( A/N: To those of who have reviewed so far, muchos gracias, it makes the 'carpal tunnel' worth it! I'm trying to keep the story regulary updated so bear with me!)


After a particularly memorable incident involving a combative convict and a drunken, now deceased, crewmate Davis had implemented a zero tolerance drinking rule on the ship, much to Jack's dismay. She was determined to make up for it that night. In fact, over the past half hour she had enjoyed spending time with her two best buddies Jack Daniels and Jose Cuervo. The phrase 'make that a double' had left her mouth so many times that night that the bartender had finally just sat the bottles in front of her and charged them both to her account. She slammed her shot glass back down onto the bar, that's enough for one night…still have to make it back to the ship in the morning. The vibration of the bass worked up trough her body, calling her to the dance floor, my last night of freedom, might as well live it up. She wanted to lose herself and in this crowd of bodies mashing and grinding against each other, she knew that it wouldn't be a problem.

She had even been making some eye contact with some 'tall-dark-and-handsome' guy sitting further down the bar from her. Sure, he was wearing a mesh shirt, and had been staring at her like she was a pork chop and he a starving man, but… he would do. She sashayed past him, almost giggling as he whipped his head around to follow her movements. She shuddered as she thought of what Davis would do if he could see her right now. He had made it clear to her that he didn't share…ever. Pursing her lips she forced thoughts of Davis from her mind, he's never gonna know. She knew that the man had followed her onto the dance floor without even turning around. Elbowing her way into the center of the crowd she stiffened as she felt his hand on her waist but relaxed as he leaned forward and whispered huskily into her ear, "My name's Alex."

"It doesn't matter," she whispered back beginning to move her hips in time with the music. And it didn't. She was so lost in the movement of his body and the bodies around her that she was able to shake of the eerie feeling they she was being watched. Tilting her head back, she scanned the upper floor of the club; a shining pair of liquid silver orbs jerked her attention to a table situated right in front of the railing. She felt her heart skip a beat as she shook her head, trying to peer harder into the darkness above. The eyes were gone. God, she thought mentally kicking herself, I really AM losing it.


Riddick chided himself on his carelessness as he pulled his goggles back down to cover his eyes. She had almost seen him. Nursing his beer, he continued to watch Jack slither up and down some guy on the dance floor. What's this idiot wearing; he scoffed to himself, a mesh shirt? Jesus…some taste you got there Jackie girl. And could you possibly be dancing any closer, shit… He chalked up the tightening in his chest to anger…because the only other option, well…wasn't an option at all. Because Richard B. Riddick didn't get jealous. Especially over some broad.

But she's not just some broad is she? The beast snickered evilly from deep inside.

No, she's Jack, he answered truthfully.

And what does that mean, exactly, Dickey boy, hmm, it whispered back.

It means she's like my goddamn little sister, so just shut the fuck up, he snapped angrilyThe beast's only response was a contemptuous snort of laughter.

He continued his mockery of Jack's dancing partner in his mind. He had just about lost his patience with watching her wiggle against the guy, and was considering just walking up behind the asshole and opening up some arteries, when she turned and licked the man's neck, What the fuck was that, before pulling him off the dance floor, headed straight for the exit. And where the hell do you think you're going little girl?

Something told him that he didn't want to know the answer. He threw down some credit chips and pushed back from the table following her out into the alley she was heading down.

Riddick was a predator, no doubt about it. He moved quickly and silently, eyes never leaving the couple in front of him; he was aware of every noise, every movement from the street. He was in his element…hell; he was beginning to enjoy himself, well, except for the annoying fact that Jack was currently hanging all over some idiot who Riddick had the strangest urge to strangle. His hands were literally itching to wrap themselves around the man's neck, or even better, Jack's. He wanted to shake the shit out of her; she was disregarding everything he'd ever taught her. Just what the fuck do you think you're doing, he growled to himself, walking down an empty alley, at night, with some motherfucker you don't know, he stopped then, listening to her unusually loud and abrasive laughter echoing off the buildings around them , and you're DRUNK. Sloppy, kid, real sloppy.


Jacks head was swimming as they teetered up the stairs towards her hotel room. She knew she was leaning almost entirely on, what was his name again, oh yeah...Alex. She felt his hand slide up her arm. She shivered, but not in a good way. Drunk as she was, she wasn't sure she wanted to take it this far. As they cleared the landing his touches became more persistent and Jack found herself being backed up against her own door, hands resting lightly on his chest, not quite pushing.

His knee snaked its way between her legs and she stiffened. No, this wasn't what she wanted. She pushed lightly against his chest, "Hey, look man…I don' think…" she fought down the urge to panic when he knocked her hands away and began kissing his way across her jaw and down her neck. "Hey! Godammit I said no… get off me..." She pushed him again, lifting her body off the door before his chest slammed her back down into it mumbling, "Shh, don't be such a fucking tease."

She panicked. Squirming against him for room she tensed up and slammed her knee into his crotch, delighting in the sound of his pain filled grunt. "Fuck," he gasped curling over, "you stupid bitch." She grabbed for her shiv, her movements were sloppy and uncontrolled. I'm fucking drunk, she screamed at herself feeling sick panic rise up her throat, I'm not in control anymo

Her thoughts were cut short as Alex's fist slammed into her jaw; she saw little red dots as her head smashed back into door. She swung out at him, disoriented from the blow; he landed a punch to her kidney and as she doubled over he grabbed her hair and yanked her back up into standing position, slamming her up against the door. She cried out in pain as the knob dug into the sensitive flesh of her lower back before his hand connected with her lips. She tasted blood.

He grabbed her wrists in one hand and painfully wrenched them up against the door. "That was a cheap shot baby," he sneered pulling her wrists up higher, "you flirt all night, then turn into a cold fish? I don't fucking think so, you little whore." She spat at him and he laughed.

He was so much bigger than she was, shit, he was sober too. Her struggling was doing nothing more than exciting him. He leaned in and kissed her lips, bruising them, biting them. She choked back a scream as his other hand raked down her chest tearing the thin material of her shirt, painfully kneading her breast. She watched as the buttons fell to the ground, as if in slow motion. The sounds of people in the streets, dogs barking, the transit rail rambling by; everything seemed so far away. The steady thumping of the bass streaming from a nearby club drowned out all other sounds. She was sliding out of consciousness; her lungs screamed for air, but his hand gripping her neck only tightened. She couldn't fight it. Her body just said 'no'.

She jerked when hot liquid sprayed across her face. Snapping her head up, she watched as Alex's eyes widened and then rolled back into his head. She watched as the tip of the shiv which was protruding above his Adam's apple slid smoothly back out, and blood rushed down his throat staining his skin through his tight mesh shirt. His knees buckled and he slumped down spluttering and grasping at her skirt, his blood left a bloody trail across her chest and stomach. Her eyes were glued to the top of his head which was resting on her thigh when the the sound of metal sliding against leather made her raise her head.

Silhouetted against the dim flickering light of the hallway, hand still grasping the handle of a now sheathed shiv, stood a large hooded man; even with the cloak covering his face he exuded an air of menace… danger. She opened her mouth to scream. For who? She didn't know, didn't give a shit. It just seemed appropriate at the time. Nothing came out.

She watched, mesmerized as he reached up and grasped the side of his hood. What the fuck is this, she wondered as an unpleasant tingle of recognition ran through her body. All her thoughts stopped, however, the second he pulled back his hood. She blanched; eyes bugging out of her head.

The shaved head, with aviator goggles perched on top.

Oh. My. God.

The full, smirking lips.

Oh fuck, oh-my-god oh-my-god.

The pools of liquid silver, shining at her from underneath two arched brows.

Motherfu…

"Riddick."

An amused smirk was the last thing she saw before she slumped over the dying man kneeling at her feet and cracked her head on the ground. Lights out.


"You thon oba bitch," the woman screamed around the bit in her mouth, "you can't do dis, I'm a fwee woman, I habba fam..." she was cut off as a stun gun was shoved into her neck, knocking her out.

The small warehouse was filled with the sound of sobbing, pleas, and cries of the four other people lying bound and gagged on the floor.

"Ten thousand creds apiece," Davis said, kicking the now unconscious woman, "fifteen for her, the bitch bit me."

"Four thousand each. Any of these people actually wanted for anything," the man holding the stun gun asked, "I don't want any of your collegues trying to collect a bounty on my new merchandise."

Gerod and Riley stood behind Davis, hands on their gauges, eyes wide open…they hated doing exchanges; slave traders were sketchy people, you never knew which ones were trying to step you up, pull some tricky shit.

"No," Davis answered, "no convicts. Crew on a shipping vessel…and they're ten thousand a piece."

"Five thousand."

"Not a chance," Davis laughed, "ten thousand and not a fucking cred less."

"Six," the man asked hopefully. Davis remained silent. "Fine…eight for all, no more…they're not worth it."

"Deal." Davis threw the chains at the feet of the man and handed him two cred chips, "put thirty on one and ten on the other. No bullshit either, I want all forty thou' now."

The warehouse door slammed shut behind the three men as they hurried back to the hoverjet. Smiling he fingered the two credit chips in his pocket. Forty thousand, not bad for a days' work, he smiled wider, that plus the fifty we got from the "stolen merchandise" that we "returned" to the Counsel. Sheeit. He almost laughed as he remembered the fifty thousand credits that were going to be split between him, Gerod and Riley alone.

Unbeknownst to Jack, Farris and Sieves, their crew wasn't retuning stolen merchandise to the Counsel, which acted as the universal government, at all; they were raiding legitimate shipping vessels and capturing innocent crew members who they mistook as smugglers…and Davis was pawning off the merchandise to smugglers on the planets they docked on. He couldn't help but laugh as he thought of how many people Jack had killed under the conviction that they were unruly criminals instead of scared passengers. She was so naïve, so trusting.

Thinking of Jack sent a shiver of anticipation up his spine. Exchanges always left him high-strung, pumped up…he knew exactly who he could work that tension out on, and he couldn't wait to return to the ship, where she's probably sleeping soundly …naked in my bed, her cut of the "bounty" should make her especially…compliant.As the stirring in his groin intensified, Davis shifted concentration back to maintaining control of the hoverjet, almost home.


(A/N: Due to my disgustingly obsessive nature and my committment to this story I have totally ignored my coursework for about oh, lets see...the past two

weeks or so. Considering midterms are rapidly approaching...I may actually have to attempt attending a lecture or two (sighs )...therefore...there will

probably be no updates for at least three weeks! As much as it sucks, I have to forbid myself from posting because somehow I don't think my parents will be

too thrilled if I flunked out of college b/c I couldn't stop writing about some fictional charaters. Hehe... I can just imagine my dad's reaction to my

pleading/ whining ..."But Dad...it's RIDDICK!". Pray for me...I might not make it LOL.)