False Dawn

Jack woke, a small sound reaching through the layers of sleep and forcing her to consciousness. She didn't move, didn't bat an eyelash, and carefully forced her breathing to stay slow and even, though she couldn't keep her heart from nearly doubling its speed.

She heard no further sound and wondered if she was just being paranoid. She was on board the Argentine, so deep in space that it would take days to get anywhere worth going, and she was being startled awake by bumps in the night. But even with the berating of her inner dialog she remained still, scenting for anything different, listening for movement. Nothing.

Slowly she let her lashes lift, just enough so that she could see. Not that she could see anything. There was no light in the room, not even an alarm clock or power light on anything. She was lying on her side facing away from the wall and she could just barely see the hint of light coming through the tiny crack at the bottom of the door. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

Then she saw it, or rather him. Two tiny points of silver glowed at her from near the door at the other side of the room. She watched the two dots of light disappear for a heartbeat as he blinked and suddenly her heart wasn't racing from fear, but anticipation. What was he doing here?

His voice sounded out, a soft growl of words, "I miss the nightmares. I hated hearing you scream, but I loved having an excuse to come into your room."

He knew she was awake, so much for trying to be sneaky. She adjusted her pillow and opened her eyes to look up at him, or at least where he was. "Riddick, you don't need an excuse to come into my room," she whispered.

"No?"

She smiled a bit. So like Riddick. He'd rather have her spell out what she thought he was thinking rather than tell her himself. How could he not see how vulnerable that made him seem?

For the past couple weeks he'd been acting strangely around her. Their daily spars were cut short or just skipped altogether, with him giving some flimsy excuse about needing to get something else done. He wasn't normally a talkative person, but it had become almost painfully obvious that he was speaking to her less and less.

He'd become surly. When she'd attempted to draw him into conversations with her he would snap at her, or just up and walk out. On a tiny ship with only the two of them she could understand his irritability, but after so many weeks it had started to get on her nerves, and then she was the one avoiding him.

And now here he was standing in her room in the middle of the night talking about dreams that she'd been relieved to get rid of months ago. Why was he acting so damn strange? Was there something he wasn't telling her? Or was he just a guy and baffling her with his mood swings just for the hell of it?

She scooted back from the edge of the bed, giving enough room for him to sit, and then patted the spot.

"I can't." His voice nearly broke on the words.

Jack frowned up at him at his strange tone. If she didn't know Riddick as the master of controlling himself she'd think he was upset. And since she didn't know what to say she didn't say anything.

Silence reigned for several minutes. She hated that he could see her perfectly and she couldn't see him at all. The silver pools of his eyes were emotionless, never telling a damn thing about him other than his presence. She wondered if that was half the reason he'd had it done. She couldn't imagine Riddick without his eyes being so. They were beautiful and scary and reassuring all at the same time. She couldn't see him as anything different.

The flashing dots that she'd been watching disappeared and she practically had to jerk herself from her thoughts to realize that he was leaving. The door opened, dim light spilling in from the main room. His profile filled the door for one moment and then he was pulling it closed. She watched the door shut without a sound and gasped with the sudden rush of anger.

What the fuck!? She was eighteen years old! And had known about the birds and the bees since she was about eight years old. No, she wasn't technically a virgin, but rapes weren't supposed to count, were they? That she found anyone attractive after being raped four times in the past five years seemed fucking amazing to her at all.

So what did she have to do? Send a fucking written invitation? Throw herself at him? She'd been waiting for him to make a pass, a move, a fucking accidental grope for years! Having him in her room, having the tension between them made so blatantly obvious, and then watching him turn tail and flee sent her into immediate action.

The door slamming back against the wall had him turning to face her with an annoying casualness.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Riddick?" she yelled at him, getting closer as she spoke.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Don't be sorry, just don't fuckin' do it!" she yelled.

He just stood there and looked at her, that infuriating deadpan neatly in place.

"Why?"

He frowned a bit and she felt slightly better for getting some sort of reaction out of him. "What?"

"Why are you sorry? Why are you coming into my room? Why the hell anything! I don't care! Just fucking talk to me. I'm tired of you grumping around all the time." When he just continued to stare at her she lowered her voice to ask, "What did I do?"

That expressionless mask was back in place. He was just watching her, making her feel like she was a show to entertain him. 'What will the dancing monkey do next?' she asked herself with a bit of a smirk.

She sighed and dropped her eyes from him. "Riddick, you don't need an excuse to come to my room ever. Just come. Heaven fuckin' forbid you actually make a friend. Would that be so much of a catastrophe?"

"I don't want to hurt you, Jack."

Frowning she looked up at him. "You've never hurt me. I owe you my life several times over. You are the only somebody I've got."

She saw his jaw moving a bit, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his lip. He did it all the time when he was distracted and thinking. "Jack, you deserve so much more than this. You need to be living happily somewhere and not running for your life."

She smiled a bit, almost sadly. "Okay, then drop me off."

His head snapped up and just stared at her, saying all that he didn't have to. She wasn't safe without him.

"So you don't want me to leave. You don't want me to stay. What about what I want?" she asked softly, knowing that she wouldn't be able to take this back once it was said. Despite what she believed she was still ignorant of all this, and terribly nervous. What if he laughed at her? Called her a little kid and turned away?

"What do you want, Jack?"

Was it seriously warm in here? She felt like her chest was tightening, making it difficult to breath. Those beautiful damn eyes seemed to be piercing her, searching out everything that she was. Her mouth wouldn't work when she first tried it and she had to clench her fists, letting her nails dig in. She dropped her gaze, unable to witness what his reaction would be.

"I want you."

Silence. Blessed, horrible silence.

Jack clenched her eyes closed and prepared to flee. How humiliating. How was it supposed to be done? She had no idea. Her experience with the opposite sex had been limited and brutal.

His warm fingers grazed along her cheek, causing the craziest shivers she'd ever felt to run through her and then back up. He slid his hand into her hair and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her forward and she went willingly. At least she could hide her blushing face against his wide chest.

"Baby, don't you see that we don't belong together. I'm too old. I'm a wanted criminal. I could never give you a regular life, no matter how much I might want to." He was whispering into her hair, his hand still holding her neck.

"What's regular, Riddick? I don't know. I've never had it. I like being with you. I'm safe with you. I want to be here. And age is a stupid argument, don't use that one." She held onto his sides, just thrilled at being in his arms again, no matter how briefly.

"Jack, you don't—" he stopped as she raised her face to look at him making him pull his back to keep from making contact.

She took a deep breath, feeling her heart thump crazily inside her chest. She swallowed before she was able to whisper, "Riddick, I want this, I want you. But, please, leave me some pride."

His eyes just continued to hold hers and for that one moment she had no idea what was about to happen. That rigid stare remained locked on his face, making her think that she had finally pushed him too far and he was pissed. Then his head dropped, their gaze holding until the last moment just before his lips touched hers. For the length of one heartbeat she continued to look at him. It was the most unguarded she'd ever seen him and in that moment she knew she loved him. Not just for being there for her and protecting her, but for trusting her enough to close his eyes.

His lips were warm and firm on hers, seeming to coax her to open to him, to give in. There was nothing else she could do, or wanted to do. Her breath was caught painfully in her chest somewhere; her thoughts were whirling, not making any sense. Only the sensations were getting through. His hot hard hands gently holding her, and then the spear of heat as she opened her mouth to suck in air and received him as well.

She was filled by his taste and scent and heat, making her knees feel weak, and a soft moan escaped her as she leaned into him, wanting to collapse against him. His arms tightened around her. Had he known how close she was to falling? His body bowed to meet her shorter height and he held her into the curve of his body. She gasped when the hard length of his erection pressed uncomfortably into her lower stomach. He stilled immediately and she regretted her involuntary response. But she hadn't expected, she hadn't known. Pathetically, she knew the mechanics, she knew how it worked, but this intimacy was new to her, and even frightening.

She opened her eyes to find him looking down at her. That closed expression gave no hint of what he was thinking and she feared her moment of uncertainty had caused him to have second thoughts. Finally the low growl of his voice washed over her, strumming strings she didn't know she had. "Don't ask me to stop."

Jack grinned, unable to contain the rush of relief. "No." She pulled her arms free and then wrapped them around his neck, hugging him to her, clinging to him as he lifted her. His large hands were gripping her hips as he carried her back into her room.