The Things That Happen

Author's Note: A fifth chapter. Not much to say about it...just like the fourth. Read, review, and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing...wow, that sounds so sad...0.0

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Riddick woke the instant Kyra opened the main door. He’s listened to her move around the ship and heard her deal with the cargo delivery. Now he could smell her – the scent of apples seemed to invade everything. She was probably still down in the cargo hold, Riddick figured. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke confirmed the assumption.
Sighing, Riddick rolled off the bunk and padded out to check the scans on the bridge. Green lights lit up the various com panels and he grinned. They would be off the ground with first light tomorrow. Giving a lazy stretch, he moved to the ladder and descended into the cargo hold.

Kyra was sitting on the ramp, watching the smoke from her cigarette curl into the still air. “You know what I missed most?” she asked, not turning around. Riddick didn’t say anything as he walked toward her. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she continued. “I missed these.” Kyra held up the cigarette. Sitting down next to her, Riddick stayed silent. He took a cigarette from the pack when she offered, holding it, un-lit, in the corner of his mouth. They say quietly for a while, staring out at the dim spaceport.

“We should probably head out soon,” Riddick said finally, pulling his cigarette from between his lips.

“Back to Imam’s?” Kyra asked, flicking some ash from the end of hers. He nodded. She closed her eyes as she took another drag. Exhaling, she spoke. “I don’t want to go back there.” Riddick cocked an eyebrow and glanced sideways at her. “Can’t we spend the night here?” she asked after a moment. He didn’t say anything. Kyra waited, but when it was obvious he wasn’t going to reply, she stood. Taking a last drag, she flicked the filter out onto the pavement.

She turned and walked back up the cargo ramp, toward the ladder. Her foot was on the first rung when Riddick spoke.

“Yeah. We can do that.” Kyra paused, glancing back at him. He had lit his cigarette and she could see a curl of smoke rising in the air. Smiling, she shook her head and climbed up to the bridge.

Riddick listened to her go, smoking silently. He heard her moving around on the bridge and in the cabin. As he crushed out the filter and closed the cargo hatch, he realized that he didn’t mind the little sounds she made or the way her smell seemed to fill every crack and pore of the ship. Sighing, he climbed the ladder and checked the bridge. Kyra had taken care of supplying water and fuel while she had been out, so the ship was finally fully loaded. He shut down the peripheral systems for the night, leaving only the main com for anything they might need between now and tomorrow morning. The lights were all out, so Riddick moved down the corridor toward the cabin.

The door was cracked. He could see Kyra sleeping uneasily on the floor. Pushing into the room, Riddick frowned. She had pulled fresh blankets out of the new supply to put on the bed, and had curled up with the old sheets on the floor. Why was she on the floorin the first place? Why not the bunk? Then he remembered her worry over the single bed. Sighing, he bent and cautiously lifted Kyra in his arms. The blankets wrapped easily around her slight body, transforming into a small, warm cocoon. He set her gently on the bed and carefully tucked her in. She moaned sleepily, shifting to a more comfortable position, but didn’t wake. On impulse, Riddick brushed some stray strands of hair off Kyra’s forehead; her lips curled in a small smile at his touch. Mimicking the expression, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and stepped away.

There was a small stack of blankets near the door. Grabbing a few, Riddick stretched out on the floor and closed his eyes. His mind drifted and he relaxed his tense muscles. He could hear the sounds of the old ship settling around them as they slept. He listened to Kyra’s deep, even breathing. The noises comforted him with their familiarity. Soon, he was dozing lightly.

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Kyra yawned and stretched lazily, listening to the sounds of the ship around her. She had tangled her self in the blankets sometime during the night; in fact, she had somehow managed to get onto the bunk in her sleep. Didn’t I fall asleep on the floor? Kyra wondered as she unwound the sheets from her legs. Cracking her back, she rolled off the bed and almost stepped on Riddick. Stifling a small squeak, she carefully stepped over him and crept out of the room. That explains how I got from the floor to the bunk,anyway.
Glancing toward the bathroom, she stopped. After a moment, she continued down the hall, to the second door on the right. Pushing it open, she winced as one of the hinges squeaked. Inside, she didn’t bother turning on the lights; she moved over to a covered com panel set into the far wall and pried the door open. It was controls for the room’s sound system. Nodding in appreciation, Kyra checked the selection of music loaded onto the drive and picked out a few songs to run in a loop as she worked out. Turning the volume down low, she crossed to the center of the room.

Her stretching routine was simple. She’d dug up an old ballet manual somewhere in her travels, and she had committed the workouts to memory. Now, as she reached over to grab her right toe, she mentally thumbed through her usual sequence. God, it felt so good to work the stiffness out of her muscles. Giving herself one last pull, she switched to her left leg, gripping her foot and listening to the heavy bass beat of the music. Unconsciously, she started counting along. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Kyra stretched to the middle, then rolled through her center splits with an audible groan. Once she was on her stomach, she loosened her hip muscles and rolled to a standing position.

The sound system switched tracks; soft techno-pop now floated out of the well-concealed speakers. Kyra rolled her head from side to side, then did a few combinations she remembered. When she finished, dropping into her left splits with a sigh, her body was covered with a light sheen of sweat. Standing up, she crossed to the com panel and shut off the music just as the door opened. Kyra started, turning quickly and dropping into a fighting crouch. It was only Riddick. Giving a shaky sigh, she relaxed and rose out of her stance. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.

“You didn’t,” he lied. Riddick had known the moment Kyra woke up – that subtle change in her breathing clued him in. He had given in to the impulse to check on her while he was on his way to the bathroom. “You doin okay?” he asked. Kyra smiled slightly and nodded.

“Fine.” She started toward the door, then paused. “You want the shower first?” Riddick shook his head no. Kyra raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than a shower and a cigarette, in that order.

Riddick watched Kyra go, unconsciously checking her out. She had grown up, all right. Her loose-limbed stroll was as sexy as it was dangerous, and she obviously knew how to use her body to her advantage. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Riddick moved down the corridor to the galley. Kyra had stocked it well, with fresh perishables in the cooling unit and canned stuff in the cabinets. After rummaging around for a few minutes, he found everything he would need to make a decent breakfast. He wondered idly whether Kyra even liked pancakes as he began mixing the batter in a big metal bowl. He heard the water rush through the pipes as the shower started and grinned. Images of a warm, wet, and naked Kyra floated into his mind. Riddick hardened instantly. Thirteen-year-old in goggles, he thought desperately. He couldn’t look at her like that. It just wasn’t right.

Sighing, Riddick set down the mixing bowl and put a skillet on the stove plate. He pushed the button to start the heat and dropped a tiny bit of butter onto the heating surface so that the pancakes wouldn’t stick. When everything was ready, Riddick poured batter onto the pan in four medium-sized circles.

He was just scooping the second set of finished pancakes off the skillet when Kyra strode into the galley, twisting her hair back from her face and securing it with a pencil-thin, sheathed dagger. “Smells good,” she said, smiling in Riddick’s direction. She pulled a pack of cigarettes out the back pocket of her pants and shook one out. Sticking it in her mouth, she offered the pack to Riddick, who shook his head.

“No thanks.”

Kyra watched as he poured the last of the batter onto the skillet. Pushing the pack back into her pocket, she moved to the table and slid onto one of the hard benches. The lights in the galley were off – Riddick didn’t need them – and Kyra hadn’t bothered to turn them on. She didn’t need them either, for the most part. Pulling a matchbook out of another pocket, she struck a match on the edge of the table. The bright flare of the sulfur igniting made Kyra wince as she brought it to the tip of her cigarette. Taking a couple shallow drags to get it lit, she shook out the match and tossed it in the sink.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Kyra asked finally.

“We’re gettin outta here.” There was a muted click as Riddick turned off the heat on the stove plate. Taking some plates out of a cabinet, he brought the stack of pancakes to the table and set them down. “I hope you’re hungry,” he said. Kyra was so fixated on her first taste of real food in over a year that she didn’t see the softening in Riddick’s eyes as he watched her.

“Thanks, man. They look delicious.” She even laughed out loud when her stomach growled audibly.

“Eat up, kid.”

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Riddick looked up from the com panel at the creak of the co-pilot’s seat. Kyra sprawled herself in the chair. “Everything’s secured. We leavin soon?” she asked. Riddick grunted and turned back to the com screen. Kyra raised an eyebrow and sat back. Her body began to relax as she watched his fingers fly over the panel. All morning, Kyra had been double-checking the loaded cargo, making sure it was ready for flight. Now, watching Riddick running the start-up programs for take-off, she started to get excited. He was actually taking her with him…he wasn’t going to leave her here on Helion Prime – like the last time.
Smiling slightly, Kyra pushed herself out of the chair. Watching Riddick for just a second longer, she turned and slipped down the hall to the single cabin. There, she pulled her bag out from the cabinet against the wall and started digging through her clothes. Finally, she just dumped the contents out on the floor and began sifting through the haphazard pile of shirts and pants. When she found what she was looking for – a small, battered paperback book – she glanced around at the mess she had made.

Riddick cleared his throat. Kyra had been so busy digging that she hadn’t even noticed him in the doorway. Now, he could see the embarrassment creeping into her eyes and coloring her cheeks. Raising an eyebrow, he glanced around the room. “Ready?” he rumbled.

“Yeah,” she replied, madly trying to scoop her things back into her carry all. Not taking his eyes off her, Riddick bent to help, reaching toward a small wooden box just as she turned toward it. “No,” she cried, trying to get to the box before he did. Looking down, Riddick saw the wooden lid thrown back; the box was surrounded by newspaper clippings…and a very familiar pair of goggles.

“What the-?”

“It’s nothing.” Blushing, Kyra dumped the goggles into the box. She scooped up the articles she had cut out and piled them in as well. Snapping the lid shut, she closed the little brass latch and fastened the tiny pin to keep it in place. Riddick raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. He had seen the titles of some of those clippings. Had she reallykept all that? He wanted to ask, but didn’t.

Instead, he asked, “You ready to go, kid?” Pushing himself up, he adjusted his goggles and waited. Kyra wouldn’t look at him as she nodded.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

“Get your bag put away and strap yourself in. I’ll get clearance for take-off.” Turning on his heel, Riddick strode out of the cabin and back to the bridge. Shaking his head, he sat in the captain’s chair and punched up the control tower. He typed in his request and waited while the tower cleared him.

Kyra was mortified. She couldn’t believe that she had been that careless. Her things had been all over the floor – and the box. That stupid box. She should have left it in Crematoria. Sighing, she shoved the last of her things back into her bag and stood. She tossed the carry all back into the cabinet and locked the doors. Then she just sat on the cabin’s single bunk. She couldn’t face Riddick, knowing that he had seen her weakness. She heard the com panel beep, signaling a message had been received – probably their clearance for take-off.

“Kyra,” Riddick called. “Get strapped in. We’re cleared.” He wondered idly if she was still embarrassed. She’d looked like she wanted to sink into the floor when he’d spotted those silly goggles. He’d actually thought it was quite cute.

Cute? When did I start using word like “cute”? Shaking his head, Riddick caught a whiff of apples as Kyra slid into the chair next to him. He flipped a couple switches as she strapped herself into the safety harness, and instantly felt the ship respond. Riddick heard the whir of machinery and felt a slight jolt as the ship rose off the docking platform.

They slid smoothly out of the spaceport; the ship drove like a dream. Riddick felt himself start to grin as he punched some buttons that pushed the flaps down and brought the nose up.“Here we go,” he muttered, flipping the final switch that started the engines. The strong push of acceleration shoved them both back into their seats. Kyra let out a little giggle – her excitement bubbling over as the ship shot into the sky.

Here we go, she agreed silently.