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Strong Coffee	By : OnyxWildcat Category: M through R > Pitch Black Views: 1274 -:- 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
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-Her Perspective-

It’s been about twenty minutes since I was woken up to this… nightmare. Should I call it that? This…all of this, is just fucking insane. Have I completely lost my mind? First time in a weeks I actually fall asleep. I’m talkin’ about full on, knocked on my ass, dead sleep. And the next thing I know I wake up to a weird sensation of being watched. Which, when I come to think about it, not so weird. It happens all the time, seeing as I’m naturally Very empathic and I can sense my spiritual guardians keeping watch. But this, is totally different. It’s one thing to sense my animal guardians, it’s another to see the dark silhouette of a man that shouldn’t even exist. Yea you better bet your ass you’d be about ready to crawl out of your skin too. I damn near had a full on panic attack. Actually…I think it was a mixture of a full on Anxiety Attack as well as a full forced Panic Attack. No wonder I started crying. Just so you know, I never cry. I’ve become so calloused with that particular show of emotion that it’s damn near impossible to get me to squeeze out a few tears. Especially if someone dies. I’ll be the only dry face in the house.

I’m sitting here in my comfy chair across from him in the living room. Left leg tucked under my right leg, coffee cup in my left hand resting on my left thigh, as a cigarette glows softly between the fingers of my right hand. All the while my TV screen is shut off, the blank face mirroring our reflections. He’s sitting across from me on the coach, his elbows resting on his knees as his chin rests casually on his knuckles. He’s just…staring at me…with those eyes. My apartment, seeing as it’s my personal cave, is just dark enough to where he can leave his goggles off.

Why is this happening? My brain is having a hard time rationalizing this. Hell even my very accepting side is baffled. I guess that means my brain and soul are in agreement that something is seriously not right. It goes against everything I’ve been led to believe.

His voice…THAT voice, tears me away from my blurry thoughts.

“Ash your cigarette.” He says calmly, his eyes never leaving me.

I look at my hands and notice my cigarette burned out. “Oh…” I reply in a breath and put the dead cig into the ash tray and take a long drink of my coffee, which at any other time, would taste like battery acid. I made it VERY strong this time, and opted to skip milk and sugar altogether.

I glance over at him and notice him drain his cup of coffee. He makes a face that at any other time, would have made me laugh. “Damn woman! This shit can clean out a first class star freighter.” He muses and mimics my sitting position. “Hell if I had coffee like this back in slam, I would have taken everybody out in a matter of hours.”

I chuckle…finally getting more at ease in his presence. “Never heard of it described like that before…” I crack a smile and drink down the rest of my cup, finally tasting how strong I’ve made it. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

A smile begins to emerge from his full lips. “Good, I like to see you smile.” Riddick says in a very low, yet tender voice. One that I never thought I’d hear in my entire lifetime. “Would you like another cup?” He asks and is suddenly standing, the cup I gave him looking very small in his hands.

“Uh, sure.” I reply, still somewhat dumbfounded that he’s being so…I don’t know how to put this any other way…sweet to me. “Let me show you where everything is.”

I get up, cup in hand and lead him into my small kitchen, which appears to get much smaller with him in it. Without saying a word I take his cup, careful not to brush my hands against his, and poor the rich coffee into both mugs. I daze off, almost a trance like state as I place the coffee pot back in its place, open the frig, get out the milk. I set it down on the counter next to the steaming cups and turn my back on him, go to the cupboard, open it, get out the sugar, close the cupboard, and place the sugar next to the milk. I’m going through a natural routine without really thinking about it as I get out my favorite spoon and then look at him. Snapping completely back to the current situation.

There’s that damned smile again. “Make it the way you like it.” He purrs and leans his upper body against the wall, his arms held loosely over his massive chest of powerful muscle. Oh boy…

I instinctively go through the motions again. A little bit of milk, and just enough sugar to counter the strength of the rich dark liquid. I take a sip of each cup, checking to be certain, and once satisfied I hand him the larger of the two mugs which still seems small in his paw like hands. “You’re very precise on how you do things…” He goes to place the edge of the cup to his lips and adds, “I admire that.” and finally takes a long drink. He closes his eyes and lets out a sound that can only be described as a deep rumbling growl like purr of appreciation. “Mmm now this…is the good stuff. Anyone ever tell you, you make one hell of a cup of coffee?”

I smile, actually, truly smile. “Yes…but coming from you, makes it a whole new experience.” I reply and lean my body against the sink counter, cup in both hands. The warm surface sending little tendrils of heat into my system. “Now that I’m somewhat coherent… Or at least more awake… I’d like to apologize for my reaction earlier.” My voice is firm, rational and thoughtful.

He nods while swallowing down another mouthful of coffee. “Think nothing of it.” That smile appears again and I find myself smiling back, but I realize this and bring my eyes to my feet. Finding the kitchen floor suddenly very fascinating.

“Hey…” I hear his voice right in front of me, so strong, so real.

I nearly drop the cup in my hands when his fingers…the very fingers that have been known to kill a man… Become so gentle as they touch the bottom of my chin and slowly ease my eyes up to meet his. I swallow hard and feel my heart thunder behind the confines of my ribcage. “You gonna be ok?” It’s his tone… I can’t even describe it. He sounds concerned, gentle, and loving almost. This is REALLY freaking me out.

“Uh…yea. I’ll be ok.” I manage to force out in a strained whisper. I sound emotionally exhausted. I know it, and he knows it. I suddenly remember the look on his face, the same one he’s wearing now… Vulnerable. How odd… But wait a minute…didn’t he say something about being in love earlier? No… No he couldn’t have… Did he? Shit I can’t remember! I was half rational at that point. Oh dear…his brow just furrowed. He’s giving me an odd look. Does he know what I’m thinking? Can he feel it? Oh shit…oh shit oh shit…

His voice deepens, growling almost. It trickles through my nerves sending fire through my veins. “I think we need to go sit down and have a talk.” He’s very direct and I have absolutely no problem complying.

How would you react if you had a Beast of a man standing in front of you, asking you…but really Telling you in a very commanding tone to go sit and have a talk? How would you feel? I sure as hell don’t feel too confident in my sponge bob square pants pajamas…that’s for damned sure. I’m about as dangerous as a dust bunny faced with a vacuum cleaner.

Grr…fear me. Riiiight. Like that’s gonna happen.

I am so screwed…

-End Chapter Two-
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Strong Coffee