A/N: I am in love with Vin Diesel in general and Riddick in particular, so here's a little story that I thought up that would have occurred between Pitch Black and The Chronicles of Riddick. There's only enough plot to link the smut, so don't read too deeply into things…

DISCLAIMER: Riddick isn't mine, though I wish to every god in heaven that he was...

People. He hated people. Detested them with a passion. People with their smells and jealousies. People with their money and petty cruelties. People with their laws.

But here he was. Around people. The small green planet had come on his radar screen after leaving Helion to drop off the holy man and Jack. The brat had screamed and ranted at him, tried to cajole him into staying, but he knew that he was trouble. His life was nothing but Mercs and slams, and staying with Jack would have just condemned her to a life of darkness—a life like his.

But, that didn't mean he couldn't have his fun. He couldn't stay too long at Helion—too many people and potential problems. And then there was the light. The ever-preset goddamned light that would not just fucking SHUT OFF. His eyes watered just thinking about it. Fucking goddamn trash heap of a planet.

But this planet was a little better. Xanos III. Pretty tiny backwater asteroid of a planet. Fertile enough, though not in the way most thought. The sea that covered the planet was noxious—almost akin to an acid-like substance. The settlers lived far from it in the tan brown earth in the center of the planet. There were only a 100,000 or so of them. No army, no airforce. No military might at all to cause problems. It was a spec of a spec of civilization.

No one would care—no one would come rescue anyone from a planet like this.


Riddick eased his craft into Xanos's atmosphere, preparing to land. He'd grab some provisions, a few supplies, some new fuel cells, and that'd be that. Undulating waves of emerald green lapped hungrily below. They said that a man lost to those emerald depths could be dissolved entirely in twenty minutes or less.


The ground hurtled into view and he hit the stabilizers and jerked up on the thrusters. He was coming in hot, and would need a good stretch to land the weighty sucker. Maybe he could even find a new plane while he was around…

Riddick saw stars as the spacecraft skidded to a halt. He hated landings.

Popping the hatch open, Riddick breathed in the strange, tangy air of Xanos III and gazed in the direction of the town—about 8 kilometers away.

"Ready or not..."

There was someone there. She didn't know who he was, but she wasn't scared. Living on the outskirts of town, you learned how to fend for yourself since you tended to get more than your share of uninvited guests. Fingering the black steel Krythos blade that she kept at the ready, she waited. This one had to have a shred of intelligence. Normally, most others would have rushed her by now, seeing a small shapely girl who looked like a teenager. They would understand how much muscle was hidden under her curves later. They would have sped to her by now out of desperation or out of lust, and she would have swirled to the side and disemboweled them with one smooth movement of her coal-black blade. They would have been dead in a steaming pile on her kitchen floor, making her have to cleanse and sterilize her house again. But this guy was studying her—he was a predator. And so she decided to call his bluff.

"Are you going to come out, or are you going to sit there and watch me all night?"

Looking back, she should've left him alone.

In a blur almost too quick to follow, a hulking beast of a man lunged at her, knife at he ready. She swirled and ducked, brandishing her own weapon. The clang of metal rang as he deflected her blow with one of his own. He was fast. But she was faster. She ducked his next attack, dropping to the ground to catch his chest with her foot and flip him into the opposite wall. He landed gracefully, unfazed. Shit. Most others would have hit the wall with a hard thud and stayed there while she kicked the shit out of them. Not this one. This one had an entirely different style of his own.

Precise. Calculating. Deadly.

From an outsider's perspective, it was a dance. Two dark warriors eying each other warily in a haze of death and destruction. They circled each other in the small confines of the room, testing and assessing. He was big—about three times her size, and obviously intelligent. She wouldn't be able to get to his heart through the thick muscles of his chest, or get close enough to his neck without getting her spine cracked. His wrists. If she could slit his wrists, he would drop the knife and be much easier to tame.

"You should have left it alone, lady."

"You should never have come here, asshole."

Then she lunged, feinting to her right, and then ducking to her left. He jumped, his chest narrowly missing her blade, but then realized that that was wasn't what she was aiming for.

The little girl has smarts.

She was faster, but he was stronger. Turning his forearm counterclockwise, he brought it up and slammed in her face, knocking her backwards. He snatched her before she could fall, and wrenched her wriggling form above him by her fragile-looking wrists.

"Well, well. Look what we have here…"

He raked his eyes over her appreciatively—she was a fine-looking piece of ass. Thick lips, thick hips, and a small middle, just what he liked. Her skin was a deep chocolate bronze, just a shade or two darker than him, and her hair fell in thick rivulets of tight curls to the middle of her back. But it was her eyes that got him. Outside of being filled with rage and hatred—he got that a lot—they were a chestnut color with golden specs that gave her a slightly exotic look. Hell, a very exotic look. He hadn't seen a woman like her in any of the brothels or planets he had been on yet. She kicked and spat at him, forcing him to turn her sideways, which only increased his appreciation further.

"Great ass."

The woman stilled and looked at him with pure murder in her eyes. For a moment he was entranced—her pupils seemed to dilate and glow a little more golden, two miniature suns set in a face of sweetness. And that's when it noticed it. There was a hum, a low level earthy electric hum that seemed to be emanating from her body to his. Not unpleasant, but strange, and it seemed to rock him with some unseen force that he was actually responding to. He was humming back.

"What the fuck are you doing, bitch?"

She didn't respond, her head lolling back and her eyes closing to half mast. He noticed that he was putting her down, though he couldn't recall moving. It was as if they were underwater and everything was moving in slow motion.

Damn it all to hell…

He wouldn't let her go, though. The crazy bitch would try to kill him, and she was just fast enough to come close. Although it seemed that she was moving just as languidly as he was.


The bitch tried to say something and then collapsed, but he wasn't much better. All he remembered was the cold kiss of the floor and golden eyes closing on him as he fell into darkness.

She stirred lightly, blinking by the huge pain that pounded forehead.

What the hell?

She had never felt so bad, or so spent. She felt as if she had been running a marathon and then slammed face first into a wall of cement.

Why am I on the floor?

Then it all came rushing back to her, and she leapt up to see the big hulking man still comatose on her floor.


Grabbing some Telis rope from her closet, she bound his arms and legs tightly, and then turned him over to loop them in a knot behind his back. The titanium coated ropes would hold him, and she was very happy for once that she had bought the material that had cost her over 300 credits to acquire. A good part of her still really wanted to slit the tendons in the man's wrists so that he would never be able to wield a weapon again, but something stopped her from doing that.

Fuck, I'm going soft.

She shook her head at her own weakness and assessed the situation. He was too big for her to move, and she didn't trust waking him, so she figured she'd work around him until he woke up and could move himself. He couldn't do anything save bite her, and she stayed well away from the muscular jaw just in case. Looking him over, he really was nothing but muscle—all bulging pecs and biceps, sinewy length and girth. He was handsome. She thought. She couldn't really tell since he was wearing goggles that obscured the rest of his face.

She reached down to remove the goggles, but thought better of it. It felt too…intimate to do that, though she wasn't sure why. At any rate, her stomach was growling, so it made sense for her to get on with her day.

Sighing with some measure of regret, Kaeion turned and started her chores.

He could hear running water. The woman was up and moving about her house as if there wasn't a stone cold murderer and very wanted man on her floor. She hadn't called the cops or mercs, or whatever their local law enforcement was—yet.

How interesting.

He hauled himself up, careful not to make a sound. She was humming to herself—a regular human hum, not the low, electric hum from before.

What the fuck was that?

Riddick shook his head to clear keep his mind from fuzzing over again. Bracing on his knees, he stood up and got a clear view from over the island in the center of the kitchen. He was bound hand and foot, and she had tied them in the back.

Telis ropes. Nice touch.

He had enough give to stand up and walk with slow, shuffling steps, but that was about it. He knew he could slip the bonds, but since she went through so much trouble to get him there, he figured, why bother? He could get what he needed and kill her soon enough, so he might as well have a good time with it. Hell, it wasn't like he had a schedule.

She finally felt something and turned with wide eyes. But no weapon.

Even more interesting.

"Oh, it's you. I was wondering when you'd wake up."

Riddick eased himself in a waiting chair in front of the wooden island in the room.

"Why didn't you call the cops?"

"What makes you think I didn't?"

His face broke into a deadly smirk. "Cops don't take long to get to me. They know better than that."

"So, are you telling me you're famous?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Well, too bad you're stuck in a backwater with me. Your fame will get you nowhere."

She was cleaning fish. He could see their turquoise scales amongst the fruits and vegetables on the table. He never understood how the people on this planet could die if they drank the water, but insisted on eating the life that grew in such acid. But fish from Xanos III was coveted delicacy—a dish that served as their most important, and really only, export.

"What's your name?"

"You can call me Riddick."

"OK, Riddick. Where are you from and why are in my house?"

"Are you normally so inquisitive with mass murderers?"

"I don't know. I've never questioned one. Is that what you're saying you are?"

Riddick grinned even wider. She was a sharp one. Just like Jack.

"Let's just say I had to make a little…detour from my first location."

"You must have made a lot of detours to land here."

Turning around, she placed a small plate of sliced fruit before him. He noticed that her face was round and soft, but shadowed with untold pain. An animal in a trap. She really was quite breathtaking.

"Are you hungry?"

"I can't feed myself, so does it matter?"

The woman smiled and colored slightly, and Riddick could feel himself growing hard beneath his baggy pants. What he wouldn't do to have his knife right about now…

"Where's my knife?"

"Oh, you mean this?"

Kaeion twirled the silver blade that she attached to her inner thigh and then dropped it back into place.

"I thought it would make a nice addition to my collection."

That hit him like a slap. There was no way on this fucking planet that he was letting her have his blade. His blade. He had a purely primal reaction to her comment.

He growled.

Kaeion looked at the man who had just growled at her like a rabid animal with something akin to shock and amusement. She was about to respond with another cutting comment when she felt his growl and had an immediate and completely unintentional response.

She growled back.

What the fuck? This is just too weird—first the humming, now the growling. What's next, fucking on the floor?

Kaeion quickly turned from the criminal in her chair. She needed to get him away from her, and soon.

"I have no intentions of keeping your blade. Prove yourself to be a good boy, and you'll get it back once I escort you to your ship and you go back to where you belong."

With that, she dropped the clean fish in the oven, wiped her hands, and sauntered out the back door.

It was late when she got back. She found the craft—it was five kilometers away from her place and looked perfectly flight-worthy. She'd give him some supplies and send him on his way tomorrow and the nightmare would be over. She just had to make it through tonight.

Why do I want to help him?

For the life of her, she didn't know why the man, this Riddick, was still alive and breathing in her kitchen or why she was helping him. He had already proven himself to be quite dangerous, had confirmed himself to be a criminal, and had done strange things to her body—whether advertently or inadvertently. And yet, she was sitting here pulling food from her garden to smoke overnight and give to him along with his blade tomorrow.

It'd be just her luck if he turned around and killed her. And she'd deserve it.

But she was raised by missionaries—it was compulsive. She couldn't see a person in need and not at least try to do the right thing. Now the lessons she had learned between her missionary training and coming to live on an outpost planet alone, the last of her kind—whatever kind that was—were hard and painful, but in the depths of her heart, she never really wanted to hurt anybody. Plus, she kind of liked the hulking stranger. He was funny.

She was so engrossed that she didn't notice that Riddick wasn't in his chair as she got closer to the back door of her house. She should have checked—a simple glance would have been enough—but she had too much faith in the strength of Telis and too little faith in Riddick's ability to escape.

Kaieon stepped across the threshold into her house and met an iron grip that closed around her throat. She couldn't breathe.

"Tell me why I shouldn't ghost you right now."

"Because…I…can…help you…"

Kaieon gasped out the words, fighting hard against the black spots that were overtaking her vision. A chill went down her spine when she realized. He really was a killer. He'd gut her, take everything she had, and leave with no regrets. Kaeion swallowed hard. Better stay on his good side, then—if he has one. He loosened his grip and she fell to the floor wheezing. A hulking mass squatted in front of her.

"I don't need your help."

"No, but you want it."

"Really? Why is that?"

"Because I can get to town without being spotted as a mass murderer. Because I can get you the four new fuel cells that you need to get out of this galaxy without stopping for another three years. That's why."

Riddick paused, considering her words. The girl was good, he had to give her that.

"Alright. You've got a deal." Riddick extended a hand and Kaieon shook it warily before being pulled into an unforgiving chest. His hands traced the curve of her arm, skated across her stomach, and was traveling lower. She didn't know what to do—at this moment she was at Riddick's complete and utter mercy.

"But this…" hot fingers against her thigh, delving, delving… "…belongs to me." Kaeion tensed as she felt the fingers close in on her nether regions but then exhaled in relief as she felt him veer to the right and pluck his knife from her holster. He smirked and moved away, taking one last moment to breathe in her scent slowly and obviously.

"I'll be back at dawn. If you're not here, I'll track you down and show you why I'm so famous."

And then he was gone—a shadow in the midnight air.