Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to any of the recognizable characters within, only to my own original characters and plots. All others belong to their respective writers and companies.

A/N: Okay. Over the past 2 years since this was last updated, I’ve received a ton of reviews, PMs and emails wanting more of this story. I’ve even received a few not-so-nice demands. I sincerely apologize for leaving this where I did, and I realize that writing a story out in its entirety is the best way to do fic. But I didn’t, thusly, you have a half-completed story. To say I’ve been busy is an understatement – only more complicated by the fact that I have recently given birth to my first child. So understand that fic writing time has been curtailed. But excuses are merely that, and all I can say is sorry. I have plenty of authors that I love whose stores will never be finished, so I very much understand that it’s frustrating.

I’ll tell you guys now that I’m not at all happy with my previous chapters and rather appalled at how Mary Sue my OC is. So, expect a bit of a re-write of Dallas’ character. I’m rusty in this fandom, and really can’t remember where I was going with this chapter, so bear that in mind as you read this. Enjoy and THANK YOU to all who’ve continued to love this story over the hiatus and took time to tell me so!

Warning: Sexual situations in this. Probably rated R. You’ve been warned.

Chapter 13 “Want”

Dallas sat on the floor, clutching her chest as if trying to keep her erratically beating heart from flying out of her rib cage. She took a few steadying breaths, thinking that if there were too many more shocks to her fragile system that day, she’d keel over for sure. For his part, Nix seemed fairly startled by the intruder’s unorthodox entrance as well, but he recovered and set about cleaning up the glass shards from the floors.

The Elemental looked down on the woman on the floor. She seemed to study her for a moment, before gracing her with a smile. “Do not fear, child. I mean no harm. I have postponed speaking with you for too long.”

“Who are you?” Dallas wheezed. “What are you?!” She exchanged a bewildered look with Nix, hoping he might clarify why an old woman could just ‘appear’ out of thin air. As if the people in this universe weren’t screwed up enough already.

Nix placed the glass from Dallas’ drink on the food tray and looked up to Aereon. “Maybe you could have knocked?” At the older woman’s arch look, he rephrased, “It’s just that she’s had a really rough day. Not sure how much more she can take.”

Dallas couldn’t have agreed more, but Aereon was unfazed. “I do not come to burden the child any more than necessary. She is stronger than you give her credit for, boy.” She softened a bit and placed a hand on Nix’s shoulder. “Leave us. I wish to speak to Dallas alone.”

“Does he have to leave?” Dallas asked plaintively. The old woman seemed harmless, but looks, Dallas had learned, were more than deceiving around here. Nix’s presence was comforting – reminded her of her own time and place with his teenage mannerisms.

Aereon waved the young man out. Nix gave Dallas a “sorry, she’s the boss” shrug as he exited Riddick’s suite. Dallas picked herself off the floor and started to straighten her top before she realized she was still covered in blood and grime from the Adriel planet. She paused after pulling on her top to see her hands, smeared with blood and God knows what. Cringing, Dallas suddenly wanted to shed every piece of clothing and take a scalding shower for the next month or so.

When a hand bearing a wet cloth appeared in front of her, Dallas looked up to find the Elemental standing there, giving her an understanding look. “Here,” she said. “Use this to clean yourself. I shall send for Corin with a change of cloths in a moment.”

Dallas accepted the cloth and wiped her hands off. Then she carefully ran the cloth up and down her arms, wincing as she hit bruises and cuts that had been hidden beneath the filth. “Thank you,” she muttered.

“Why did you feel the need to stay on Adriel planet? Even after the Lord Marshal’s warnings?” Aereon asked. “Surely you sensed the danger.”

Dallas met her eyes for the first time. They were the color of a stormy sea, deep blue and filled with the knowledge of the ages. It was impossible to guess the Elemental’s age, if she even aged like humans do, and there was a quiet strength and civility about her. Not to be underestimated.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I just felt like we should stay. That maybe there was something going on there that we could help with.” She looked down, shame-faced. “I didn’t know it was going to be a mediaeval execution we were stumbling upon. I didn’t know it would put so many people in danger.”

“And yet, you managed to convince Riddick to stay.” Aereon clasped her hands in front of her, and tilted her head to the side quizzically. “Why do you think you have his ear? That he seems to listen to you?”

Frowning, Dallas watched the old woman’s body language. Why was this about Riddick? “What makes you think I have any influence over him? The man does what he likes, when he likes and to whomever he likes.”

Aereon gave her a wry smile. “True. But for as long as I’ve known him, he’s rarely acquiesced to anyone when he knows there is a better alternative than endangering his men. He is a true leader in that respect.”

Dallas eased down into the couch and crossed her arms. “Whatever ‘influence’,” she said with air quotes, “you think I have with that man, you’re sadly mistaken. I’m a prisoner here. Hell, I don’t even belong in this time line.” She looked away with a sigh, “Just want to go home, that’s all.” There was a soft whisper of air, and the Elemental woman appeared on the couch next to Dallas, causing the younger woman to jolt. “Stop doing that! Can’t you walk from place to place like normal people?”

Aereon looked down her nose at her, “Why should I? I am not normal people. Stop wallowing in your grief, child. You’re past is merely that - in the past. This is your present now.”

She was basically telling Dallas to ‘deal with it’, and the truth stung. Dallas was still reeling from that little gem when Aereon took her chin in her hand and tilted her gaze upward. She stared into Dallas’ eyes intently, and Dallas feared another soul gaze. She still wasn’t sure what the old woman was, so getting an IMAX theater view of what was in her head didn’t appeal at all. Aereon pursed her lips in concentrations, as though she were reading a news headline on the backs of Dallas’ eyes.

“Hmm,” she said. “Your fear is great. And you are lashed too tightly to your past – thoughts of home plague you, child. You must put that aside if you are going to survive here.” She squinted and Dallas felt like a bug under a microscope. “You have a good heart, though. Good. He’ll need that.”

“Who’ll need that?”

“And you have a great capacity for understanding. Your compassion will be vital to the plan.” Aereon sat back and released her chin. She gave a nod of approval. “Yes. I believe you are strong enough. I only wish I knew for certain if you are…” She trailed off, staring at Dallas in thought. She looked grim, and Dallas didn’t like the way she ticked off each of her traits like she was sizing her up for a competition.

Plan? Strong enough for what? “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, lady, but I’m pretty certain you have the wrong woman here.” Dallas stood, “Who are you? Who is it that you say will need me?” She was starting to get angry. This woman seemed to have clue as to why she had ended up in this timeline, but the Yoda-act was already getting old. “Tell me why I’m here! You seem to have the answers…”

A smile. “Only a few.”

“What’s this plan you mentioned? Who’s plan?”

“I cannot tell you that, yet. There is still much to learn.” Aereon stood as if to leave.

“Great. Then tell me who is supposed to need me here? I don’t even know anyone in this hell-hole!” Dallas’ voice hitched in frustration.

Aereon gave her a bemused glance, “And here I thought you to be an observant girl. Tsk, tsk. I may have to rethink your intelligence as well.”

Dallas’ hands balled into fists as she bit back the curse she so wanted to hurl at the old woman. “Stop speaking in circles and maybe I’d have a chance at–”

“What do you think of our Lord Marshal, Dallas?” Aereon looked thoroughly entertained at Dallas halting mid sentence and standing there gaping at her.

“What? What in the hell does he have to do wi–”

“ – Everything to do with this,” Aereon intoned meaningfully, gesturing about her.

Dallas was getting tired of having her sentences cut off. “I…” but she stopped cold as the realization hit. Oh God, she was an idiot. “Wait a sec…Riddick is the one who needs me? How is that possible? I’m not from here!”

“You keep saying that as if I don’t already know, child.” Aereon sounded down-right motherly. “The point you are consistently missing is that it is possible you were brought here because you do, in fact, belong here.”

Dallas was dumbstruck. “No. Nononono…” she shook her head, stepping away from the Elemental. “I had a life. I had friends and people who cared about me back there. There’s no way I belong here in this freak show.”

“You didn’t answer my question. What do you think of the Lord Marshal?”

If the old woman didn’t stop changing the subject around all the bombshells she was hammering Dallas with, she thought she was going to scream. And start throwing things. Possibly both. Dallas looked incredulously at the woman in white before her. “Does it matter what I think of him?”

“Very much so,” the Elemental answered.

This all hinges on Riddick some how, Dallas thought. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think this woman was trying to …she kicked that thought out of her head. Talk about ridiculous. Crossing her arms over her chest again, Dallas indignantly answered. “I think he’s an animal. Brutal and merciless. I think he’s lived his life taking care of number one, and needs to learn that humanity calls for self sacrifice.”

She watched as the Elemental’s mouth curved into a knowing smile. “Precisely, my child. Precisely.” She turned to leave, but tossed one more little thought over her shoulder before she disappeared. “You are on the right path, my dear. Although,” she paused and turned, smirking, “ ‘animalistic and brutal’. Hmm. We must do something to change that point of view, mustn’t we?”

Dallas stood staring at the empty foyer to the suit after Aereon disappeared, fuming. “Thanks for the astounding array of nothing, lady.” The possibility that she might have been brought here for some purpose was ludicrous. And terrifying. Might mean her escaping would be all the more difficult – as if it wasn’t nearly impossible already. And all the talk about Riddick made her feel like she was well on her way to becoming a possession of his. A tool. A slave…

Right then, Corin entered with a fresh set of clothing. She looked at Dallas’ state and shook her head. “I am sorry for whatever the Lord Marshal put you through, m’lady.”

“What?” She thought Riddick did this…? Looks like I’m not the only one who sees his brutal side. “No, he didn’t do this. This was,” she struggled to find some simple way of explaining without sounding melodramatic, but massacres and human sacrifice are a little hard to pass of as blasé. “this was something else. Happened down on the planet.”

“I see,” she said, nodding. "Would you like me to tend to your wounds, Dallas?”

Dallas looked down at her arms, only then noticing that they were covered in cuts and bruises. A knee was torn out of her pants leg, probably from being thrown to the ground, and her leg was bloody. Dallas was suddenly so tired she could barely stand.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just clean myself up. Thanks.”

The hand maiden nodded, though looked doubtful that Dallas could care for herself in the state she was in. She left her to strip out of her clothing and step into the bathing pool. The cuts and scrapes screamed in protest of the hot water, but Dallas set about washing the grit out of each one. There were stains she couldn’t seem to get off – blood that wasn’t her own. Trance like, she scrubbed harder and harder, until her skin was raw and blistered. She wanted to wash this whole place off her. Strip her skin and put on a new outlook. This place had tainted her, and she was never going to rid herself of the stigma. Might as well live with it. Was about all she could do anyway. Dallas got out of the tub and wrapped a towel around herself. Standing in front of a mirror in Riddick’s bedchambers, she looked at herself – battered and raw.

The outside reflecting what was within.

Riddick didn’t return to his suite after his assault on Darmok. His mind was too full, his emotions too unstable. The beast in its cage inside him was still hungry for violence, even after the dregs of adrenaline had long since ebbed. And he didn’t trust himself around something soft and vulnerable, like Dallas. It was just too easy to give in.

So, he’d holed up in the chambers of one of the many play-things he knew, who was only too glad to see the Lord Marshal who’d been conspicuously absent of late. She wasn’t a talkative one – a blessing – simply giving him a knowing smirk when she found him leaning against her doorframe, haggard, bloody, and wearing the proverbial sign saying “do not touch” around his neck. Riddick ambled inside as if he owned the place, shedding clothing as he headed for the shower. His hostess poured then a few drinks, then entered the bathroom behind him.

Riddick barely felt the soft hands as they slicked their way over his muscles, gently cleaning away the soot and gore. He just stood, both hands braced against the wall, head bowed under the fall of the water, listening to it as it hit the tile floor of the empty pool-tub, while his hostess cleaned his wounds. He’d been this tired before, usually after the peaceful negotiations failed and he was forced into a fight he didn’t want. He’d tried the diplomatic thing from time to time. It usually just failed miserably. It wasn’t in Riddick to deal in double talk and innuendo – hiding his intent. He was more of a “have knife ready, ask questions later” kind of guy. He always knew what he wanted.

But Dallas had made him ask the hard questions. Confused his emotions until he wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. Damn the little piece. Because of her, he’d pushed his instincts to cut and run aside and gotten his ass nearly blown away for the trouble. Stupid. Real fucking stupid. She’d asked – with her eyes and that stubborn, expressive face (which reminded him too much of a certain blonde pilot) – if they didn’t help, who would? And he’d answered, despite everything he knew from a lifetime of hardship, that he would be the one to try.

What a fucking chump you’re turning out to be, Riddick thought bitterly.

“You’re mind is elsewhere, love.” His hostess had finished washing his wounds and was currently pressing every inch of her lithe, naked wet body against his side. Her hands roamed around to his stomach, tracing her fingernails over the bulges of his abdominals. It felt good. Riddick lifted his head to look at her over his arm.

“What of it?”

She slicked her long, black hair out of her face and gave him a little smile. She really was a lovely thing: dark tan skin and strong Indian features. Thin bodied and wide, dark eyes. Hint of an accent. She’d been a favorite of his because she rarely questioned him, and was adept at anticipating what he wanted.

“Why don’t you let me soothe your ache, my Lord? Relax you a bit.” Her hands had lingered further south, concentrating on his already hard cock. Riddick pushed off the wall and allowed her to slither up his front, placing kisses across his chest.

He stood, letting himself feel the soft lips and hands caressing his body, licking the water from his skin. How nice it would be to simply let her go down on him, placated his desires with her considerable talent. He tilted his head back, letting the shower rain down across his bald head. Her lips were already suckling him down there, and his hips gently rocked back and forth in time with her.

He needed this. Fuck, he really needed this. Dallas had his head fucked six ways to Sunday and he was tired of thinking about the implications of his actions. He was tired of feeling that weird guilt about what he could do to her. It wasn’t like he was going to actually hurt her, right? Riddick groaned as his hostess pumped his shaft with her hand as she sucked. Why did Aereon think she was so goddamned important? Just a mixed-up broad from who-the-hell-knows-where, more trouble than she was worth. Probably should have left her ass on that planet, saved himself the headache.

She pumped harder, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock, and Riddick reached down behind her head, urging her harder. God, this was so good. How badly did he need this release? Even as his body coiled around the pleasure his hostess was providing, his mind kept sliding back to the girl in his chambers.

She’d saved his life. That broke through the fog of sex in his brain and made him blow a frustrated breath out of his nose. Shit, Riddick. How can you let some little chick screw with you enough that you don’t sense an attack from behind? And she even used your gun…

“Shit,” he breathed. His hostess thought it was a compliment of her ministrations and purred a response.

She’d looked so terrified after pulling that trigger. So small under him after he’d tackled her to the ground. And goddamn him, he’d actually been scared for her. What the hell was wrong with him? After Kyra – he’d promised himself…swore that he wouldn’t let himself care. It always ended up with the other person getting killed. A haunted feeling twisted in his gut at the thought of Dallas dying in his arms, and his fist tightened in his hostess’ hair.

Riddick concentrated on the feelings of the moment. God, this girl was good. He was so close to his edge too, and the water was soothing his sore muscles as it beat down on his shoulders. He idly wondered if Dallas was in his bath at that moment, cleaning off the grime from the planet. Invariably, his mind wandered through visions of her stripping that black tank off, one strap at a time. Slipping it down over those breasts that teased above the neck-line. Turning on the waterfall, letting it sluice down those soft, round shoulders, the curve of her back, those rounded hips…

He climaxed just as he realized who he was fanaticizing about. “Fuck,” he growled in frustrated anger, and without really thinking, yanked his hostess back and away by her hair. As he flung her aside, she squawked indignantly as she hit the edge of the tub.

“My Lord, what is wrong?” She asked, gathering herself up off the slick tile.

Riddick doubled over, hands on his knees taking a few steadying breaths as he rode the rush of the orgasm to its finish. “Nothing,” he answered coldly. Climbing out of the shower, Riddick walked into the bedroom, running a hand over his face. Where the fuck had that come from? And if he was thinking about Dallas while screwing one of his whores…

He caught sight of himself in one of the mirrors. He couldn’t make out colors, but he could see the detail of his features. The lines of distress furrowed in his brow, the soft glow of his silvery eyes showed hot pink in his visual spectrum. Riddick stood there, breathing hard, staring at himself in confusion. He needed to get Dallas off his brain. Maybe find her some place else to stay. She wasn’t safe with him.

His hostess edged into the room with a towel around herself. She watched her master uncertainly. She was used to the rough stuff with Riddick, but she’d been missing her mark that night in anticipating his mood swings. Riddick glanced at her; seeing the look on her face only pissed him off more. She was looking at him like he was losing it. Maybe he was.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he warned.

Screwing up some courage, his hostess planted a hand on her hip and said, “My Lord obviously has other things on his mind this evening. Perhaps you should come back when you know what you want.”

The outright brazenness of her statement took him by surprise, so much so that he actually chuffed out a laugh. Riddick knew what he wanted. He wanted his old life back, his old self back. He wanted not to feel responsible for all these lives on the ship. He wanted to rewind the past few days, before that frustrating little whiff of a woman showed up on his ship, bringing a new shit-storm of problems into his lap. He didn’t want to be so intrigued by her, didn’t want to feel connected to her. He wanted Dallas out of his mind.

He wanted to fuck her, too, apparently. Too many things he couldn’t have that he so very much wanted. Ain’t life a bitch.

Riddick looked over at his hostess, who defiantly stood, bare breasted, with a towel half falling off her skinny hips. A feral smile crept across his lips, as he looked her up and down. She shifted nervously under his gaze. Probably rethinking her last statement of bravado. He stalked toward her, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her up against his body. Her feet were nearly off the floor.

With a willing smile, she let him devour her neck with his mouth as he moved them toward the bed. Riddick tossed her like a throw-pillow backward onto the bed.

“I know what I want, darling.” He rumbled. His hostess knew what to expect and was ready.

If he couldn’t have what he wanted, then he’d damn sure take what he could get.

TBC…

Some setup information in this, and some post-battle angst for Riddick. We’ll be getting him out of the “I’m a bastard, hear me angst” phase soon, methinks. The hostess scene was me letting Riddick be himself again. Shove off all the expectations of Aereon and Dallas for a change. As I said, I’m basically trying to remember this story as I go so bear with me. Read and REVIEW if you liked this extremely late installment.