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Close Quarters	By : dawnenab Category: M through R > Pitch Black Views: 10937 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Pitch Black, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Close Quarters
- 2-Chapter Two
- 1
- 2
Chapter Two

Author: Ali email: aaolianysedai@yahoo.com

Title: Close
Quarters (working title)

Rating: NC-17 now
for language, later for graphic sex.

Fandom: PB

Disclaimer: Don't
own Riddick or anything from PB. Anyone/thing else is mine.

Summary: It's
getting crowded. Something's gotta give. But what?

Pairing:
Riddick/OFC--(Despite appearances this will NOT ultimately be a Riddick/Jack
pairing.)

Archive: With
permission

Feedback: Please.
1st riddick fic. Need to know if I should bother to continue.

*********************************************

Chapter Two
"So. Where were we?" Riddick growled. He leaned across the table
until they were nearly nose to nose. She had the distinct impression he was
smelling her. It was unsettling, but she refused to give him the
satisfaction of knowing he made her uncomfortable.
"I was minding my own business. You were imposing,"
she quipped, quirking an eyebrow at him when he laughed aloud at her snide
reply.
Riddick stood up and moved his chair over beside her, leaning in closely and
inhaling deeply again. She felt a quicksilver stab of alarm that fled as
soon as she realized he hadn't touched her.
"And here I thought we were getting to know each other. You got a
name?" he asked. He tilted his head to one side slightly and watched her
intently.
"You first. You're the one who invited yourself to this little party,"
she shot back. She saw his lips compress into a tight line and wondered if
she had pushed him too far. The guy was huge and upon closer inspection, he
didn't appear to be your standard issue spaceport weirdo. He had an air of
quiet confidence, coupled with an almost predatory grace, that was not to be
found in the hobos and drifters who usually frequented these places.
"Bryan. Bryan Richards. Now you, " he said. His voice,
barely above a whisper, fluttered across her senses like butterfly wings and she
couldn't suppress the shudder that passed through her.
"My name's Caitlin. Now, you wanna back off and give me
some room?" she demanded. Her voice was as low as his but sounded
more a breathless plea than a dangerous warning. She steeled herself and did not back away from him, maintaining
her space and waiting for him to get out of it.
"Caitlin huh? Pretty name." Riddick said.
His voice was a deep purr and Caitlin shivered again. His body heat was distracting and nearly as intoxicating as the
alcohol they were consuming. She refused to relinquish her territory
out of sheer stubborn pride, so she found herself almost beneath Bryan.
With all other options exhausted she began to look at him more closely.
From the stubble on his scalp
she knew that it had been a few days since he last
shaved his head. She could not help but wonder how that stubble would feel
under her touch. Stop it, Caity, she told herself harshly.
Yet even as she berated herself she was unable to take her eyes away from his broad shoulders,
letting them sweep down to arms that resembled huge steel coils, ready to unleash their power at a
moment's notice. Those arms looked like they'd be capable of making someone feel
protected, sheltered from the universe and all its devils.
You don't need a man to feel safe, she screamed inside. Never have.
Next her gaze fell to his chest, following the lines of his body and admiring
how his waist narrowed markedly. She knew, without having to see, that
his abs looked as if they'd been chiseled from marble. She could
imagine the fine line of dark hairs trailing from his naval down into the
waistband if his cargos leading enticingly down to...
Caitlin heard a distinctly amused chuckle rumble out of Bryan's chest.
She suddenly realized that she was staring directly into his lap. Jerking
her eyes back up quickly she stared into his goggles and felt an uncomfortable
heat flush her skin. She hadn't blushed since she was seven years old and
didn't quite know what to make of the feeling now.
Abruptly the front door opened and a large, rough looking man stepped in.
Hard eyes scanned the room with rapid efficiency and came to rest on the table
where Riddick and Caitlin sat. With a sneer the newcomer covered the space
that separated him from their table in a few long strides. His eyes
briefly took in Riddick and quickly dismissed him as insignificant, then flashed
with sarcastic hatred as they settled on Caitlin.
"Thought I'd find your worthless ass here. What the fuck do you think
this is, a vacation? Get up off your ass now and come with me, bitch."
Caitlin winced as each new insult was heaped on her, but she never looked up at
the grimy man with the mean eyes. Instead she hung her head and began to
rise from her chair.
Riddick's hand shot out and closed around her upper arm, effectively
preventing her from standing. His grip was not painful, but it didn't
loosen once she'd retaken her seat either.
"Stay here, little girl," Riddick told her firmly. Caitlin nodded
without looking up at him. She hadn't raised her eyes from the floor since
the man had approached them. "I think you should leave now," Riddick told
the stranger, standing up from his own chair.
The lethal quiet that those words were delivered in must have made Mean Eyes
reevaluate Riddick because the sarcastic sneer fell from his face and was
immediately replaced by a guarded stare.
"I got no problem with you. The bitch comes with me," the man said.
He drew himself up to his full height which was about the same as Riddick, but
when the staring match began it took only seconds for the stranger to realize
that he was out manned.
"Call her that one more time and we'll see who has a problem," Riddick
growled. His fists were clenched at his sides and his left pec flinched
from the tension wound up in him.
"No, Bryan. I need to go. Th-this is m-my...boss, Batch.
Batch, this is Bryan Richards." Caitlin said meekly, still not taking her eyes off
the floor as she spoke.
Riddick was baffled by her sudden change in disposition. The woman had
been ready to take him on, by herself, only a few minutes ago. This
dick with ears walks in and she has her tail between her legs. Something
was very wrong with the situation. Riddick just needed to decide if he
really cared what.
With a nonchalant glance spared to each of them, Riddick stepped around the
table and headed to the door. He didn't look back. If the woman was
resigned to dealing with such abuse, he was not going to stand in her way.
As he left the bar, Riddick was surprised to be haunted by the memory of
fiery eyes. Eyes that had been doused as if by a bucket of ice water by a
man Riddick could snap like a dry twig.
****
"Just what the fuck was that?" Batch asked. He looked at Caitlin
with the impatience of a chauvinistic male. He was utterly in control of
the situation, based solely on the existence of his penis and no one could convince
him otherwise.
"He bought me a drink. He's no one." Caitlin answered. Her eyes
rose to his face and were quickly averted. The scathing glare she received
was enough to tell her she was really in for it tonight.
"We need to get back to the ship. That converter you installed took a
crap and the captain is looking for someone to hang for it. Guess who's
been picked?" he sneered. With that he turned on his heel and strode
from the bar. The thought that Caitlin would not follow him obediently
never entered his mind.
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Close Quarters