"Hi, Imam," Jack smiled into her portable com-unit, "sorry I haven't been in touch for a while…it's been kinda hectic these past few weeks. We've recovered a lot of merchandise. I just wanted to let you know that I'm alright," she paused, smile wavering, "I-I miss you guys. Maybe…maybe I'll see you again sometime soon." She could feel the burning in her nose as tears prickled in her eyes. Damn it I will not cry! "Tell," her voice cracked, "tell Lajjun I said hello. And kiss Ziza for me, okay? Bye."

Pressing the send button she tossed the com-unit onto the floor and reclined onto the unyielding bed. Damn this uncomfortable bed.What am I going to do know? Club hunt? No…too tired from last night. Hmm… wonder what's on the vid screen. Nothing…shit.

In the end she decided to just take a shower and sleep until she was ready to get back into the clubs.

Stepping under the boiling spray she lathered and rinsed before lowering herself down into the corner of the bathtub she pulled her knees up against her chest and let the water spray into her face. She reached out and turned the water temperature up wincing as it scalded her skin but loving the way it made her feel clean, new, unused. She needed that the most.

Six months after signing on with Davis and his crew as an assistant engineer, Jack had found herself in Davis's bed, listening to him grunt and pant above her. He hadn't forced himself on her, not exactly, but he made it more than clear he wanted her. And since he was captain of the ship, he always got what he wanted. At the time she had reasoned that she was just doing what was necessary to maintain her position on board; but as the months went by she had to admit, she had grown to like him. Despite the ruthlessness he displayed to the felons they captured, he was for the most part kind to her, allowing her small luxuries. This was of course on condition that she shared his bed and his bed only.

It was worth it. All of it was worth it because she was now all that much closer to finding Riddick. He had left a gaping void in her life the day he had left her standing on the tarmac, crying into Imam's robe. He had abandoned her, he had promised that he'd be there and then turned around and left her. She was determined to find him. For what, she didn't know. All she knew is that since the day he had left she had never felt the same, nothing interested her; no one kept her safe at night. So as soon as she turned 18 she left everything she had come to know, to find him. To make him know that she hated him for leaving, to hurt him as bad as he had hurt her. And if that meant that she had to lie underneath Davis to maintain her place on a ship that could possibly track him down, then so be it. Shit, could've been worse.

Flashback

They had stayed in a small isolated cabin about twenty miles from the bustling city of New Mecca, waiting for the publicity of the crash to die down. Regardless of the fact that Imam had reported him as dead; Riddick after all was still the most wanted man in the galaxy. Consequently, news of his 'death' caused uproar in media coverage. Everyday his name was in the papers, everyday his face was on the news. All of the reporters were exactly the same. They announced his death with smiles plastered on their faces. Jack was half-expecting to switch the channel and see some news broad wearing a party hat, throwing confetti into the air while joyously repeating the news of the death of the infamous Richard B. Riddick. Riddick the murderer, the convict, the psychopath, the rapist. Riddick who had never done a decent thing in his entire miserable existence.Bullshit.

They would never know that every night he lifted the blankets up for her, without complaining, so she could crawl in next to him after she had a nightmare about the planet, which he had affectionately nicknamed ' the dark side of Satan's asshole', (even Imam had nodded grimly at that particular epithet). That's right, the so-called psychopathic murdering rapist, kneaded the tension out of her back every night until she fell asleep. He made chocolate chip pancakes with her every Saturday morning; and he didn't even complain when she picked the chips out of the batter, he taught her how to meditate, how to hide her emotions, to make a decent shiv, he taught her how to survive. Shit he even taught her how to play 'Black Jack'. They would never know they would never want to fucking know, because it was easier to just see what the government said they should see. And it broke her heart.

One night Jack had been particularly upset about the repetitive news casts and had stormed into Riddick's room almost knocking him off the beam he had used for pull-up's. He had dropped down in front of her, shirtless, sweating a little, right eyebrow lifted.

Her eyes had bugged a little bit at the sight of his perfectly muscled abdomen. She had seen him shirtless before, hundreds of times, when they sparred and when he slept; but she had been prepared for that... this time she had been caught off guard. She knew she was blushing and she hated it. She hated more that he noticed, and she absolutely detested the smirk that pushed itself onto his face. Cocky bastard.

"Tryna' kill me now Jackie," he teased, her mouth went dry as he ran his hand down his perfectly cut stomach, "you're gonna have to do better than that." He noticed that her eyes were glued to where his hand was resting above the waistband of the sweats he wore. Suppressing the urge to laugh he clicked his fingers to get her attention and watched as her eyes guiltily snapped back up to his face.

"Sorry," She mumbled, sitting down on his bed, she picked up his black tank and began twisting it through her fingers, looking everywhere but at him.

"S'there a problem?"

"No," she lied, like she could ever lie to him, "why?"

His brow rose higher as he pointed at the tank that she was now yanking across her fingers.

" 'Cause you're stretching the shit outta my shirt, kid."

She dropped it on the floor and flew up off the bed whirling around to face him. She planted her hands on her hips, which made Riddick smirk even wider. He stopped smiling however when he saw the tears brimming in her eyes.

"Kid, what the fuck?" It was his way of asking what was wrong. She understood.

"R-Riddick," she stuttered, she took a deep breath, she hated herself for crying in front of him, "do you hear the shit they-they say about you on the TV," she demanded. "It's bullshit, those motherfuckers…they…Riddick, they said…" she started to yell.

"Kid, your language," he interrupted, leaning back against the wall and lacing his fingers together behind his head, letting his eyes fall shut.

"What the fuck about it," she challenged.

"Watch it." He growled. "Or what," she pushed, she was angry and she wanted someone to acknowledge it.

His eyes snapped open and he pinned her with his intense silver gaze. Slowly he cracked his knuckles, watching her the whole time, "You really wanna find out, little girl?"

She held his gaze for a moment challenging him, but as he started to rise she flopped down to sit crossed legged on the floor. He stayed sitting half way up until she flashed him a watery smile and she heard a deep grumble that could've been mistaken for laughter as he relaxed back against the wall closing his eyes once more. They were silent for a long while until she broke the silence. "Riddick, do you hear what they say about you on the TV?"

"Yeah, kid, I hear 'em", he answered, he didn't sound upset in the least. Jack was appalled. "Doesn't it piss you off," she asked.

"Why would it?"

"Because they're calling you a killer, an animal," she said looking at him. He chuckled.

"But I have killed people, kid, you know that."

"But…"she started, she knew he had killed men, but he only did what he needed to survive. "And I can be an animal, Jack."

"Yeah Riddick I know that, that's fine…that's whatever…but…,"she hesitated.

"But what?"

"But… they're saying that you..uh..you know…erm…."

"Spit it out, kid."

"They're saying that you've raped women." She couldn't believe she'd actually said those words to him.

"And?" He shrugged.

WHAT?!

"What do you mean 'what'…Riddick? You're…they're lying right…I mean y-you're not, right? You're not…" they're lying, oh god tell me they're lying…

Riddick slowly opened his eyes. He was silent, so silent Jack could hear her heart breaking. He leaned all the way forward to place his forearms on his knees, never breaking eye contact with her, cocking his head to the side. She shook uncontrollably, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides, "R-Riddick…Riddick please…,"she begged without saying it please please say 'no'

He slowly stretched his hand out to her and she flinched. His jaw tightened and his brow furrowed but his hand remained outstretched. Her eyes met his, pleading.

"Riddick," she whimpered.

"Jack," he said softly, "you know I'm not." She sobbed grabbing his hand tight, relief sweeter than anything she'd ever experienced.

"You know I'm not, kid," he sighed as he pulled her into his arms holding her tight against his chest as his hand rubbed firm circles on the back of her neck. She curled up into a ball on his lap and he held onto her still as he reclined back against the wall once more.

"You scared me Riddick," she whimpered, no longer caring if he knew or not. He was silent for a long time. "I'm sorry, kid," he rumbled. She nodded against his chest. "Jack look at me".

She shook her head. "Look at me Jack," he said soft but firm. She raised her head slowly and looked straight into his penetrating mercurial stare. "I'm sorry, okay?"

What was this? Richard B. Riddick, apologizing? Apologizing to some little girl...for scaring her? He was Richard B. fucking Riddick. The Big Bad, the Big Evil. He was supposed to be scary, shit! But here he was; sitting in this room with a scared girl in his arms apologizing, nonetheless. And it didn't seem to bother him at all.

"Okay," she nodded; inhaling deep she gave him her bravest smile.

They sat together in silence for a long time; his competent fingers digging into her back was starting to make her sleepy. She mumbled something, on the verge of sleep. "What was that, kid?"

She yawned, "I said I'm glad you're not, because I couldn't do it again."

That woke Riddick right the fuck up, his grip on Jack tightened until she was squirming. "What do you mean 'again'Jack?!"

He shook her awake, "What the fuck do you mean 'again'?"

She suddenly looked very nervous. Riddick didn't like a nervous Jack. Jack was damn near fearless; a nervous Jack meant shit was bad… real bad. He tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. She looked at him tears streaming down her face, expecting to see disgust and pity. Instead she saw dawning comprehension, quickly replaced by unchecked anger.

"Know his name?" He bit out the question

She had been so startled by his tone that she had just blurted it out, "Bernard Kaufmann," she swallowed hard fighting back the bile rising in her throat, "my uncle."

"What planet?"

She didn't like the way this was going, "Riddick, I-I don't…"

"What planet, Jack?" His tone was impatient.

"Suberius... small mining planet."

There was a long silence as Riddick seemed to plot the course in his head.

"Riddick," she whispered hanging her head, "does it make me bad?"

"What?"

"Does it-what he did to me...he…does it make me bad? Because I couldn't stop him?" She glanced up, Riddick wasn't even looking at her, he seemed to be a million miles away…it scared her a little bit. She almost jumped when he wrapped his arms around her tighter, forcing her to look away from his face. She could hear him clenching and unclenching his jaw. The sound of his teeth grinding together made her worried that he was going to break them!He buried his face into her short curly hair and inhaled

"Riddick?"

"No, kid," the rumbling answer came from deep in his chest.

She didn't know it but he loved the way she smelled of shampoo and those damn candy apples she kept having Imam bring home for her. She also didn't know that her burying her head into the crook of his neck had quieted the beast within him, calming the bullets of rage that had been ricocheting around inside of his chest.

"It doesn't make you bad. Don't you ever fucking think that, Jack, you hear me?"

"Yes." She sighed relaxing into his arms further.

"Good. Because you're not bad, Jack…you may be an annoying little brat sometimes…" he smiled as she swatted playfully at his shoulder, "but it doesn't make you a bad person…" he had whispered the next words into her ear, "but it does make your uncle one dead motherfucker, understand?" She knew he had meant it, but the shiver that ran up her spine from his whispering in her ear had nothing to do with fear. But he didn't need to know that.

"You okay, Jack," he asked, stretching out on the bed and pulling her down to rest on his arm.

"Yes," she replied, sleepy from the emotional strain, "I'm alright now. I have you now, right?" Her heart stopped as she waited for his answer.

"Yeah, kid," he whispered into her head of curls, "you've got me now."

"You promise," she whispered into his arm. "Yeah, Jack, yeah I promise."

End flashback

Jack let herself be pulled back into the present.

Tears were streaming down her face, mixing with the water which was becoming increasingly cold. You promised she silently cursed him, you promised me, you bastard. And I believed you.

"You told me that I had you", she cried into her knees, "and then you left me, you left me and never looked back."

She cried until she couldn't cry anymore. And when the water had finally lost all of its warmth, she crawled into her pajamas and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.