5.The River

Zemma woke to the sound of her door opening again. Riddick pulled her closer.

"Zemma?" A small whisper. "You awake?"

"Of course, Jack, what do you need?" Zemma whispered back even though Riddick was, now, already awake, too.

"I just wanted to tell you..." Hesitation. Jack's head appeared in the doorway and she must have noticed Riddick in the room too. "It's snowing outside."

Zemma wanted to jump up. Riddick must have felt her twitch, his arms close tighter around her.

"Thank you, Jack. I'll be out in a little while..."

Or longer.

The door closed with a click.

"That was pretty civil. Wha'd you do to her while I was away?" Riddick mumbled as he pulled Zemma against him.

"Bluffed her." Zemma whispered back and snuggled under the blankets away from the cold air Jack had let in.

"Bluffed?"

"We played a lot of cards."

"No more personal combat?"

"We didn't, while you were gone. I think we both worried we wouldn't stop." Zemma inhaled deeply against Riddick's neck.

"What are you doing?"

"I like the smell of us after sex."

"Go back to sleep, strange woman."

"I wanna see the snow. I've never seen snow."

"Later."

Why argue? She was happy where she was, too. Zemma let herself drift off in the darkness.

Strange dreams plagued her.

Zemma startled awake to the sound of babies crying. She found herself sitting upright in the darkness, Riddick's hand against her bare back, his breath against her face. She felt nauseous.

"Zemma? You okay? Wake up. Zemma?"

"I'm awake," she managed blearily. "Sorry. Bad dream."

"You were crying."

What? Zemma put a hand to her face and found it wet.

"You were crying 'why' over and over again," his voice was low and intense. "What were you dreaming about?"

Zemma tried to focus on the dream, but only a sick feeling remained. "I... I don't remember," she stuttered. She hated saying those words out loud. It bothered her that she'd been having so many bad dreams she couldn't remember.

She didn't think to ask what language she's been speaking in her sleep.

"Can you remember who was falling?"

"What?"

"When I took you outside."

"I don't remember saying that either," Zemma didn't mean to sound so touchy, but it disturbed her more than she cared to talk about. She just did not forget things!

"It's ok, it's ok," he pulled her against him. "Shhh."

Zemma let herself be comforted, but when he tried to lay her back down she resisted. "I'm not tired anymore," she told him. She was feeling anxious. "Distract me?"

Riddick kissed her. "How do I do that?" He mused wryly.

Zemma bit his lip. "Distract me." She whispered. She twisted and bit his neck. "Distract me. Distract me. Distract me." She punctuated each soft command with another bite.

Riddick laughed loudly. Zemma realized it had been a long time since she had heard that cheerful noise. He laid back and let her distract herself. She felt wicked satisfaction when she could elicit a small moan or gasp from him. She moved farther down his body, nipping with her lips and teeth at his nipples, against his ribs, at his hips, and then moving towards...

"Not there," he whispered, pulling her away.

"Why not?"

"Most women don't really like to do that."

Zemma resisted, she wasn't most women. She'd often wondered about it since she'd seen the Lady...

"No." His voice was firm. He pulled her up, twisted, and had her under him before she could argue. He began biting her softly.

She couldn't argue with that.

There was a knock at the door, followed by Jack's voice...

"Riddick?"

Riddick growled, and Zemma nearly laughed.

"Whaddya want, Jack?"

"Geeze, you two. Come up for air much?"

"Jack!"

"There's someone outside." Jack's voice was all business. "Wants to talk to the captain, but won't come close to the ship. Won't let me get any closer."

Riddick's head dropped against Zemma's chest in exasperation. Zemma stroked it lightly.

"We'll be along in a minute, Jack," she told the girl.

"A whole minute?" Jack snorted as she shut the door.

"Whoever it is can wait." Riddick told Zemma.

"Mmm. I want to see the snow." Zemma teased him.

Riddick paused to look her in the face.

"In a minute," she smiled.

It was closer to thirty. But they did eventually come up for air. Riddick went to meet the man standing patiently in the snow some hundred yards out from the front of the frigate. Zemma stood at the doorway marveling at the snow.

The clouds were very low, but the air was clear and not quite as cold as it had been. The light was very odd to Zemma's eye: ambient, not seeming to come from a single source but radiating from all the whiteness equally. It felt almost... cozy. She reached for some snow clinging to the handrail and marveled at its softness. She gripped the doorway and leaned out, looking around.

The trees were a contrast to the snow, but she could see between them in the strange twilight, better than in the daylight that cast such dark shadows. There seemed to be an abnormal hush, too. The air was so still, no wind in the branches and no birdsong. Everything felt very close.

Zemma took a hesitant step out, still clutching the doorway. The squeak of the snow beneath her boots surprised her; still, she didn't feel the nausea and shaking fear she expected. But she didn't dare let go of the door...yet. She simply marveled at being in the midst of the sparkling landscape, to be a part of it as some few tiny snowflakes floated lazily by her face and landed in her hair.

Zemma wasn't trying to listen to the conversation going on several hundred feet away, but clearly heard the tromp of Riddick's boots as he ran back a short ways.

"Get the ship ready to go!" He shouted. "Don't top off the oxygen tanks. I'll be a few hours." He turned to follow the figure down into the river valley, and odd set to his shoulders.

Zemma felt some trepidation. She didn't need a few hours to ready the ship, but Riddick's voice indicated some unknown danger. She stepped back inside quickly, sorry the spell of tranquility was broken. Sorry, too, Riddick had missed her big step. She turned away from the glittering setting regretfully, shutting the door without a backward look.

Jack stood a little way down the passage.

"He didn't even notice," Jack reflected a little grimly.

Zemma didn't respond in any way. She wasn't in a mood to play word games with Jack. She felt good, and planned to hold on to that as long as possible. She walked past the girl towards the cockpit, a blasé smile on her face.

"Doesn't that piss you off?" Jack asked Zemma's departing back.

"No. Jack." Zemma heard Jack's footsteps following behind her.

"It would piss me off."

"Why?" Zemma asked over her shoulder. She decided she'd warm up the engines and have breakfast. She was hungry enough that the rations might taste all right. She wondered why Riddick was so urgent about not topping off the oxygen.

"First he drags your ass out and watches you faint." Jack was following behind, sounding annoyed. "Then he doesn't even notice you step out on your own. Damn selfish bastard."

Zemma stopped, and rounded on Jack. Jack stopped short of crashing into Zemma, her eyes widened a little. Zemma waited another heartbeat before she spoke.

"Thank you, Jack." Another heartbeat later she smiled at the young woman and turned away again. She continued on to the pilot's deck, a small smile on her lips as she thought about the look of surprise on Jack's face.

Gotcha.

Zemma ran through the warm up routines. She couldn't check the hull, but Riddick had to know that.

Maybe you could?

No. It was only one step, and I never let go of the door.

But...someday.

Yes.

Maybe.

Someday.

"Where's he going this time?" Jack, apparently, decided to follow her.

"He didn't say. He sounded...worried." Zemma kept the concern out of her own voice. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No." Sullen.

Now what?

"Join me? We can play a little before he gets back."

"Yah, I guess."

"What's the matter, Jack?" Zemma kept working.

"Doesn't anything piss you off?"

Zemma laughed. "You've seen me mad."

"For about three seconds."

Zemma shrugged.

"He walks away without a word for two weeks, and hours later you're boffing him again." Jack sounded dismayed.

Zemma smiled to herself.

"He's just gonna keep treating you like shit till he leaves you." Bitterness.

Interesting point of view, Jack. But we're different people in different circumstances.

But how can I explain that to you?

"Why are you gonna let him walk all over you?"

Zemma thought about it a moment. "Gravity," she concluded.

Jack didn't say anything, at first. Finally, she laughed a little, remembering her own words about Riddick. Zemma was pleased to hear it. She'd grown up almost entirely without laughter, and didn't want to go the rest of her life without it.

She turned everything down to idle and hopped out of the pilot's seat. "Let's eat, Jack. I'm starved."

"You must be; you hate those things."

Zemma smiled, and nodded matter-of-factly.

"Hold 'Em today?" Jack asked.

"You cheat when we play Hold 'Em. You play all the other hands, and you deal."

"I'll let you deal."

She did let Zemma deal. And Jack seemed to be trying not to cheat. Still, they didn't talk much except about the hands, poker vernacular, and betting techniques. Zemma considered it a win anyway. It was down right sweet that Jack was concerned about her feelings, if only by means of how Jack herself felt.

"Remember, if it's your bet you can check or raise." Jack reminded her. "After a bet has been made all you can do is raise it again or call." Jack quickly picked up each hand she was playing in succession, making bets or folding with little hesitation.

Zemma called. They kept the bets in their heads, which suited Zemma. She was good with numbers. Jack's bets told Zemma she didn't have much, but by the time she reached her last hand, Jack would have a much greater idea of what cards were available than Zemma could with her single hand. Still, her cards were good enough to pay the price of the bet to see the first three cards, called the flop, turned over.

They bet again, and Jack threw in all but a single hand. All in all she had seen a dozen cards to Zemma's two. It was an unfair advantage for Jack. On the other hand, Zemma had an advantage of her own; she was learning to read Jack very well. Zemma called again, and threw the fourth card.

Jack and Zemma studied each other. All that was left was a final bet and the last card, called the River. Neither was going to fold now, but how much to raise? Zemma had an Ace and a Queen that was paired in the flop. Jack raised higher at the forth, called theturn card. It had been a ten, so Zemma assumed the girl paired it. Now Jack was trying to figure out from Zemma's bland calls what she could be holding.

Zemma kept her face blank, she was sure she had the better hand. All that was left was for Jack to decide her bet, Zemma to call, and turn the River card over. Zemma glanced at the watch on her wrist, a parting gift from Don, of all people. It had been three hours since Riddick left. Jack finally made her bet and Zemma called it. They turned over their cards, Jack did have a ten. Zemma turned dealt the River, a three, no help for either of them. Zemma's pair of queens (Ladies, she thought with an internal chuckle) won.

Zemma added up her winnings in her head, checked them against Jack's total, and started shuffling again. She paused when she heard a noise; Riddick had finally returned.

"He's back," Zemma mentioned casually.

"Let's go," Jack stood up.

"Don't hurry," Zemma grinned. "Sit down, wait for him. He'll find us."

He did.

"We're leaving. Now."

Zemma shuffled slowly, "Trouble?"

Jack was watching them both closely.

Riddick turned away, heading for the bridge. "I'm putting you both in cryo."

"No!" Jack jumped up. "I hate that shit."

"Tough," Riddick paused at the doorway, speaking over his shoulder. "I have to dump all the air out of this ship."

"Why?" Zemma was calmer sounding than Jack, but felt about the same.

Riddick didn't turn, he said only one word before leaving them both to deal with the concept without him.

"Plague."