossing them away with cavalier ease. They thumped loudly against the walls in the small room. "Doesn't take a genius to know you're being insulted in another language, there's a tone to it you learn to recognize."

There was a tone she had learned to recognize as well. He was teasing her.

"Liar. When did you learn Furyan?"

"Who says I did?" He spoke against her bellybutton, one hand reaching down inside her panties.

Zemma was definitely distracted now. She clutched at his smooth, bald head, tracing lightly on his skin as he moved slowly back up next to her for a long kiss that made her forget her question for a moment.

But her obstinate streak wouldn't let her stay distracted. When he let her up for air she twisted sideways, facing him, stroking his chest and kissing lightly at his face. He rested his hand on her hip, tugging at the band of her panties.

"How'd you do it?" She asked him quietly, softly, sweetly... Trying not to instigate his stubborn streak too.

"Do what?" He whispered back, suppressing a smile.

Too late.

"You're evil," she grinned back.

"Terrible," he agreed. He kissed her, slowly.

Zemma gave in and let herself savor it. He tipped her back down again, stroking her skin and giving her the shivers all over. Her nipples hardened at his touch and he hummed pleasantly in mock surprise. Zemma reached for the fasteners on his pants.

"'Bout damn time," he mumbled against her skin.

Zemma would wonder later, as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, had he said that in Furyan?