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Acid and Steel (Riddick / Alien Resurrection)	By : Naergi Category: M through R > Pitch Black Views: 2567 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chlorine
- 2-Ether
- 3-Sulfur
- 4-Mercury
- 5-Iron
- 1
- 2
Author: Angie aka Naergilien (naergilien_at_yahoo.de)

Title: Acid and Steel

Rating: NC-17

Fandom: Riddick / Alien Resurrection

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the movie characters from Alien Resurrection or Pitch Black. This is just personal fiction created for fun.

Summary: Riddick meets an equal opponent. Can they get to a level of shared interests to escape their prison?

Pairing: Riddick / Ripley 8

Archive: Sure, just tell me where.

Feedback: Constructive criticism as well as praise are most welcome. As English is *not* my first language *and* I would like to improve it, constructive criticism concerning spelling and *anything* else that looks strange is really important to me. Of course feedback about the story itself is also very welcome

Author's Notes: I've been wondering for a long time who could be a worthy opponent for Riddick and this is what I came up with.

The story is based on Riddick, pre-Pitch Black; and Alien Resurrection, Ripley 8, the clone of Ellen Ripley, based on the events after her cloning, but before the events that take part later in that movie. If you want, this whole story should fit in somewhere after the clone has grown up, but shortly before the alien queen chestburster is removed from her, as it happens in the movie. You should have seen both movies to understand this story, I guess ;)

Enjoy!

1. Chlorine

Horsebit and shackles on feet and hands were things he was used to. Not comfortable with, but used to. Blindfold too, occasionally. The earplugs were not really new, but also something that, occasionally, was used. He could live with that.

Being transported on a tray, however, was new to Riddick.

Who the fuck would want to carry someone like him if he was still able to walk by himself?

Just a transport to a different slam, he had been told. Or rather not, had gathered that from what he heard from the guards before. Also nothing new. New triple max prison's security to test? They'd bring someone like him in and would know within a day or two if the security was tight enough.

Not that they would always recapture him outside afterwards, though.

But the tray was new. And bothered him. What the hell did they think he was? Some piece of meat?

Riddick was pissed.

The transport took almost two days. No food, no water.

Nothing new to him.

But damn, his back started to hurt from just lying there. The occasional rolling of his shoulders and stretching his legs didn't help much. Fuck, he'd need some extra exercise units to make up for that damn transport.

No matter how new the prison, there would always be someone around stupid enough to challenge him. To fight him. To try and kill him.

He wanted to be prepared for that.

The muffled sound of an opening airlock passed by the earplugs. Finally, he thought and expected to be released any time soon.

Which didn't happen.

Again, he was carried. No way in telling how many people were doing that. No way of counting their steps, knowing into which direction he was carried.

Then something that felt like an elevator, for a long time.

Interesting, he thought.

Elevator stopping, more carrying. People talking; so quiet he couldn't understand what this was about. Some more steps, and he was hauled from the tray onto something softer. A bed.

The muffled sound of a door closing, the clicking sound of the magnetic shackles electrically and probably remote controlled opening.

He shook them off his feet and wrists and took the horsebit, blindfold and earplugs off. It took him some time to notice that his goggles were next to him on the bed. He didn't need them now, in the darkness of this room. Just a tiny bit of light came through below the door, not enough to blind him but not enough to light up the room either.

Room? This here was a fucking two-men-cell, he thought while looking around. Bunk bed, and he was lying on the bottom bed. Table. Two chairs. Sink with a mirror above it. Toilet.

No window.

In an approximately 9x12 feet small room tiled from floor to ceiling with white, sterile tiles.

Just great, he thought. That was not what the usual slam cell looked like.

This here looked like a goddamn bathroom. Or a better isolation cell, maybe.

He sat up on the bed, placed his feet on the ground and massaged his wrists which were still hurting from the two days of being in shackles. Ankles were hurting, too; so he gave them some attention as well.

A barred window in the massive steel door opened; he winced at the intrusion of light. One hand coming through, crooking the index finger.

Riddick thought about trying to break the arm that belonged to the hand for a second, but he knew that this was useless. He had to get to know the surroundings better before he would try to break out.

But he knew what the sign meant.

He raised, carried the horsebit, the blindfold and the shackles over and pressed them into the outstretched hand, instantly being rewarded with a cup.

Empty cup, but better than nothing to get some water from the steel sink.

The window was closed.

As he turned around and looked back through the cell, something happened that rarely happened to Richard B. Riddick: He froze.

Someone was standing in the cell, right next to the bed, looking at him. A woman.

Damn, how had he missed that? Someone being in the cell with him? That person could only have been on the bed above his, and how she had managed to descend from there without making a sound was totally beyond him.

The thing that struck him most awfully, however, was the fact that he had neither smelled nor heard her before when he still had been on the bed.

And even now he could neither smell nor hear a sound from her.

Something was wrong with that woman, he just knew it. Someone who could sneak on him like this was dangerous; a threat to him.

And some threats are better met with cautiousness, he thought.

The woman just cocked her head at his gaze and kept staring.

She was freaking tall for a woman; not much smaller than him, about an inch perhaps. Lithe, musculous. Eyes full of life, as far as he could tell with his distorted, shined vision.

What he could see, however, was the energy billowing in blue vapors from her body.

No one he had ever seen before had looked like that through his eyes. So... powerful.

Not even he himself when he looked down at him.

"Richard B. Riddick." He tried his best smile.

The woman cocked her head to the other side and said nothing.

So far he had concentrated on her eyes, the aura of energy surrounding her. Now that she didn't talk, didn't introduce herself, he allowed his eyes to travel over her.

Fuck it. Damn, whoever put him into this cell with her was one sick stupid sucker, so much was clear to him. Who in his clear sane mind would have put a woman wearing a nightgown and shackles on her wrists into his cell?

Was it possible that it was his birthday? Or that this was some kind of weird welcome party in this strange slam?

The blue cloak of energy around the woman billowed less high. Seemed as if she calmed down. The fact that he still couldn't smell her or hear her breathing irritated him. Then again, this whole place smelled strange. He had caught the faint scent of chlorine ever since he had been brought here. It was virtually everywhere. Probably also covering her own scent.

It was impossible that a living, breathing person smelled like nothing.

Then again, it was also impossible that this very person didn't produce any sound.

He stilled his own breathing. Listened.

Nothing.

Which allowed just one question.

"You dead, android or what?" He asked. By now his face had taken up a deep frown.

To his surprise she just turned and jumped back onto the bed. He blinked. Once. Twice.

She had jumped onto the top bed. Backwards. Was now sitting there, staring at the wall, her feet dangling down from the edge.

No human being could perform such a motion. Not without seriously banging against the edge of the upper bed. Not without straining some muscles.

Android, definitely, he thought. But why an android wasn't just shut down but put into a cell instead was something he didn't understand.

Anyway, he wasn't interested in playing with or fucking synthetics; so he just lay down on the bed, folded his arms behind his head and pondered about the purpose of that droid in his cell.

------------------------------

Behind the mirror, two scientists had been watching the whole scene with interest.

"This experiment will be interesting." One said to the other, still staring through the one-way mirror.

"Oh yes," the other said, "we're still taking bets. Who do you think will survive longer in that cell?"

"I still place my money on Ripley 8." The first laughed quiet.

"Did you see that Riddick guy?" The second scientist snapped. "He's, like, double her weight!"

"Yeah, and she's twice as strong. So?" The first replied. "Look at them, like acid and steel. Well, if that doesn't fit."

"God help us if those two should ever develop the idea to team up." The other said, his face darkening.

"Why should they? That would mean they'd have to talk, which both don't like to do. Besides, they have no common interest. Come, let's have some dinner."

------------------------------

The two people being called 'acid' and 'steel' were unaware of the experiment of which they now were a part; which, in fact, consisted of them. At that moment, when two scientists opened and closed a door nearby, they were just lying on the beds of the cell they shared, stared into the darkness and asked themselves what the hell they had done to deserve something like this.

Each for themselves, of course, without talking.

That was the one thing they had in common without knowing it.
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Acid and Steel (Riddick / Alien Resurrection)