Disclaimer: All characters pertaining to Pitch Black belong to USA Films.

Knife's Edge (Part 1)

Riddick moved right up behind her. His heat, his scent coiled around her like incense. She had to make a real effort not to shudder.

"I don't truly know what's gonna happen when the lights go out, Carolyn..." his mouth moved right next to her ear. "...but I do know that once the dyin' starts, this little psycho fuck-family of ours is gonna rip itself apart."

He shifted his weight, slowly, luxuriously. He raised his arms, placed his hands casually on the supports on either side of the shuttle, blocking her in. She swallowed hard as she felt him lean closer, his body almost touching hers. His face now grazed her other ear, his breath making her skin tingle with - what? Anticipation? She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on willing him out of here.

He spoke again, his voice a rumbling murmur in her ear. "So you better find out the truth. Come nightfall, you better know exactly who's standin' behind you."

Her eyes opened and cut quickly over to the monitor showing the progress of the hull integrity test. She tensed her arm to raise it, but before she could move, Riddick's hand flashed out, hitting in swift succession the correct buttons to abort the hull test and lock the hatch.

It took a second for Fry to register the fact she was now sealed in the shuttle, alone with a convicted murderer, unable to get to the hatch or reach any controls before he stopped her. If she screamed, no one would hear - the shuttle was soundproof, and anyone who could help was off somewhere either hiding from the suns or scavenging for supplies and equipment. She thought of trying an elbow in his gut, or maybe dropping and hitting him in the balls, but she knew he'd have his knife in her before she could twitch a muscle. What the hell did he want with her anyway?

As if answering her silent question, Riddick stepped closer, pressing his body against hers, his erection digging into her tailbone - and she knew. Then she felt the knife at her throat.

They stood like statues for a long moment, the killer's shiny blade poised just millimeters from the woman's soft white neck, her wildly pulsing jugular. She swallowed hard, and with that small motion, felt her skin touch the knife for a split second. She tried to calm herself, think clearly. She was going to be raped, or killed. Maybe both. Well, if rape was what he wanted, then he'd have to do it to a corpse. She wasn't about to stand still and take it, knife or no knife.

Fry moved fast, but he was faster. By the time she tensed herself to lunge, Riddick had whipped the knife away from her and replaced it with his other hand, gripping her throat tightly between his thumb and middle finger. She gasped, digging at the floor wth her toes and clutching blindly at his arm. He pulled her up tight against him, lifting her, tilting her head back painfully onto his shoulder. Again, he spoke close to her ear. "Be still, and I'll let you breathe."

Fry stopped struggling and hung there, her toes barely touching the floor, and Riddick eased his grip on her throat and lowered her gently until she could stand. Still clinging to his arm, she took a deep, grating breath and coughed, hardly aware when Riddick switched hands again, the knife raised once more to her jugular. His free arm slid around her, pulling her into him. He brought his hand to rest flat against her belly and held it there, saying nothing, as she recovered.

When her breathing was normal again, she rasped out, "Why don't you just kill me and get it over with, goddamit!"

Riddick laughed seductively into her ear. "I don't wanna kill you, Carolyn." She felt herself move once more against the knife blade, and Riddick's fingers spread out and started rubbing slowly in a circle on her belly.

"You have a *knife* at my throat." Fry tried to stand absolutely still. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of another struggle.

Riddick was silent for a moment, his hand still caressing her belly. "Hey, if I wanted you dead, I'da killed you already. The knife was just to get your attention."

Fry willed herself not to think about the obviously large erection jabbing uncomfortably into her back. "Why should I believe you?" she said, this time in a more normal voice.

"Cause I'm a killer...", he whispered into her ear, making her skin tingle. "..not a liar."

Riddick's hand continued the slow, caressing circles on her belly, pressing her even more tightly into him. "Now you - I dunno..." he sighed heavily into her ear. "*You* could be a liar. That's what I gotta find out." He started nuzzling her neck, his lips brushing the tender area below her ear.

Fry closed her eyes and swallowed hard again. Her voice shook a bit when she spoke. "What do you mean? When did I lie to you?"

He stopped the nuzzling and answered. "It's nothin' you've lied about already, Carolyn. It's what you might lie about now. What I gotta ask you."

"Well, ask it, then. Just get to the fucking point!" she was getting tired of this game, and of fighting her own arousal. She remained still, not wanting Riddick to know this.

The hand on her belly stilled, resting there. Riddick paused, seeming to consider things for a moment. He nodded. "Ok", he said, almost congenially. "I'll ask, you answer. Then I'll decide if you're lyin' to me. Fair 'nuff?"

"Fine", she replied. "But what happens if you don't believe me?"

Riddick chuckled, leaning his face into her shoulder. "Guess we'll find out." He brushed his lips across her cheek. "But I don't think you *can* lie to me."

Fry's mind ran through all the things he could possibly want to ask her about. Technical information? Her bank account number? Whether she was some kind of spy - what?

"Ready, Carolyn? 'Cause it's pop quiz time", Riddick said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Just do it", she said.

Riddick shifted his body again, moving his hand off Fry's belly and curling his arm snugly around her waist. His other hand still held the knife at her throat. Terrified as she was, Fry couldn't help mentally comparing his silken movements to those of a panther, or a snake. In a perverse way, she actually felt safe with him holding her like this.

"Remember, you gotta tell the truth."

"Fine."

"Ok, then. Here's your test question." He planted his lips directly on Fry's ear. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, scared of the raging heat that flared in her gut, scared that he might sense it. He spoke slowly, softly, deliberately, each word producing a tiny puff of air that made her shiver. "Do...you...want...me?"

Knife's Edge (Part 2)

Fry's head spun. Riddick's words echoed in her ears. She stared sightlessly ahead of her, not really believing she'd heard him correctly. Her stunned mind toyed for a fleeting second with the idea of saying, "Sorry - would you mind too awfully repeating that?", then dismissed it just as quickly.

Riddick said nothing. Riddick waited.

Without warning, Fry's knees buckled. Riddick tightened his grip around her waist, catching her. Still, he said nothing. He waited. He had time. And he already knew her answer.

Fry opened her mouth to speak, but could only manage a small, choked sound rather like a sob.

Now Riddick spoke up. "I'm waitin'."

She tried again to speak, but got only another strangled sound from her contricted throat. And then she was trembling uncontrollably, her knees ready to give out again. She gripped Riddick's powerful forearm for support, forgetting it was the one holding the knife. He held her up effortlessly.

Riddick shook her, whispering fiercely in her ear. "Come on, Carolyn. Answer the question."

In reply, she could only breathe raggedly and try not to fall down - not that he would let her.

Then, surprising her, Riddick loosened his grip, whipped her around to face him, and backed her up against one of the walls. She didn't notice the switches digging into her back, or the knife still hovering in front of her neck.

He slipped an arm around her, pulling her away from the wall and against him, positioning one of his legs between hers. Caught off balance, and not quite knowing what to do with her hands, she placed them on Riddick's chest, as if to push him away. But she didn't.

Fry looked up at him. She couldn't read his expression - not while he was wearing his protective goggles - but she was pretty sure by now that he could read hers. Still, he did nothing but stand there and wait for her to answer him. And she still had no idea what to say.

Riddick lowered his face to hers. She felt his hot breath, smelled his skin. "We made a deal, Carolyn - I ask, you answer."

He brushed his lips across hers, then moved them, butterfly-soft, over the rest of her face. Her trembling was getting worse. Still, he did nothing. He didn't try to take her, even though he could do it without much effort. It was plain that he could see her desire - yet he waited to hear her answer.

Finally, Riddick heaved a sigh and spoke. "Carolyn - "

She found her voice, made it work. "What?"

He paused before speaking again. "You *wanna* be raped, don't you?"

She looked at him, incredulous. "Wha - why would I want that?'

Reaching up with his knife hand, he ripped off his goggles. He grimaced in the half-light of the shuttle interior, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Dropping the goggles on the floor, he replaced the knife at Fry's throat. "'Cause that would make it so much easier on you."

She frowned and shook her head, not comprehending.

He shrugged. "I rape you, it ain't your fault. You can blame it all on me - you had no choice, I forced you, blah, blah, blah. You can bullshit yourself instead of just admittin' you got the hots for a piece of scum like me. Ain't that right?"

She looked down quickly and blushed, but Riddick, using the flat side of the knife blade, tilted her chin up so he could look directly into her eyes. "I don't even need this fuckin' knife." He raised the blade to show it to her. "Know why? 'Cause I can't rape someone who already wants me." And he threw it down. It slid across the shuttle floor and skidded to a stop by the hatch.

His knife hand now free, he slipped it behind Fry's head, then down to cradle the back of her neck. Her hands were still planted flat on his chest, but when he pulled her face into his as if to kiss her, she didn't push him away. And he didn't kiss her.

Their eyes remained locked. "I know you want me. *You* know you want me," Riddick said. "And I ain't leavin' this shuttle 'til I have you. But you gotta answer my question. I wanna hear you say it."

Fry didn't move. She couldn't. All she could do was stare stupidly into Riddick's eyes and wonder why her mouth wouldn't work.

And then he did kiss her.

A moan started deep in her chest and rose to her throat, muffled by his lips. She felt her control slipping crazily away, like a dropped coin disappearing into a deep pool. Of their own accord, her hands fluttered out from between them and reached around Riddick's neck, her arms coiling tighter and tighter as their kiss deepened. She thought she could hear drums somewhere, but it was only their pounding hearts, pressed so tightly together they felt like one giant pulse. Riddick crushed her body into his, lifting her until she was almost straddling his thigh.

He pulled away from her roughly, breaking the kiss. Making desperate little noises of anguish, Fry tightened her arms around his neck, trying to bring him back to her. "No", he whispered hoarsely.

"What? Why..." she panted.

"Answer the question. I gotta hear you say it, Carolyn."

She opened her mouth, but again found herself unable to speak. She was overwhelmed by the enormity of the words she had to say, the words he wanted to hear from her. Riddick searched her eyes, waiting - then he couldn't take it anymore, he had to kiss her again, and he did, over and over, whispering, "Say it, Carolyn. Say it. C'mon, just say it."

Riddick was distantly aware that he, a man who could take just about anything he wanted without a fight, was begging. Begging a woman, whom he could have taken whenever he liked, to tell him that she wanted him. He'd never needed those words from any woman - he knew they all wanted him, there was never a doubt. Yet here he was, bursting with desire, and waiting to hear this woman speak the words, this woman who had been ready to fling him into the desert to die, along with 39 other people, just to save her own life. This woman, who was like any other woman, like every woman he'd ever bedded - or was she?

Finally, between kisses, she managed to speak. "Yes."

Riddick pulled back abruptly and held her eyes. "What?"

Fry looked up at him, breathing hard, her face aglow, unafraid. "I want you."

He froze, just staring at her. What was it about the sound of her voice saying those words that stirred him? He couldn't remember a time when *anything* had affected him this much. But there was one more question to ask her.

"Do you trust me?"

Her eyes stayed locked on his, and she nodded. "Yes."

"Think about it...you sure you know what you're sayin'?" He held very still, reading her with all his sharpened senses.

"Yes. I do," she whispered.

And he believed her.

Knife's Edge (Part 3)

He took her roughly the first time. It had been far too long for him and he couldn't hold back, but Fry didn't care. For her, it was like rutting with a lion, or some other beautiful, powerful beast - it was urgent, primal, voracious for both of them. Her strong and eager response surprised him; she abandoned herself completely to her desire, and to his. Even with the soundproof shuttle walls, Riddick clamped his hand over her mouth when she came, arching her back and screaming, just to be sure no one heard. His own climax was just as intense, but he buried his face in Fry's shoulder to muffle his voice.

They lay together afterwards on the dirty shuttle floor, still joined and breathing hard from their exertion, her hands twined around his neck, his huge, powerful arms cradling her as she lay under him, gazing dreamily into his silvery eyes from beneath drowsy lids. Sweat soaked her hair, pasting it to her forehead and cheeks. More rained down on her from Riddick's drenched face, but she didn't care. She loved being bathed in his scent.

Fry smiled to herself as she considered the potential absurdity of her situation. Had a psychic said to her, "Carolyn, you will take a long journey, attempt to kill forty people, then screw a convicted multiple murderer in a dirty shuttle on a deserted planet, and love it," she would have laughed and passed it off as a party joke. Yet here she was. And yes, she did love it. Loved HIM.

She closed her eyes, feeling a stab of fear at the thought. Love? Is that what this was? Or maybe she was kidding herself. Maybe it was the heat of the moment fucking with her head. Maybe Riddick was just using her for relief, or to amuse himself until he got off this rock. But no - she'd said she trusted him. More, he had needed to hear her say it. Why would a man like Riddick need so desperately to hear those words? He could have raped her, and left it at that. Hell, she probably would have enjoyed it, too. But this was better, much better. Whatever *this* was.

Hers was not the only mind awhirl with conflicting thoughts. Riddick was trying to think how he had reached this point, how he could need someone the way he needed her. This wasn't like him. Or it had been once, but so long ago he couldn't even dredge up the memory. He'd fucked her - so what. He'd fucked dozens of women. But something he couldn't quite grasp had driven him into this shuttle and made him force Fry to admit her desire for him. It would have been faster and easier to just take her - he would have been out of here in five minutes, and Fry would have said nothing, he was sure of it. But something in him had wanted - needed - to know for sure that she wanted him, and for her to invite him inside her. It was too much to process right now. To be honest, it scared him. Badly. But here they were together, alone - and he didn't want to miss a moment of it.

He was still inside her, and still hard. This time would be even better. Fry was already starting to move under him, urging him to start again. He knew he'd been in the shuttle for only ten minutes or so. No need to hurry.

"Do it slow this time," Fry whispered. "Tease me..." she looked up at him, her face flushed, desire clouding her eyes.

Riddick smiled - a real smile, not his usual sardonic mask. Its effect was not lost on Fry. Her expression melted into one of...worship, almost...not the kind Jack so openly displayed, but something more...real. Something a man like him might not be worthy of. But he would think about that later. For now, he would lose himself, body and soul, in this woman, forget what he was, and, just maybe, move a little closer to what he used to be.

Knife's Edge (Part 4)

Riddick took his time, coaxing her again and again to the brink of orgasm, then backing off. Every few minutes he would stop, holding still inside her, watching her squirm and beg for him to please not stop, to please let her come. He was usually pretty good at holding back when he wanted to, but the sight of Carolyn Fry's rapturous face beneath him, pleading for release, was finally too much.

His climax hit without warning, roaring through him like a freight train. "Oh, SHIT!!!" he couldn't stop himself from yelling, forgetting to cover his mouth this time so no one would hear. Fry responded with her hips to his abrupt, maddened thrusting, twisting and bucking beneath him as his iron hands gripped her buttocks, fingers digging clawlike into soft flesh, slamming her into him. She came for the second time, the intensity of it leaving her breathless, unable to utter more than a few weak, birdlike cries.

Riddick finally collapsed on top of her, bracing himself with his hands on either side of her head. Fry lay limp and languid, eyes closed, arms flung out above her, reveling in the shimmering liquid fire coursing deliciously through her body. Her hair was soaked through with sweat, as was her shirt. She opened her eyes to look at Riddick, and smiled to see that he was in the same condition.

"Holy crap, look at us," she panted. "We look like we've spent all day in a Turkish steam bath."

Riddick responded with an evil grin. "Yeah, but I think we had a lot more fun than your average Turkish steam bather." He wiggled his eyebrows mischieviously for emphasis.

She giggled at that. She had never imagined him wearing such a...*human* expression. They lay there for a few moments, saying nothing, just smiling at each other and waiting for their breathing to normalize.

Then she remembered the time. Raising her arm, she squinted at her watch. "Shit...we've been in here for half an hour. We gotta get moving before Johns figures out where you are." Riddick rolled over onto his back as she sat up and searched for her pants.

"M-hm," he grunted back. He stayed on the floor, watching as Fry half stood, stooping to peek through the shuttle window as she nervously slipped back into her pants and shoes. "Oh, man..." she said under her breath. "Look at the fucking window." He lazily raised his hips off the floor, reached down and pulled his own pants up. The smell of sex wafted up to him as he zipped up and buckled his belt. He sighed heavily, then finally sat up and looked. The inside of the window was covered with steam. He chuckled. "Well, it may not be Turkish, but..."

Fry shot him a half smile over her shoulder as she walked to the shuttle controls and started setting up another hull integrity test. "Dammit!" she whispered, her smile fading. "We burned a lotta daylight here, I hope this thing doesn't take long." She turned to look at him again. "You staying?"

Riddick rolled languidly up onto his feet. "Nah." he replied. "Got work to do back on the chain gang with good ol' Johns." He bent down to scoop his goggles off the floor and started walking towards the rear hatch as Fry watched. Then he stopped and turned back to her, bracing himself in the doorway.

"Johns ain't a cop, ya know." Fry gave him a quizzical look.

"Oh, he's got that shiny badge an' all, but nah - " Riddick ran a hand over his head, wiping away sweat. "He's just a merc and I'm just a payday. That's why he won't kill me. The creed -" he slipped the goggles back on, "- is greed."

She gazed at him in silence, digesting this new information.

"Oh, and you might wanna ask him 'bout those shakes he's been havin'. And ask him why your crew-pal had to scream like that 'fore he died." Riddick turned, slapped the button to open the hatch, and sauntered out the back of the shuttle, bending to snag the forgotten knife as he left.

Teaser: New Mecca, New Life

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Chapters 23 - 24