Rated M for language/sex/some violence. It's Riddick...what did you expect?

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New Zion is on the outskirts of the very edges of deep space. Most people don't make it out this far. I'm not most people. I've been sitting in this hellhole of a bar, drinking a watered down beer and trying to forget the past ten years. And then I see her. At first I think I'm seeing shit, happens when you stay in the Black too long, and I'd been out there for years. But then she looks up, looks right at me from across the room. I've never seen eyes like hers. Not before that planet, and not since. Surprised don't really cut it. I damn near choked on my drink. Fumbled my glass like some clumsy teenage punk.

By the time I sit back up she's right in front of me. Smiling a little, like she had some kind of fuckin' secret.

She still looks the same. Hair's a little longer, them baby blues seem a little colder. But it's her.

So, I'm sitting here staring at her like I'm seeing a goddamn ghost. And I am. As far as I knew she died on that planet. For me, of all fucking people. Shows how much I know.

She's standing there in front of me, in the flesh , in a prim skirt suit ,tapping the toe of her little 'fuck-me' heels in time with the music. Huh, still a bundle of contradictions…good to know some things never change. She looks damn good though…for a 'supposed-to-be-dead-woman.'

Part of me thought it was a trap. Most of me knew it wasn't.

We stare each other down for hours. Felt like hours, anyways. Then she's sitting across from me. Legs crossed, bobbin her foot, and smirking at me like we're two old slam buddies. Like I'm not the most dangerous man in the goddamn galaxy anymore. Like she had found something she'd been looking for.

She calls over to the waitress. Tells her to bring a round of shots, says it's a little celebration. Her eyes never leave mine. I have a million questions running through my head – mainly, what the fuck did they put in this beer– I don't say anything though. Don't think I could've if I tried.

The girl sets down the drinks and leaves, and then it's just me and her again. Me and Carolyn. Carolyn the guilt sick docking pilot baptized and cleansed by freezing cold rain as she pulled my sorry ass to safety. Redeemed…right before she was stabbed in the back by something in the sky. A blind man could see the fucking irony in that. Perfect timing. The holy man's god sure has one fucked up sense of humor.

"Riddick." She says my name. Quiet-like, so no one can hear but me. It's like a question, an answer, a demand, a joke…all wrapped up in one word. All I can do is look at her and hope that my mouth isn't hanging open.

I guess she picks up on it 'cause she laughs a little. I like her laugh. It's loud and clear . I'd only heard her laugh once before, but it stuck with me. Even after I lost it when Jack died.

She throws back her shot and her eyes close as she feels the burn. She makes this little noise in the back of her throat and all of a sudden the room got a little warmer. I can smell her from where she's sitting, that's how I know it's really her. That scent was burned into me, now it's the same. Minus the fear and blood.

She asks me how I've been like she already knew, and I laugh. Kind of. Haven't really laughed since Jackie died. Haven't had a reason to.

When I ask her what we're celebrating , she reaches into her purse and my fingers tighten around my shiv. You never know. She shoots me a look like she knows what I'm thinking and part of me believes she really does. She whips out this paper and slides it, real causal-like, across the table.

A full pardon. Bullshit, I think. Back from the dead or not, no body's gonna fuck me over. I ruled over an entire race of people for three days, before I sent them all to hell – or whatever the fuck they believed in – and going back to some asshole of a cell just ain't an option. So I slide it back to her, lean in real close, and tell her that if she's trying to set me up the fact that she saved my life ten years ago won't mean shit.

She rolls her eyes at me like she thinks I'm full of shit. Part of me thinks I might be. I realize then that she musta fought tooth and nail to make it back to wherever she hid on that planet. Strong survival instinct, shit. This woman was a fucking animal. Maybe I should be afraid of her and not the other way around. That almost makes me laugh. Almost.

We keep slamming down the shots. Me, I never said a word. She just watches me across the table with that little smile on her face.

An hour later we're headed outta the bar, she's weaving a little so I put my hand on her shoulder to steady her. She grabs my hand and kisses my fingers. Something inside me breaks – shatters, really – when her lips touch my skin.

Next thing I know I'm fucking her up against the alley wall. Hard. Really hard. Her head keeps hitting the bricks so she just leans into me and holds on for the ride. Smart girl. I know it must be hurting her because it hurts me a little. She never shows it though. Good thing too, cause I don't think I could stop. Every time I slam into her it feels like a little weight coming off my shoulder. Fucking for redemption… I could live with that.

She starts grabbing at me, bitin' my lips when I kiss her and when she comes it feels so good I almost black out. She whimpers when I slide out of her and put her down; and I can't help but watch the wetness trickle down her leg. It's tinged pink. I get this crazy urge to lick it off her thighs. I bet she'd let me, I think she'd want a taste too. Instead, I zip up and push away, she's leaning up against the wall panting and pulling her panties back into place. That goddamn smile is back on her face.

And then I'm ashamed. Really ashamed, and for the first time in a long time, I fucking hate myself. She kisses me on the cheek and it reminds me of how spectacularly I've fucked up what she had given me.

Holy man's dead. The kid – my Jack – had been slaved out, raped, and thrown in slam. And that was before she died saving me. Got stabbed right through the back. Just like Carolyn. Coincidence? Fuck that, I don't believe in coincidences. So, after sending those zealot nut cases to their precious Underverse; I said my last adieu- see- ya- later- kiss- my -ass, to the human race. I was done. I just faded into the vacuum of deep space. It's not hard to get lost out here.

"Come with me," she says. And for a second I get this feeling like I would follow her anywhere. Like I could just crawl into her and forget who I am and what I've done, just for a little while.

Anger cuts that shit real quick though. More than anger, I'm fucking pissed.

Damn her for finding me, I think, and fuck her for peeling back the beast's hide and exposing the flesh beneath.

I want to choke her for leaving me with the Imam, because he always treated me like a man, with respect.

I want to kill her for leaving me with Jack. My girl. Never got to tell her…but I wanted the world for her. Carolyn – this bitch – had wanted it like that. I start to think she "died" on purpose, because she knew I could protect them better than her. That they would latch onto me because of it…and that I'd start feel, to care. I hate her then, because she had been right.

The holy man dying hurt like a bitch. Jack…it damn near ended me. I painted Necropolis with blood that day. Couldn't understand why they kept running away. I was just giving them what they wanted. They really didn't like it when I made the lights go out.

I look at her standing there, reeking of sex and my sweat. I want to reach for her again. That pisses me off.

I tell her to get the hell away from me. She gets in my face and tells me to step the fuck up and stop running from myself.

Most people would run from the look on my face but not her.

Running's my life. If I stop I'll die, and it won't be by anyone else's hand.

"There're people who need you," she says. Then she just looks away and starts chewing on her bottom lip, like she's said too much.

Me, on the other hand…I can't think of a damn thing to say. All I know is I'm not angry anymore. Maybe because I can hear Jack's laugh ringing in my ears. I miss that little brat.

She's looking at me funny. Not sympathy…just understanding. It's too quiet.

So I ask her where she's staying. She told me ' The Ostara' and I nod approvingly. The name sounds familiar; something Jack read to me once…chick of renewal or some shit like that. Seems appropriate considering. Anyways, it's a nice place – well, as nice as you can get this far out.

We walk in complete silence. Normally I crave silence, solitude. But with her I have the strangest urge to talk about something, anything. I can't figure out what to say so I keep my mouth shut. She slips her hand into mine and for a second everything seems a little too fucking surreal for my taste.

Forget the fact that I'm holding hands; but I'm holding hands with a woman who, for the past ten years, was dead in my mind. And I just fucked her – violently – against the wall of some dirty alley; and now we're just strolling down the street, headed back to her hotel room like everything's just la-di-fucking-da…and she still has that smile on her face.

I start to think that this is a dream, but I haven't heard Jack struggling to breathe as her lungs filled with blood, and I dream about that every night. Every. Single. Night.

"This is it," she says. I jump a little, and that alone ticks me off. I never jump. Jumping is unacceptable. I'm Richard B. Riddick, I tell myself. I must be tired.

We're actually standing inside her room. I can't even fucking remember how we got up there. She's thrown me for a loop, that's for damn sure.

She moves to close the door but I catch it with my hand and step back out into the hallway. She looks kinda hurt, and I could shoot myself but I want to make that look disappear.

"What are you scared," she asks.

I laughed the last time she asked me that. Couldn't bring myself to this time though.

I step in and close the door. Its pitch black and I smell sex and blood and sweat… but no fear. But then again; why would I? She owns the dark as much as I do now, I guess. Maybe even more. If I wore a hat I'd take it off to her. She escaped that planet by herself. As far as I can tell she's not all wacked in the head. She's a bad motherfucker.

I like that in a woman. I like that in her.

She sits on the bed. Starts pulling folders and papers out of this brief case and spreading them out.

She tells me that the creature that took her from me dropped her and she was able to crawl away.

She says it like it was easy. Not fucking likely.

She says that she hid in one of the overturned cryo-lockers for three days, just waiting for her wound to go septic. She was damn near dead when they found her. A merc ship had picked up that I was on the HG, and when they got the distress signal they came gunning for me. Fuckers. They put her in stasis till she healed. And then they tried to slave her out. She killed them all.

I see the smile on her face. It bothers me and turns me on at the same time.

"The creed is greed," she laughs and I nod my head. She gets it now. Most people don't live long enough to understand.

She tells me how she got back to Iaso Delta, got a job as an inmate advocate – that makes me smile – and settled down for a while. Then she saw Jack's face in the paper.

"16 year old Jacqueline Benoit convicted of six counts of second degree murder," she says shaking her head, "I almost cried."

She hadn't though. I see it in her face. I recognize it. Tears won't come for her, not anymore.

She went looking for Imam, but by the time she had reached New Mecca the Necros had razed the city and he was dead. So was Jack. She laughed when she heard that it was me who defeated them. It was too good not to laugh. After I sent the Necros away, she came looking for me. To let me know that she'd worked with the interplanetary government until they rewarded me a full pardon for saving their sorry asses instead of tearing the universe apart. Because I could've. Easily.

But of course, news doesn't make it to deep space. Not unless you're looking for it. I hadn't been looking for shit but numbness.

And they…had rescinded my bounty. Johns was probably spinning in his grave. The pieces of him at least.

She pulls that slip out paper out of her purse again and hands it to me. My fingers are numb and I can hardly hold it.

"You're a free man Riddick," she says, "do something with it."

The smile isn't secretive anymore, she's grinning. I touch my face and fuck me if I'm not smiling too. Like an idiot.

It's starting to sink in, fast, and I feel this…this adrenaline rush. It's a kill high… fuck that…it's better than a kill high and my shiv hasn't even left my belt.

I pull her up from the bed and hold against me. It feels good, her being there. She just leans into me and I can smell her hair, flowers and something else, it smells good on her. Her heart is beating like crazy, or it could be mine. I don't really know. All I know is that my hand is on her hip and her skin is so smooth it's driving me fucking insane. My hands are all over her, I can't get enough. Nobody should feel that good.

So, I run my hands up her back, just feeling her skin. She seems to like it, I do. By the time I make it to the middle of her back, I get this weird feeling in my chest. Heavy like. I know what I'm about to find, but when my hand touches it I freeze anyway.

The scar's 'bout two inches long. I trace it with my finger, and kinda get lost in thought. After she'd pulled me outta the mud back on that planet, I'd tried to thank her. Kinda hard when your leg's torn to shit, and you got flying lizards trying to eat you. But I wanted to say it anyways. Never got the chance. She'd been ripped right outta my hands and into the sky and I couldn't do a fuckin thing about it. Never felt so helpless in my life.

So I tell her, then. It seems appropriate, shit.

"Thank you, Carolyn," I say, tilting her face up to look at me. "For everything."

And the look she gives me…it's like a shot of Raithium. Sends fire through me. She's burning me up. I fucking love it.

And then she's underneath me, pinned to the bed , scattering papers all over the room, and I'm kissing her like it's my last living act. My hands are all over her, and she's trying to tear through my shirt so I rip it in half to make it easy for her. I tell her I'll buy her a new suit cause I'm pretty much shredding what she's wearing. I leave her heels on, sexiest damn thing I've ever seen and when I pull back to look at her, naked, flushed, legs spread…I almost end it right there.

I bend down and nuzzle the inside of her thigh and she giggles a little bit. I think my stubble is tickling her. She stops laughing when fix my mouth over her and dip my tongue inside. She jumps, but I barely notice 'cause I'm trying real hard right about now to not come in my pants. She tastes better than anybody has the right to. I fix my lips over her clit and growl. She cries out and I can't help but smirk when she shivers and pulls my head closer to her. She's close already, usually that'd be an ego trip, but right now I need to be inside her so bad I'm starting to shake.

I unzip my cargoes and she hooks her heels in the belt loops and yanks them down. And then I'm inside of her. Everything seems to slow down. I'm thrusting into her hard, grinding down and working her into the mattress and she's making the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard. I pull her hips up to me and brush something inside of her that makes me see spots. She screams and I do it again. I do it until she's sobbing and tearing the sheets from the bed. I can feel her gripping me, she's so hot I can barely breathe.

Her breasts are moving in time with me and just watching them makes my mouth water a little. I take one pink little nipple little my mouth and suck. She half groans half screams my name and I shudder to a stop because that damn near pushes me over. She bucks up against me, begging me not to stop, and I start again. I can feel her now, getting tighter with each stroke, I'm fighting it. I know if she says my name like that one more time, its game over.

She's looking at me, wide-eyed and gorgeous, and I can't seem to look away. I can feel it, she's almost there, her breathing is getting rough, she's so fucking tight I can barely move, she arches up off the bed clutching at my back, our eyes meet for what seems like forever and I see something there, pure and genuine. I forget to breathe.

She comes apart in my arms, I think I hear screaming my name…but I'm too far gone to notice. This time I do black out. That's never happened to me before, ever. But I guess it was a mutual thing because when I come to, she's half way asleep, one long leg hooked over my waist. She still has a little grin on her face.

I can feel her wetness pressed up against my hip, and it threatens to light that fire one more time, but I control it. I know I was rough earlier tonight. And besides, I don't really plan on going anywhere soon. I got ten years worth of evils that have yet to be atoned for. She's gonna need her rest.

She challenged me once to rejoin the human race. Thought it was bullshit at the time, human race couldn't handle me. Hell, the human race didn't WANT me. Now lying here next to her…I'm not so sure.

You can't GET much more human than her. She's perfectly flawed. Sounds crazy, but makes perfect sense. She's the goddamn poster child for humanity; all idiosyncrasy, desire, and drive. And for whatever reason she wants me. I know that for a fact. I saw it. Bullshit aside, I want her too. Bad.

Probably won't ever know what happened to her on that planet, when she was alone in the dark, but I know that whatever happened, happened because she went back for me. Her sacrifice set something off in me that night. It's been sleeping all this time I've been alone, but I'm starting to feel a change. Not as bad as I thought it would be.

Still not sure if the human race is ready for me. Not sure if I'm ready for it either, but she's one of three people – in my entire life – who ever gave me a fucking chance. Two of them are dead now. But she's here. She's giving me another chance to salvage what's left of my life. She almost died for me once, and she's been tracking me, trying for me...for all these years.

The least I can do is return the favor.

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