Close Quarters

Author: Ali email: aaolianysedai@yahoo.com
Title: Close Quarters (working title)
Rating: NC-17 now for language, later for graphic sex.
Fandom: PB
Disclaimer: Don't own Riddick or anything from PB. Anyone/thing else is mine.
Summary: It's getting crowded. Something's gotta give. But what?
Pairing: Riddick/OFC
Archive: With permission
Feedback: Please. 1st riddick fic. Need to know if I should bother to continue.

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Chapter One

Jack felt the weight shift on the mattress, signaling Riddick's exit from the bed and her hand immediately went under her pillow, closing around the grip of the pistol that was always kept there. Removing the gun Jack sat up, took the safety off and pulled back on the slide, chambering a bullet. She sat perfectly still waiting for her eyes to adjust to the complete darkness of the bedroom.

"Riddick? Is everything ok?" she called softly into the silent darkness. When there was no response Jack rose from the bed and padded to the door. She moved through the room with a confidence born from the memorization of every single piece of furniture on the ship. That had been one of the first things Riddick had insisted that they do when they bought the ship: memorize the entire layout. It allowed them to bring the ship to full-dark at night, giving Riddick a distinct advantage over any would-be intruders when they found themselves planet bound. That situation didn't happen very often, but it was the case at the moment, so caution would have to prevail.

Jack paused at the doorway, going completely still and holding her breath. Listening. Nothing out of the ordinary. Placing her fingers on the cold metal frame she peered around its edge, looking both ways down the corridor. No one was there. Not even Riddick.

Damn. Where'd he go? she thought to herself. With a small shrug Jack headed toward the galley located at the center of the ship, wondering what could have made Riddick get up. He never left her alone while she slept. Not a single night since they'd escaped from that godforsaken planet had he left her alone with her nightmares. Why now?

Clutching the gun more firmly Jack called out again, "Riddick? Where are you?"

Riddick heard the uncertainty that was rapidly turning to fear in her voice and it made his heart clench. After spending the last six years protecting the kid, her safety and security were his primary concern.

But who's gonna keep her safe from you, asshole? the thought raged in his head. Sighing, he spoke in his low, growl-like voice, "I'm here Jack. Didn't mean to scare you, kid. I just couldn't sleep."

Jack heard him and could immediately tell that his voice was coming from the small living area just behind the cockpit. Heading that way, she disengaged the round in the gun and flicked the safety back on. Riddick heard the metallic sound of the gun being disarmed and thought 'That's my girl' with pride at her practical use of the security drill he taught her so long ago.

Coming to the edge of the living area Jack paused and said "Lights ten percent ".

The ship's lighting system responded immediately and Jack saw that Riddick sat in one of the two conform-lounge chairs in the room, clad only in his workout pants. The sight of his bare torso made her heart race, as usual. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Her hero, her savior, her family. She wanted him to be more.

Good luck Jackie-girl, he don't look at you that way and he never will... she heard her inner voice mock her and pushed it down. She walked quietly over to the side of the chair and reached out to stroke her hand over his stubbly scalp, just as she had done a million times. She felt him tense slightly at her touch and immediately withdrew her hand. That had never happened before.

"What's up Riddick? Was I hogging the sheets again?" she asked with a soft smile. For a moment he said nothing, and the tension became a palpable mist hanging in the air between them. She heard him sigh and then he looked up at her, shining silver eyes meeting her green ones.

Jack couldn't see it for the shadows cast on his face, but Riddick was taking in the sight of her. All of her, from the sheen of her now grown out hair to the slender pale white of her feet. His mercurial gaze traveled down her body slowly, taking in the tight undershirt that was knotted at her waist and let him see clearly that her nipples were reacting to the cooler air in the living room. She was also wearing the men's underpants she favored, though nothing about them looked masculine wrapped around her delicious hips and tight ass. Her legs were long and nicely muscular. The workout regimen they both followed religiously made certain of that.

This was the same outfit she'd worn to bed every single night since they'd escaped aboard the emergency skiff. But that was six years ago. In that time she had grown from a boyish adolescent to a beautiful woman with all the curves and magnetic appeal that entailed. The changes had not been lost on Riddick.

You're a fucking perv and she'd puke if she knew what you were thinking he told himself for the millionth time in a week.

"Nah kid, you're cool. I was thinking about our next job and just couldn't shut off my head. You know how it is, " he said casually.

When he finished speaking his tongue slid out, licking the side of his mouth. It was Big Evil's only tell. The one thing that let Jack know that there was something wrong. Something he wasn't talking about. It pissed her off. They had no secrets. He knew absolutely everything there was to know about Jacqueline Kowalczyk, aka Jack B. Badd. And she knew that something had been bothering him for months, but every time she asked him about it he gave her the same lame-assed, non-committal answers. The more she thought about it, the madder she got.

"Fucking tell me what's up, Riddick," she spat at him, the annoyance evident in both her voice and stance. Riddick couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped him at both her statement and her posture. Jack began to tap her foot impatiently, glaring down at him with her most ferocious frown. She was so beautiful that for a moment Riddick nearly gave in to the sudden urge to pull her down into his lap and kiss her like a starving man at last given bread.

"Nothing kid. I'm fine," he said and got up from the lounger, crossing to the corridor that led back to their cabin. She stood there staring daggers at his retreating back. She was still standing there when he came back out to the main part of the ship, now fully dressed. He wore his usual. Black tank shirt, black cargo pants and heavy black boots. She saw that his goggles rested atop his head and knew that he was going out, but didn't understand why.

"I gotta go do some stuff, kid. Be back in a few hours. Stay here and keep her locked up tight," he said as he palmed the panel that opened the hatch to the boarding ramp. Jack watched as he walked to the bottom and heard the loud slap of his hand on the panel at the other end of the ramp.

She turned away when she thought the hatch had fully sealed and yelled, "COWARD!" at the top of her lungs. Riddick flinched as he heard her insult echo out through the narrow opening that was left by the not-quite closed hatch.

Not a coward Jack. Just a fucking perv... He forced the thoughts from his head as he strode purposefully away from the ship.

Maybe she was right. Maybe he was a coward on some level. Some things about their relationship scared the fuck out of him. For one thing she knew him too well. That truly frightened him. No one had ever known him the way Jack did. She could finish his sentences most of the time. She knew what he needed, usually before he even realized he needed it. He possessed the same strange clairvoyance regarding her. There was a shorthand to their existence that was an almost eerie demonstration of two people being in complete harmony. He'd never witnessed anything like it before. In fact, if he didn't live with her, he'd call anyone who claimed that that kind of closeness existed a fucking moron.

Carolyn might have been the first person to look past the 'monster' and see the soul, but Jack hadn't only seen his soul, she owned it and it chilled him to his core. Richard B. Riddick--escaped convict, murderer--was totally and completely terrified of a girl that stood no higher than his chest and weighed less than he bench pressed during a light workout. She was tiny and yet she had it within her power to render the big man as helpless as some tongue-tied school kid just entering puberty.

Then there was the Beast. The entity that resided inside Riddick. The one that was completely separate from Riddick's newly reclaimed soul. The Beast had no soul and was equally scornful of those who possessed one or mourned the loss of one.

Amazingly, Jack loved that part of him too.

When he first realized that about her, he didn't know how to process it. He initially thought it was a ploy, because he was unable to trust her at that time, but as the years passed he learned that there was absolutely nothing false about Jack. She was who she was, and loved him for who and what he was. Complete and utter unconditional love. No judgment, no hesitancy to put her life completely in his hands--despite knowing for a fact that he'd taken quite a few lives in the past...and enjoyed it.

She had only seen that side of him once. Only her complete love and trust had kept the Beast from adding her to its list of victims. She was scared--the girl was not stupid--but she was brave and courageous as hell. She simply looked into his eyes, calling his name and stroking her soft fingers down his stubbly cheek. She didn't even flinch as she felt the shiv at her side. She just kept talking to him and soothing him and telling him that no matter what, she would always love him.

The Beast stumbled back from her, unable to comprehend what was happening. It was so disturbing to that dark pulsating being that it retreated, allowing Riddick to regain control of himself. That love was what kept the Beast from ever coming after her again.

The Beast loved Jack too. Yes, it lusted after her. Riddick was fairly certain that it was the Beast who first noticed the subtle changes taking place in Jack's anatomy. The lowering and softening of her voice. It was now a husky, silky sound that drove him to distraction. The difference in the lines of her frame as she ripened into womanhood. The texture and sheen of the lustrous mane of golden brown hair that now cascaded well past her shoulders and smelled like fresh rainwater even after months of showering with recycled water during deep space travel. The sparkle in her emerald green eyes when she was happy. The same eyes, like cold jade, when anger possessed her.

All of it added up to the woman that Riddick knew he would go to his grave loving more than life itself. The one woman in the universe he could never have.

"You think this shit's hilarious, dontcha fucker?" he asked aloud, looking up at the sky. The few people out at that hour ignored him, dismissing him as another drunk or hype talking to himself. Riddick knew he was in direct communication with God. The bastard had made a hobby out of fucking up Riddick's life, so they talked a lot over the years. Well, Riddick talked. God, as usual, had no response. No remorse. Nothing.

****

Jack paced the corridor in front of the hatch through which Riddick had made his exit. She walked that same path for at least half an hour after his departure. Her anger steadily boiled into a rage she knew would prevent her from sleeping. She headed down to their make-shift gym/dojo and began to punch the heavy bag. She didn't intend to start a real workout when she went down there, but once she began, she found herself lost in the process.

The rhythm of her punches and the feel of the bag's resistance to her strength allowed her to imagine Riddick standing there. Of course, Riddick wouldn't just stand there and let her hit him that way, but for the time being she could dwell in the delusion and work off some of her fury. She started without the precision that was always present in Riddick's workouts, but soon enough her body fell into the routine of her favorite program.

Punch-punch-kick. Punch-punch-kick. Punch-punch-kick. On and on it went, the pattern not stopping for over an hour. Suddenly Jack realized that she was soaked in sweat from head to toe, breathing hard and that her hands and feet ached from the punishment she'd just put them through.

Probably shoulda taped them before starting that she thought to herself as she looked down at her red knuckles. They had already started to swell.

Knowing that Riddick wouldn't return for hours she decided to let herself indulge in a bit of exhibitionism. After returning to the main level of the ship, Jack began stripping off her sweat soaked clothes on the way to the shower. In doing so, she felt oddly liberated. Riddick always insisted on at least a small amount of modesty between them, but lately his insistence had begun to border on prudish. If she showed any skin at all, at least in reference to showering or using the facilities, he would give her a lecture like she was a five year-old idiot and storm off to their room.

Jack couldn't help the bubbles of laughter that came forth from her as she ran naked into the bathroom and turned on the tap for the shower. The only extravagance she'd begged him for was the bathroom, and she nagged him mercilessly until he gave in and permitted her this minor luxury. Although there was no tub for soaking, the shower stall was over-sized and equipped with ten showerheads, at several different heights, that could be aimed in many directions.

Jack set the water temperature to just below scalding and stepped under the flow, emitting a gasp of pleasure as the needles of thermo-heated water rained onto her skin. The heat was relaxing and enticing at the same time and Jack found herself feeling a little aroused. Reaching up, she tentatively touched her left nipple. It hardened in immediate response to her touch and she couldn't help the moan that came from her mouth. Blushing, Jack lowered her hand and finished her shower quickly.

She tried desperately not to dwell on what was happening to her, where her feelings were turning. Riddick thought of her as a child and always would. She was relegated to 'kid sister' and she needed to accept it.

****

Riddick stalked through the streets with a determined stride that made the people walking by shift over, giving him a very wide berth. The intense scowl he wore had nothing to do with any of the strangers, but it was enough to ensure that he was left even more alone than usual, which suited him perfectly.

Fuck! When had things spun so utterly out of control? Riddick could distinctly remember a time, not too long ago, when everything was perfect. He had his own ship, enough money to go anywhere he wanted. And Jack. The one person in the universe he trusted completely. He knew, had known since their time on that deadly planet, that they were two halves of the same coin. Yin and Yang: checks and balances.

Nothing had balance now.

With a snarl he turned into the entrance of one of the seedy establishments that always existed in the space-port district of a city. Stopping just inside the door, Riddick swept his gaze over the dimly lit room.

Typical. Long, nondescript bar running along the left side of the room. Barstools with leather seats and no backs. Bottles of alcohol lining two shelves behind the bar and a length of mirror hanging behind them.

There was a door that led to the restrooms at the far end of the building, and another that probably led to the storeroom. There was the possibility of an office back there and there would definitely be another exterior door there as well.

There were about ten tables in the room, each far enough from the next to offer its occupants the solace they always sought. The clientele was the usual too. A mix of port workers and drunks, insomniacs and head cases.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked impassively as Riddick stepped up to the end of the bar. His tone spoke of someone tired of being who and where he was.

"Beer," Riddick answered. The bartender returned a moment later with a cold bottle of amber liquid and set it on the bar in front of Riddick.

Riddick laid more than enough in local currency on the bar and let his eyes roam over the crowd, this time examining each person in the room closely. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he could feel his skin prickle with the need to find it.

He spotted her sitting in a corner, alone. Her manner said, "Stay the fuck away from me," so he was immediately drawn to her. He paused for a moment to tell the bartender to send whatever she was drinking to her table, then made his way over to her.

She looked up at him with fierce eyes and his lips quirked into a wry grin as he regarded her.

"Well? What the fuck do you think you want, freak?" she asked in a voice laden with sarcasm and anger.

"A fuck'll do. For starters," he replied casually and took the chair opposite her. Her eyes glowed with ferocity at his audacity and her lips pulled back to expose her teeth. He wasn't deluded enough to even pretend it was a smile.

His goggle-covered eyes took her in. Perfect. Longish, wavy hair that was light in color. Slender frame, lean but well defined. Defiant tilt to her chin and fists that were clenched in anger at having her personal space intruded upon.

"In your dreams port trash. Get lost or I'll be forced to humiliate you here in front of all these fine people," she told him earnestly.

"You wouldn't want to try that, little one," he told her in his near-growl. "I just wanted to have a friendly talk and maybe see if we had some mutual needs that could be fulfilled."

The bartender brought her fresh drink over and sat it in front of her. He darted a quick glance from one to the other of them and chuckled under his breath as he walked away.

She raised an eyebrow at the drink and looked over at Riddick. He gave her a small, sexy smile as she picked up the glass. Eyes never leaving his, she threw the tequila back in one shot. He noted that she used neither salt or lime to cut the bitter taste. Balls. He liked that. Reminded him of... He forced the thought from his mind and once again focused on his current companion.

"I'm not gonna sit here alone and get shit-faced. If you wanna stay here you will do shots with me," she told Riddick.

She looked across the table at the odd man she was suddenly forced to share time with. He was unusual even for this place, but there was a strong charisma that emanated from him like radio waves, and her body responded as though it were the antenna. She was acutely aware of his piercing stare, even through the black-out lenses that covered his eyes. She could almost feel his gaze like a caress. His presence was intriguing, and she really didn’t have anything better to do. Yet.

She looked over at the bartender and held up two fingers. He gave a short nod, letting her know he understood and a moment later the man appeared with two more shots of the golden liquid.

Setting the glasses down between the two of them, the bartender backed away slowly as if he expected the situation to combust at any moment. He retreated to the relative safety behind the bar. If the electric animosity flowing between the two sets of eyes was any indication, his fear of a conflagration between these two powerful beings was not too far off the mark...

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Edited to include some revisions and the things my beta--Rae--suggested.

~Ali