A Chronicles of Riddick: Pitch Black fanfiction
Jack glared at him and the beast within him half purred. He had to protect her, for the safety of his sanity and the known galaxy. Somehow, if something ever happened to her, he knew that he'd murder half the universe before they could catch him. Her pain, her death… it would destroy the last link that he had to sanity.
"Goddammit, Riddick. You leave me here and I swear on all of the known gods that I'll take up with the next merc crew hunting your sorry motherfuckin' ass!"
She didn't scream at him. He wouldn't have taken her screams seriously. Richard Riddick took no one's screams seriously.
"Holy Man, watch the kid." He emphasized the word 'kid', making her eyes spit more emerald fire at him. "Don't let her sign up with mercs. She don't know what they're like when they're huntin'. And watch your damned mouth, Jack."
Imam and his new wife nodded. Riddick could smell her pregnancy and the hormones were driving him insane, making the beast in him want to claim his chosen mate, come hell or high water. More than once, he'd had to remind himself that the only available female in the house was a fourteen-year-old child who was defiant, aggravating, annoying, ill-raised….
Alluring, spunky, never-say-die courageous, talented, brilliant…
"Riddick, you need me. Who's gonna watch your back?"
He flinched inwardly. Ah, kid, if you only knew the half of it. But you need time to do some growin' up. I don't need some half-grown child-mate making me want to scream during space travel. Too temptin'.
"I'll watch my own back, kid. Been doin' it for years now. Think I got the hang of it."
"You fucktard. Your ass deserves to get shot if you ain't willin' to take on help. How are you gonna manage all the repairs on Whats-her-name if you ain't even got a small crew?"
"Watch it, kid."
She spat a curse that had Riddick blinking behind his goggles, Imam paling, and his wife fainting. He frowned at her as she continued with an approximate guess of how he could perform the curse.
Her eyes widened. He had only called her 'Audrey' once before in the long months of their acquaintance. He knew that she realized that she'd gone too far now. She was always 'Jack', unless Riddick thought she needed scolding.
"I'll come back for you, Jack. I promise."
Her eyes filled with tears, making him feel helpless. She didn't believe him, it was obvious. She thought that he was abandoning her, like everyone else had in her past.
Awkwardly, he walked over and hugged her, whispering, "How do I make you believe me, Jack?"
Her hand slipped between them and clenched in his shirt, fingers curling around his dogtags. "Leave me your dogtags and your shirt. You'll come back for one or the other."
He forced his mind from going to the mental image of his tank top reaching the middle of her thighs, almost too short. If his dogtags and a shirt would soothe her fears, he'd give it.
The shirt came over his head and he folded it before handing it over. She promptly unfolded it and slid it on. He couldn't resist taking a small sniff of their combined scents, making him shudder inside. And he'd been right. The tanktop reached about the middle of her thighs, making him imagine the pale flesh beneath her baggy black pants, dressed almost as if for a mosh concert.
He took off his dogtags a bit slower. He'd never let another touch these, much less wear them. And he was going to hand them to Jack… Let her hold them for who knew how long…
He slipped the dogtags around her neck, pretending not to watch when they settled neatly into the valley between her budding breasts. Why was he doing this? Why was he promising her something he wasn't sure he could give? Why did her peace matter to him?
Her hand was now over his heart, palm to skin. Her fingers kneaded the flesh slightly, eyes wide and bright as her arms came around him.
"Jack," he breathed, scenting her again, knowing that it would have to last long years while he waited.
"Two years. Then I come after you. And I'll do it, Riddick. Dammit, I'll do it." The tears were there again, but they weren't sad tears. She was… resigned to this. That she'd have to wait.
"Three. Not a day more."
He nodded, unable to believe that he'd actually negotiated. Oh, if any of the fuckers back at Butcher's Bay could see him, they'd say he was pussy-whipped. By jailbait at that! Richard B. Riddick didn't negotiate. Didn't care what happened to the people around him as long as he survived.
"Three years, Riddick. Only three. I'll be a graduate by then, be ready for space again. Be ready to be a good partner for you."
"Sharpen your senses. Feel everything. Be constantly aware. Look, taste, touch, hear, smell. Learn your weaponry. Learn survival."
She nodded, eyes sharpening. He knew she'd obey. She was like that. She obeyed no one but him. Even now, when she truly wanted to go with him, to live with him, to be with him, simply be, she would obey his desire that she stay and grow up.
"Alright, Riddick. Now, please, go before I change my mind."
Her fists clenched in the folds of his shirt, much too large for her, ridiculous and sexy at the same time. He nodded and blended to the shadows, wondering what the pressure on his heart was and why every step the other way that he took hurt.