Rating: NC-17 mainly for language

Rating: NC-17 mainly for language.
Pairings: Riddick/OFC
Fandom: PB/TCOR
Disclaimer: I don't own Riddick or PB/TCOR
Summary: caught!!
Archive: please ask first
Feedback: as always, yes please, but any nits or shreds by PM only thanks
Written: 2006

Author's Note: based on a dream, makes no sense at all and I make no apologies for my tongue-in-cheek humor

Arianne was exhausted. All she wanted to do was crawl home, climb into bed and let Riddick fuck her brains out. She clocked off and trudged wearily home to the apartment they shared above the flower shop where Riddick worked part time – undercover! Who'd expect a known and wanted criminal to work as a florist? It seemed he was a natural at flower arrangements whereas Arianne, who was supposed to do the job, sucked!!

The idea of surprising Riddick turned Arianne on as she walked the short distance home. She hoped he was still up…but then if he was in bed, she could wake him up with a blow-job! 'Good,' she thought when she saw the bedroom light on upstairs.

Arianne let herself in quietly and went upstairs to the apartment. She dropped her bag, coat, and shoes in the hallway and padded silently to the bedroom. Pushing the door open, she felt her whole world fall apart in the two seconds the image took to register in her brain.

"Riddick? What the fuck?...what the …Oh My God, no?...is that my?...don't answer that…I can't believe you are wearing my…shit…Riddick…" Arianne shook her head and walked back out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. The sight of Riddick in her shocking pink dress had stunned the words out of her.

She went to the kitchen, poured herself a large whiskey, and downed it in one gulp. It didn't erase the image, so she poured herself another one and gulped that one down, too. It seemed a bottle full wouldn't help so she gave up.

Riddick ripped the dress from his body and shouted 'fuck!' several times. She shouldn't have been back for another couple of hours; and it's not like he wanted to walk around wearing women's clothes, he just wondered what the silky fabric felt like. It felt real good if the truth be told – better keep that fact to himself when he attempted to explain to Arianne.

He grabbed his regular combat's and put one leg in whilst hopping about the room trying to get the other leg in before falling flat on his ass, banging his head on the bedside table as he did. Several more 'fuck's!!' later, he picked himself up and stumbled to find a mirror

Arianne heard a loud crash and wondered what the fuck was going on. Her mind slightly addled by the two large glasses of whiskey, she decided to go and investigate. She tripped, smacking her nose on the doorframe in front of her. She felt the blood instantly pour out of it. Clutching her nose with both hands, she ran for the bathroom.

Arianne pushed open the door and found Riddick trying to stem the flow of blood from a cut on his head. They looked at each other and she blurted out: "Why the fuck the dress, Riddick? Ohmigod, I cannot get that picture out of my head!" She shook her head and her nose throbbed.

Riddick groaned and held the damp cloth to his head. Arianne took the cloth from his hand and peeked underneath. "Shit Riddick, that is gonna need stitches!" she exclaimed when she saw the deep gash. She noticed he was now wearing pants – although not buttoned up, but loose and hanging off his hips.

He took a sweeping glance at her nose and grinned at her, "You'd better get that fucker looked at!" The blood had flowed down her chin onto her decollate. Her white vest was soaked red and only the throbbing pain in his head stopped him from lunging at her and bending her over the sink and fucking her from behind.

Arianne eyed up his crotch as it swelled. She would have grinned if her face didn't hurt so much. "Riddick? Why the hell did you put my dress on?" she asked him.

"I just wondered what it felt like – to look pretty, I mean…" he was cut off by the sound of choking laughter. He looked down at Arianne, who was bending over the sink, spluttering blood from her nose and mouth as she tried not to laugh.

"Oh my fucking God, Riddick…In a dress?" she doubled up again, spraying the mirror with a fine spray of blood. She clutched her face in pain.

Now it was Riddick's turn to laugh, "That serves you the fuck right. Now, come on, better get these looked at!"

Well, it looked like another day was ending with a trip to casualty again.