Rivers Run Deep

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters related to Predator El, other unrelated human characters, and the character names of the predators Imade up, the concept of predator do not belong to me.



Authors Notes: This is a work of Fan fiction. please read on and enjoy.



WARNING: The following work of fiction contains, extream violence, course language (at times), sexual sudgestions, nudety, and explicit sex. If you are
under 18 (or whatever age is appropriate for your location), HIT YOUR
BACK BROWSER BUTTON NOW. If you find explicit sex offensive, please
don't offend yourself by reading further.



Author: Charlotte (jemstone5)

Email: jemstone5

Feedback: Please, yes lots.

Forward to others: would be flattered if you did.

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Rivers Run Deep



Chapter 18



How could he know? How could Tyler possibly know about their guest? Tyler was unconscious in the back seat, even when Ralph’s car was found the next day. How could he have known? He looked up at the sound of El laughing. It was a good sound, one he’d not heard her make in a while. Her whole demeanor had changed. She was no longer the over stressed, jumpy, agitated, angry young woman he’d brought home from the hospital. She seemed calmer, more relaxed, and her eyes were not so frightened as before. He looked to see what she was laughing at.


Tusk had a carrot, stuck on the end of his two lower tusks, and was trying to pull them out without using his hands. In one hand he held his bowl of soup, in the other he had Ralph’s huge glass measuring cup, full of what looked like apple juice. The counter was mostly covered in scraps that they were still cleaning up from making the soup, and dishes that were stacked to be put away from cleaning. Pour Tusk didn’t have any place to put his food, and it didn’t look like he was about to give it up to El to relieve the embarrassment with the carrot. The whole scene was hilarious, and he couldn’t help but chuckle himself.


El finally waved Tusk over to her, and had him lean over, so she could remove his embedded teeth. “You’re supposed to chew it,” she said, taking a carrot from her own bowl and biting it, the solid sound of it crunching in her teeth was loud enough for him to hear. He nodded and to her, and took the tuber from her fingers into his mouth. Though his inner mouth only had teeth around the outside, his inner mouth muscles were quite strong, but still, the tuber was slippery, and he couldn’t quite crush the little thing. Finally, disgusted, he just swallowed it. El laughed as he quickly downed the cup of juice to aid the vegetable’s passage, then returned to the far end of the kitchen to figure out how to eat.


“Who was there?” she asked of Ralph at last.


Ralph’s face went worried again. “That was Bastian,” he sighed, going over and offering Tusk to hold his drink for him. The big guy nodded, and gave him the cup, taking up his makeshift spoon once more, and dove into the delicious food in his bowl.


“What did he want this time?”


“He had Officer Tyler with him.”


“Tyler? Why was he with Bastian?” Then she brightened. “The file! Oh my god, I totally forgot. That file, that day, I got it from Tyler. I’ve got to get that back to him.”


“He got that long ago. But El, he got beat up pretty bad that night.”


“I know, Mr. Com told me,” she put her bowl down. “I’m going to jail, aren’t I?”


“I hope not,” Mr. Com stated, returning from the bathroom. “What was so funny anyway?”


“Sorry, had to see it to understand.” She took a carrot out of her bowl, and held it in her teeth, wiggling it back and forth to Tusk, before finally closing her mouth and chewing. Ver’On grunted at her, hoping she took it as a jest, which was how it was meant. “But no, Mr. Com. I would be going to jail. I assaulted a police officer. They don’t just let you go after something like that.”


“They must, you weren’t yourself,” Mr. Com stated.


“Bastion is poised to throw her in one of his cells. He’s been eyeing her all the time. I’m sorry El, I didn’t want to worry you.”


“Don’t worry about it. Even before, I’d kick his ass if he touched me, Sheriff or not.”


“Still. Tyler did say something rather odd though.”


“What was that?” Mr. Com asked, taking the glass that Ralph held as the old man changed places with him so he could grab some paper and a pen.


“Tyler said, and I’m thinking he knows about Tusk here,” Ralph began, locating the things he needed. “He said the only way you could avoid jail time is to be out of reach of the courts. He said it making sure that Bastion was out of earshot. The look on his face, leads me to believe that he saw you, and Tusk in the headlights of the car that night.”


“Yes, when we drove up, we found him and put him in the back seat. He passed out there. I totally forgot about him when Tusk brought us back here.”


“Hold on,” El sighed, putting her bowl aside, and looking to the huge alien, as he was eyeing the pot of soup for more. “Tusk?”


“We had to call him something,” Ralph stated, nodding to Mr. Com to refill Tusk’s bowl. “We couldn’t just keep calling him alien. We’re as alien to him, as he is to us. So it wasn’t polite. Besides, he’s got big outer teeth, kind of like tusks.”


“Ralph,” El said, putting her hand to his shoulder, “sometimes your logic amazes me.”


He laughed as he mussed her hair. Ver’on growled slightly in warning from the other end of the kitchen. “Whatever. Look. I have an idea. It’ll be totally off the wall, but I think it will work. You said that he understands the stick drawings?”


“Yeah. What, you gona offer him a job to sponsor his green card?”


“Don’t be silly, they wouldn’t let him pass the health codes. You need closed shoes to work here. He can’t wear them. His toe claws are too long.” As Ralph moved across the kitchen, El leaned over to look at Tusk’s feet. Toe claws too long? HELL YES! They stuck out and tapped on the floor in delight, as he was handed his bowl again. “El, I’m sorry. But he can’t stay…”


“Ralph, please! Don’t send him away, not yet!” Her plea was almost a screech as he began to draw on the paper.


“I’m sorry El, I have too,” and he met her frightened eyes from where he stood, “and I’m telling him to take you with him.” El just stared at him.


“Don’t even joke,” she warned.


“I’m not,” and he showed Tusk the male stick image he drew. Ver’On nodded. Ralph then drew a female figure, showed him, and pointed to El. Ver’On looked to El, then to Ralph and nodded. Ralph then drew a picture, though crewed, of a flying saucer, and showed him. Ver’On at once took greater interest in the drawing, and watched him draw it further. Ralph circled the two figures, then drew an arrow to the image of the ship. Ver’On looked at Ralph, and followed the direction of his pointing finger as he pointed to the sky. Ver’On looked at the paper, then to El. Her eyes, pleading with him not to leave her, were all he needed.


Ver’On shook his head. Yes.






It was a very old custom. When a warrior wanted to mate with a certain female, he often sought out the sire of the female, to request his permission. Most times the sire would say no, but most times, he would say yes. The custom had been less and less used over the centuries. Some of the honored Elders, and Grand Elders that remained both on the Colony ship, and the home world, expected the males to follow the old traditions when it came to their young progeny. But as the generations grew further from the elder class, the tradition was less and less observed.


Ver’On was the Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandson, to Elder Kire’Baa. He barley knew the sires before his, but when his father died at the claws of hard meats, Kire’Baa was there to raise him as his son. It was here that he learned the old ways, that many females though quaint. It was what won over Uni’s family, when her father, a common cook and not such a great warrior, agreed to let Ver’On take his daughter as a mate, so long as she agreed. Ver’On had asked him not to mention anything to Uni, he wanted to surprise her with her father’s decision should she agree to be his mate. Reluctantly the sire agreed, but watched the male carefully for several days.


His union with Uni was the happiest moments he’d ever spent, and he would always treasure them. Though she was gone, he found that each time he looked at the female of the blue planet, his heart and thoughts went back to Uni. Only this time, it didn’t hurt so much to think of her. So long as the female ooman was there to look at.


He’d already made up his mind of stealing her away some night when all were asleep. He knew she wouldn’t leave willingly with him, and the males here would probably try to stop him. As it turned out, here her guardian, the fat male, was giving him permission to take her away.
Ver’On stood, and handed the large male his bowl, before striding over to the female, to ease her restrained tears. He slid the back of his fingers over her left cheek, watching, and listening, as she breathed and her heart beat in a relieved rhythm.


She didn’t want to be apart from him either. He’d seen her searching her room frantically for him, as he returned from his ship on occasion, to ease his haggard breathing. There was medication he could take, so he could better process the awful ooman air, but it was getting sparse. If he didn’t leave soon, he would suffocate.


The mask that she’d damaged in their battle, turned out to be his only one. If he had ignored her eyes that night and killed her, he would have gladly stayed on the planet to die, suffocating in the polluted atmosphere. But as the medication began to run low, he sought of ways to ease his escape with her, so they could both live. He stretched his mandibles out slightly, a gentle growl from his throat. He would take her with him. He would return to his people, and show them the warrior that tamed his grieving heart.


As the large male drew a picture of a crescent moon, he understood that they would depart under cover of night, and the thought occurred to him.


Would his clan accept her?