Author's Note: While I considered sitting on this chapter for a few days before posting it, after reading your reviews I realized that that would just be cruel. So here it is... Now, I have to state that things are a bit misleading in this chapter. There is more going on than there appears to be. Thank you to all of you that reviewed "The Things that Happen", it really helped me get myself together to finish the story. For those of you that haven't read it - go read it!! It will explain much. Now, on with the chapter. Please excuse any errors, no matter what type. And, as always, read, review, and enjoy.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it.

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"Kid!"

Kyra started at the shout, hitting her head on the underside of the car she was working on. She had been working with these same guys for almost a year and a half now, and all of them still insisted on calling her "kid". Some things never change. Sighing, she rolled out from under the vehicle and sat up.

"Fuck," she muttered, absently rubbing at the sore spot on her head. "What?" she called back, looking around for her boss, Cap. Resting her other arm on her upraised knee, she turned toward the office, a wrench dangling from her dirty fingers.

Cap was leaning in the office doorway, his stained grey coveralls half open and tied around his waist. Tall and well built, he'd tried many times to get the shop's only female mechanic to go out with him. Each time, she'd turned him down flat. Now, as he lit up a cigarette, he grinned. "Jag owner's here," he said, pitching his voice over the blaring of the shop radio. "Wants to know how much longer you'll be." Kyra opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off. "Wants to talk to you personally," he said. Kyra growled and glared at him. She hated dealing with customers.

Pushing herself up, she pulled a rag out of her back pocket and wiped her hands. She replaced the scrap of cloth and shrugged back into the top half of her coveralls. Tucking her wrench into her hip pocket, she headed for the office. "You know, Cap, you can be a real dick sometimes," she muttered, as she brushed past him.

After talking to Mr. Jag Owner, Kyra unzipped the top half of her stained work outfit, tying the arms low around her hips. Then she sat on a stool just outside the open door of the garage and lit a cigarette. Making sure that she was under the roof's overhang, she blew a stream of smoke out into the dripping rain. She closed her eyes and allowed her body to rest back against the side of the building. Taking a deep breath, she felt some of the tension flow out of her muscles.

"You gonna leave on time today?" A voice spoke from behind her, and she opened one eye to look its owner. It was Spence – a gangly teenager, just out of high school. He reminded Kyra of herself, when she was younger…when Riddick was still around… Shaking her head, she smiled and handed him her cigarette; Spence took a drag then gave it back.

"Hoping to," she replied. "I just need to finish the tune up on the Jag, then I'm done." Spence nodded and leaned nonchalantly against the garage doorframe. Kyra knew he had a slight crush on her, and she didn't mind. She hadn't dated much in the two years since Riddick left – it had just never really occurred to her, nor did she see the point in trying to build a lasting relationship when she might have to leave at any time. Right now, though, she didn't see any harm in letting the kid's infatuation run its course. "What about you?" she asked, blowing smoke rings toward the eaves.

"I got a couple oil changes – a VW and a Beemer." Kyra nodded and looked back out into the rain.

"Well," she said after a few moments, crushing her cigarette out on the heel of her shoe, "better get finished up so we can leave, huh?" Spence sighed and started back into the garage; Kyra watched the rain for a moment longer before she started to follow him. She was just about to head back to the car she'd been working on when a quick chill ran down her spine. Glancing over her shoulder, she frowned. The sun had set about an hour ago, but she could just make out something hiding in the shadows. She shook her head, blinked, and it was gone. Just my imagination, she thought. Nothing there.

-

That night, Kyra showered right after work, tossing her greasy coveralls into a separate hamper to avoid staining her everyday clothes. After she was clean, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a tank top, then stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She was going out tonight, and she wanted to look good. After twenty minutes of struggling to tame her unruly curls, she growled and blew an offensive strand off her forehead. "Fine, I'll just leave it down," she muttered to no one in particular. A quick touch of make up, and she was out the door, headed to Merlow's club district.

Walking into the Shooting Star was always a good feeling. Kyra headed straight for the dance floor, needing to get rid of a little excess energy before she started drinking. She was already lost in the hypnotic beat when she felt a strange hand brush her hip. Her eyes opened, staring blankly into the strobe-lit darkness, trying to see. That hadn't been an accidental touch…that had been on purpose. Slowly, still swaying her hips to the music, she turned and scanned the crowd. She was desperately looking for someone – anyone – that could have traced that strangely familiar caress across her skin.

Two silver lights winked back at her.

Kyra gasped. "Riddick."

Then the eyes were gone. Instead, she felt a large body behind hers, moving in time with the music.

"Where the hell can I get eyes like that?"

His voice was pitched low, so she didn't so much as hear it over the music as feel it vibrating through his chest. God, how she'd missed that feeling.

"Gotta kill a few people," Kyra whispered automatically. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.

Riddick placed his hands possessively on Kyra's hips and spun her around to face him. He bent his head so that his breath tickled her ear. "What d'ya say we get outta here?" he asked. Instead of answering, she rose up on her toes and lightly scraped her teeth across the sensitive skin between Riddick's neck and shoulder. He growled at her, grinding his hips against hers one last time. Then he turned and wove his way out of the crowd of writhing bodies on the dance floor.

Working their way out of the club wasn't difficult. Riddick only had to check once to make sure that Kyra was still with him. Once he was out in Merlow's cool night air, he paused and she almost ran into him. The feeling of her body heat on his back was getting to him – reminding him of how long it had been since he'd seen her.

Suddenly, he reached behind him and grabbed Kyra's wrist. Yanking her into the nearest alleyway, he shoved her roughly against the brick wall and fastened his lips on hers. Her soft cry of surprise quickly turned into a moan of pleasure; Riddick growled in response. It had been too long since he'd tasted her like this – all hard and fast and needy…

He had her pinned against the wall, her toes barely touching the dirty pavement; he was kissing her so hard she wondered if enough oxygen was getting to her system. Giving in to impulse, she surrendered to the kiss – her body pushing closer to his, trying to absorb some of the warmth she'd been too long without. Would she ever get enough of this man?

Feeling Kyra relaxing against him, Riddick's hands stroked lightly at the soft skin exposed by her low jeans and tight shirt. His fingers traced up, under her top, and a rough palm cupped her breast. She broke the kiss then, her eyes closed and chest heaving as she tried to breathe. She arched into his hand, letting her head fall back against the brick wall with a soft thump. Her strangled moan sounded something like, "Oh, God, Riddick…"

The sound of Kyra's breathy voice brought him to his senses. Jesus. I leave for two years, and the first time I see her, I fuck her against some dirty alley wall? No. He wouldn't do this. Pulling away, he braced his hands on the brick behind Kyra. "We can't," he rumbled, fighting for control. She looked up at him, green eyes clouded with lust.

"What?" she started. But something in Riddick's face must have gotten through to her. Her expression changed and she nodded before ducking under his arm. "The apartment?" she asked, adjusting her clothes. Riddick nodded, thanking whatever God there might be for this woman that understood him so well.

They made it back to the old apartment – but just barely. Before Kyra could even get the key in the lock, Riddick's hands were under her shirt, stroking her sensitive skin as his mouth fastened on her neck. She let out a low moan of longing just as the doorknob turned in her hand.

Never breaking away from one another, they moved into the apartment's small front hall. Riddick kicked the door shut behind them, then turned to shove Kyra against the heavy wood panel. He pressed his body against hers, vaguely aware of her fingers fumbling behind her for the lock. Both know that this was as far as they would probably get, before passion overcame them. At least it's not an alley wall, Riddick thought dazedly.

Kyra felt him lifting her off the floor as his mouth came down to cover hers. Giving in to the kiss, she brought her legs up and wrapped them around his lean waist. She moaned softly when her aching center came into startling contact with the hardness straining against the fabric of his pants. It had been so long…not just since she'd been with Riddick, but since she'd been with any man…

Tearing her mouth away from his, Kyra let her head fall back against the door. He still did it to her; even after two years apart – after leaving the way he did – he still took her breath away.

Riddick took advantage of the newly exposed skin, tracing a path down her slender neck with his tongue. She tasted better than he remembered – sweeter…sexier…

Finally, he couldn't control himself any longer. Letting Kyra's legs fall from his waist, he pushed her jeans down over her hips and off her body. He hitched her up again, forcing her hard against the door as he ripped open the fastenings on his own pants. He heard the distant sound of a button hitting the floor, but didn't care. Bringing her legs back up to wrap around him, Riddick let his fingers trace down to her most secret place. Instead of finding some lacy, frivolous creation pretending to be underwear, his hand met warm flesh.

"Expecting me?" he growled. Kyra moaned at the contact, pressing against his callused palm.

"Please," she gasped. "Please, Riddick. Now." She was writhing against him, the moist heat of her driving him crazy. Groaning, he captured her lips with his, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as he drove into her body.

The sex was hard and fast, and when they finally found their release their bodies were covered in sweat. Riddick was breathing hard, relishing the tiny tremors running through Kyra's muscles. He could feel his own body shaking as exhaustion threatened to make him collapse.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his head. "You okay if we move, kid?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Mm-hmm." He smiled at her closed eyes and the relaxed feeling of her muscles. Carefully untangling himself from her limbs and their half-discarded clothes, he swung her limp body up into his arms. Then he easily made his way down the hall to the bedroom.

Laying Kyra's slender form on the perfectly made bed – kid always was kind of a neat freak – Riddick stripped off the rest of his clothing and slid them both under the covers. She grinned drowsily at him, looking almost sexier than Riddick could take. He wanted her again – now. But when he glanced down at her, she was asleep, with that sated smile still clinging to her lips.

He hadn't meant for things to happen this way. He'd seen her working in the repair shop earlier, then he'd caught sight of her at the Shooting Star... He almost hadn't recognized her at the club, though; that shocked him. In the sea of bodies on the dance floor, he hadn't been able to pick her out right away. It was the make-up, he decided. And her hair had been down, flowing over her shoulders, instead of twisted up and out of her way.

Looking down at her, wrapped in his arms, Riddick wondered how he had ever left her. He'd come back for her twice now; he couldn't help it. He just had to see her, talk to her…to know she was okay.

He sighed and pulled Kyra closer to him. Inhaling her familiar scent, he closed his eyes and fell into a light doze.