Knife's Edge (Part 21)

Fry opened her eyes to darkness, and the distant sounds of children playing and people talking. Food was cooking somewhere, real food. The smell made her stomach growl. She yawned and stretched luxuriously. Damn, best night's sleep I ever had, she thought. She slid her legs back and forth under the warm, silky covers, loving the sensuous slide of them over her skin. Next to her she heard Riddick's breathing change as he woke up, too.

A sudden electric thrill sped through her as she recalled the events of the previous night. I'm staying, she told herself, just to see how it felt. I'm staying here with Riddick - for good. She almost laughed at the bubble of joy that rose up in her at the thought. He *wants* me to stay. He loves me... Then she did laugh.

"Funny dream?" Riddick asked, yawning and stretching.

She rolled over to face him. "Nope - no dreams, remember?" She kissed his shoulder, and he reached out his arm to her. She slid over and snuggled against him as she had the night before, but this time it felt better, safer. More real. And smellier. She clapped a hand over his mouth when he yawned again. "Jesus, Riddick."

He pulled her hand down, still yawning. "What?"

She put it back. "You *really* need to brush your teeth."

He grabbed her chin and pulled her face towards his. "C'mere, baby - gimme a biiiiig kiss," he muttered seductively through her fingers.

She yelped and struggled away from him as he laughed. "Aaaahhhh! You *asshole*! Yuck!"

He laughed harder, then grunted as she blindly whacked him somewhere in the region of his abdomen. "Hey, hey, hey...watch the jewels..." he said, grabbing her hand.

"Kiss my ass, you jerk!" she laughed, sitting up.

"Get back over here and I will."

"No way," said Fry. "Not til you wash out that - latrine of yours."

He laughed again. "Yours ain't exactly a rose garden."

"Well, yeah," she replied. "But I'm not pushing it in your face, either." She flopped back down on her side of the bed and listened to the muffled day sounds from outside. "Wonder what time it is.."

"Smells like lunchtime to me," said Riddick, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed. "And I'm ready for some *real* food." He rubbed his eyes and yawned again before getting up and walking to the bathroom. Fry listened as he used the urinal, flushed and then opened the cabinet by the shower stall. "Got some toothbrushes, if you're interested," he called to her.

"Ok, Mr. Shit-For-Breath." She heard him laugh as he turned on the water, then the sounds of tooth-brushing. With a final yawn and sigh, she got up and felt her way through the darkness to the bathroom, and the toilet. Riddick continued brushing as she relieved herself. "Do we have toothpaste?" she asked.

Riddick spat into the sink before he answered. "Sorta. Some kinda powder. Doesn't taste half bad." He resumed his brushing.

"I need the lights. How high can you take 'em?" asked Fry.

He spat again. "'Bout fifty percent."

She flushed the toilet and stood up. "Lights, fifty percent." The bathroom appeared around her, and she was treated to the sight of a nude Riddick bending over the sink as he brushed his teeth, bracing himself with one hand and squinting as he got used to the light. Her heart leaped as she reminded herself that she would be seeing this every day now. For the rest of my life, she thought. The rest of my life with him. My god... She swallowed hard - that would take a while to really sink in. And she still had to ask him about that mindlink thing he'd done with her last night. But for now, she let her eyes feast themselves on his sculpted body, running them slowly down his muscular frame and lingering on his legs.

Hm... something's different, she thought. What is it? She stared at his left thigh, trying to remember what it could be. Looking back up at his face, she saw that he'd stopped brushing and was giving her body the once-over as well. She blushed when she suddenly realized that this was the first time they'd actually seen each other naked. He bent over and spat, then straightened up to look at her again, smiling suggestively. A quick glance downward told her that his smile wasn't the *only* thing about him that was being suggestive.

She felt herself get wet immediately. Damn, how does he *do* this to me? He finished brushing and rinsed the sink, then opened the cabinet and took out another toothbrush and a small lidded container. He moved to stand behind her, reaching around her to place the items in her hands. Grasping her hips, he walked her over to face the sink, pressing himself into her back as he softly kissed her neck. She closed her eyes and found herself reliving that day on the shuttle when he'd first made his desire known to her. As he had then, he slid his hand around her to rest on her belly, rubbing it in slow circles. "Make it quick," he whispered, his lips grazing her ear, then gave her neck a lingering kiss and a tender nip before he left her alone to brush her teeth.

He didn't have to ask twice. In her hurried excitement, Fry didn't notice the taste of the tooth powder, or even what she looked like in the mirror. All she could think about was getting out of the bathroom and back into bed with him. She forgot to turn off the light on her way out, but it was just as well - she wanted to see everything this time.

He reclined on top of the covers, silvery eyes following her as she crossed the room in the half-light, his desire now even more obvious. Her heart pounded as she slid onto the bed and moved to lie beside him - but he had other ideas. Before she knew what was happening, he pushed her down onto her stomach and settled himself on her back, pressing her into the mattress as he kissed her neck and shoulders. His hips moved as he dug into her, seeking, and she raised herself to let him in. He moved slowly into her, savoring the feel of her nakedness against him, the yielding softness of the bed under them. Riddick was surprised at how excited he was to have her all to himself. His passion mounted as he recalled the intimacy of the night before, when he'd entered Carolyn's mind as he entered her flesh now; how he'd opened his mind to her as she now opened her body to him. He'd had a lot of sex in his lifetime, but nothing quite like this.

She moaned softly under him, grasping the bedclothes and pushing her buttocks up against him as he thrust into her. Already close to losing it, he heard again in his mind the words she'd spoken last night - I want you inside me - and felt himself go over the edge, lurching and gasping as the pleasure took him, his arms locking around Carolyn's body to pull her tightly into him as he spent.

They rolled sideways and lay there for a while as they waited for his breathing to return to normal. Fry still burned with desire, but she remembered his eagerness when they'd made love in the shuttle, and knew she wouldn't be disappointed. Sure enough, as soon as he'd recovered, she felt him slipping into her from behind again as his hand wandered up and down the front of her. She tilted her hips back against him, letting him know she was ready, but he didn't respond - he lay still and kept touching her all over, lingering between her legs to stroke her lightly, just enough to make her want more. She grabbed his hand and tried to press it against her, but he pulled it away. "What are you doing?" she growled. She was going mad with frustration.

"Thought you *liked* to be teased..." he murmured, flicking her ear with the tip of his tongue.

She gasped and tried to turn over and face him, but he held her there. She pounded her fist into the covers. "Please, don't do this, not now." She tried again to squirm out of his grasp, but he was too strong. They were finally alone together and horny as hell on a big, comfortable bed, and all she wanted was for him to take her right now - just roll her over and sock it to her - but he seemed determined to make her wait. She pushed back onto him, trying to make him start moving again, but he remained still.

"Quit playin' around, goddammit!" Fry struggled harder, but still got nowhere. "Please..." she whispered. "Please, just do it..."

"Do what, babe?" Riddick said softly, biting her neck and giving her a single quick thrust from behind.

Fry was close to weeping now - she couldn't remember ever being this horny. If he didn't do something soon, she was going to - well, she didn't know what, exactly, but it would likely involve lots of noise and a some kind of injury. She wished like hell she could get into his head the way he'd gotten into hers. You fucking bastard, she shot at him mentally. Why can't you just FUCK ME!!

Riddick froze. What the fuck??? Fry heard in her head.

You can *hear* me? said her mind-voice.

How'd you *do* that? Riddick said.

I dunno. Who cares. Just fuck me, I'm goin' crazy here...

He raised up and flipped her into her back. Her face looked as it had on the shuttle, when he'd made her squirm and beg under him, but this time there was more - her eyes flashed with animal ferocity, like she was ready to tear him apart to get what she wanted. When she reached for him, he grabbed her wrists and pinned her down on the bed with his body. She opened her legs and raised her hips, trying to get him back inside, but he wouldn't let her.

Damn you, Riddick - can't you see how much I want you? he heard in his head as she twisted under him.

Shut up, he said. I wanna try somethin'.

She stopped struggling and lay still beneath him, letting her head fall back onto the pillow with an exasperated sigh. *Again?* She glared up at him, panting with lust. Hurry up, dammit, I can't take this.

Be still for a minute, he said. Don't move.

Fry moaned and rolled her eyes in frustration, but did as he asked. Riddick let go of her wrists and braced himself with his hands on either side of her. Settling onto his knees, he carefully entered her again. Her eyes closed, and she threw back her head as she hissed in through her teeth and gripped his arms. She was trembling now - he could tell she wanted to start moving. Be still, he reminded her. Her desire licked at his mind like tongues of flame, threatening his control.

Look at me, he said. She did, and their eyes locked and held. He sent her an image of molten lava tracing a slow, syrupy, glowing path down the cone of a live volcano. That's me, he told her. Where are you?

She responded with a vision of warm ocean waves lapping the sands of a deserted beach somewhere below the volcano. Riddick held still inside her, coaxing the bright snake of lava carefully downward towards the beach.

Wait for me, he whispered in her head. Let me come to you.

Her breath came fast and shallow as her fingers dug hard into Riddick's arms - it took all her effort to hold back her ocean from letting go and pounding the shore as it wanted to. But she made herself wait, certain that whatever was about to happen would be better than anything she'd ever known or imagined. Hell, it was *already* better. Please hurry, her mind-voice begged him. I can't hold it much longer.

The lava continued its achingly slow journey to the beach, singeing everything it touched. Fry felt each burst of flame as the molten rock burned its way through the trees waving by the shore, then pure heat as it rolled languidly onto the sand, just above the waterline - and stopped.

"No, no, no...don't stop it...no, please..." Fry said aloud, panting furiously, her eyes still locked on Riddick's. Every muscle in their bodies vibrated with the delicious, razor-sharp agony of teetering on the edge. They both trembled uncontrollably now. More than anything, Riddick wanted to just grab her hips and plunge into her over and over, but he forced himself to remain motionless inside her as he held the lava flow in place, making it hover there, melting a glassy furrow into the sand.

Fry felt it, too, deep in her womb - the white-hot sizzle, the radiant heat that refused to come any closer and give her the release she needed. Riddick lowered himself until his face was almost touching hers. Ready?

Yes, do it, do it! her mind shouted back at him.

With the lightest of touches, he inched the lava down onto the beach, letting it sneak over the waterline just enough to turn the edges of the lapping waves to steam when they surged around it. He was on fire, body and mind, and that fire wanted the water, wanted very badly to quench itself there. The lava crept further along, almost to the ocean itself now. Fry's breath came in great shuddering gasps through gritted teeth, and her hands clutched blindly at Riddick's arms. Tears of frustration spilled down her face. Finally, Riddick could wait no longer, and let the lava go cascading down the shore and into the tossing waters. Ocean and molten rock met and mixed. Giant waves reared up and crashed on the shore, flinging spray up to the volcano's smoking summit. In his last moment of clarity, Riddick reached up and clapped a hand over Carolyn's mouth, pressing his own tightly into her shoulder. Last thing they needed was someone bangin' on the damn door at the wrong moment.

And they were gone, lost to the world around them, turning over and around, inside and out, not knowing if they were having the orgasm, or it was having them. Riddick was distantly aware of his hand vibrating, and fuzzily remembered it was the one holding back Carolyn's screams. Her own detached awareness made passing notice of a similar vibration in the area of her shoulder. The whirlwind of pleasure seemed to go on forever, making no distinction between flesh and mind.

Eventually, they came down. That's exactly how it felt, too - floating, fluttering, seesawing in midair like a feather in a breeze as they fell weightlessly back to earth, passing through cloud after cloud of ebbing sensation to land at last on the soft bed, where they lay holding each other, learning how to breathe again. With some effort, Riddick raised his head to look at Carolyn's face. Beautiful, he thought. He ran his thumb tenderly over her lips as she smiled lazily and half-opened her eyes to look at him. She looked different, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly how - he was still a bit dazed.

He stretched out his legs and rolled sideways to lie on the bed, draping an arm across her stomach. They lay that way for a long time, immersed in the feeling as their buzzing skin and beating hearts gradually calmed down. Fry turned her head to look at him in the light spilling out from the bathroom door and smiled when she saw the sweat covering him - it reminded her of their 'Turkish steam bath' on the shuttle. I love you, she mouthed soundlessly to him. I love you, he mouthed back. Ok, so he didn't actually *say* it, she thought, but I got to see his mouth forming the words - that's something, at least.

Riddick studied Carolyn's face, letting his eyes linger on every detail. He idly wondered why he'd never noticed the soft shading of her lips, or the striking blue of her eyes. She gazed adoringly back at him, reaching up to touch his face. He kissed her fingers as she trailed them over his lips. Then her expression changed to a frown of confusion, swiftly followed by wide-eyed wonder, then alarm. She froze in place, her blue eyes locked on his. Blue eyes...she has blue eyes. How do I know that? I can't *see* stuff like that.

Fry suddenly sat up, grabbing his hand as she pulled him up off the bed. "Come here," she said in a tense, shaky voice. She sounded scared.

"What...???" Riddick said as he got up to follow her.

She pulled him into the bathroom, and examined his face closely in the light. She was still shaking, but this time with fear. "Look in the mirror." He gave her a questioning look and started to say something, but she cut him off. "Just do it."

He did.

And as he did, Fry happened to glance down at his left thigh, and realized what was different - his wounds were gone. Not even a scar remained. It was like they'd never been there at all. "My god, Riddick, your leg...what happened to your leg?" she managed in a strangled whisper.

Riddick didn't answer. He couldn't. He was trying to process what he saw in the mirror before him. He raised his hand to touch the glass, as if it would help somehow. All it did was confirm that the mirror was indeed real, and so was the image reflected in it.

Fry backed up and sat down numbly on the toilet, raising her eyes to watch Riddick as he stared at his reflection.

"Ok, Riddick...you wanna tell me what the *fuck* is going on now?"

Knife's Edge (Part 22)

Fry's question fell on deaf ears - Riddick was in shock.

He stood motionless and wide-eyed before the mirror, barely breathing, his fingertips resting on the glass as he tried to make sense of what he saw there. He wore an expression of childlike wonder mixed with fear and disbelief. He lowered his trembling hand and stared again for a few moments before backing away from the mirror, shaking his head. When he thumped against the wall, he stopped and sagged there, dumbfounded, eyes still locked on his reflection.

"Riddick?" Fry repeated. "Are you ok? What's going on?" Her voice trembled - his behavior was really spooking her now. She stood up slowly and walked over to him, laying a hesitant hand on his arm. "You're scaring me. Can you *please* just tell me what happened to you?"

He started laughing helplessly, rubbing his hands over his head as he watched his mirror image do the same. "Jesus fuckin' Christ on a pony..." he said. "I don't fuckin' *believe* this shit..." He laughed harder, unable to stop, leaning over and bracing himself with his hands on his bent knees. "Aw, man...why'm I even fuckin' *surprised*..." He stayed like that for some time, trying to catch his breath as his laughing fit got worse.

After a while, he calmed down a bit and straightened up, rubbing his hand over his face as if to wipe off his smile. He looked back at the mirror and shook his head. "Un-*fuckin'*-believable..." A few more bursts of laughter escaped from behind his hand before he was finally able to keep a straight face. He turned to look at Carolyn, who stood there frightened and confused, searching his face, her mouth open as if to say something. He took her hand and squeezed it.

There's a lot I gotta tell you, she heard in her head.

"No shit," she said aloud.

Don't be scared, he said in her mind again. Nothin' bad's goin' on here.

"Talk to me," she said. "I won't be afraid if you just tell me what's happening."

She was obviously scared, but she was also still here. She wasn't about to let anything drive her away, that much was clear by now. And she had to know eventually - they couldn't possibly live together without her finding out. "Let's go back in the bedroom," he said.

Riddick settled himself on the edge of the bed in the half-light from the bathroom, elbows on knees, rubbing the back of his neck and wondering where to start. Fry sat down cross-legged beside him, waiting. Finally he sat up and looked at her, and she felt him creeping back into her head like before.

"No, not like that, " she said. "I want you to *tell* me." Riddick's face fell a bit as he realized how difficult this was really going to be. "Look," said Fry, "You have to talk to me *sometime* - it might as well be now."

He sighed heavily and flopped back to lie on the bed, covering his face with his hands as he tried to sort out his jumbled thoughts. Fry stretched out to lie on her stomach beside him. "You *could* start by telling me how you get in my head like that. Could you always do that?"

"No," he said from under his hands.

"So what happened?" she pressed. "You just - " she shrugged - "figured it out by accident, learned how to do it - what?"

Riddick took his hands away from his face and rested them on his stomach as he considered his answer. "Carolyn..." he started, then stopped and blew out a breath, not sure how to continue. "It's just - " he threw up his hands and let them flop back down - "I dunno, it's a *long* fuckin' story." He turned his head to look over at her. "You're prob'ly not gonna believe it."

She held his gaze. "After everything that's happened between us, I think I might."

They lay looking at each other for a long moment. Riddick searched her face and her mind for any sign that she was afraid of him, but found none. "Ok," he said finally. "You asked for it." And he told her about the Tasters.

When he came to the really weird parts he had a hard time describing (there were *lots* of those), he sent her a mental picture of what had happened at that particular moment so she'd understand, and know it was real. It took him almost an hour to tell her everything, beginning with the dream he'd had on the shuttle. Fry was quiet for a long time after he finished, a thoughtful look on her face as she digested this new information. Riddick waited, not knowing what to expect. He wanted to touch her mind again and see what was going on in there, but forced himself not to. She needed time to collect her thoughts and decide what to say to all this.

She moved closer to him, shifting herself to lie on her side. "Show me," she whispered against his skin. She raised her hand and held it up over his chest. "Lights." The room leapt into view, fully illuminated. Riddick instinctively squeezed his eyes shut, then slowly blinked them back open. The pain he'd expected wasn't there.

Fry's hand remained suspended over him. He raised his own to touch it, caressing it gently at first, then pressing more firmly until his hand disappeared into her flesh, as Kate's had into his. She gave a surprised gasp, but didn't pull back. "Oooohhhhh...it's so *warm*..." she said in an awed whisper. With great care, Riddick moved his hand down through her wrist, then her arm, stopping at her elbow. "How do you *do* that?" she asked.

"I dunno," Riddick answered. "I just think about doin' it, and it happens."

She pulled her arm slowly away from his hand and sat up to face him. "C'mere," she said. " I wanna try something."

He raised himself to a sitting position. "That's *my* line," he said with a weak laugh. His smile disappeared when she started pulling his hand towards her chest. "Hey, wait a minute - what are you doin'?" He tried to pull away from her, but she wouldn't let go.

"Please - I want you to," she said. "I wanna see what it feels like." She tugged insistently at his hand. After hesitating for a moment, he reluctantly let it go. Why not, he thought. I put it right through Kate's head, and she's ok. And *she* said she does this all the time.

Fry laid Riddick's hand flat between her breasts and held it there a moment. She felt it heat up, and then came a curious sensation, as if very warm water was being poured directly into her chest. She took a deep breath, and felt the tingling heat in her lungs as well. "Can you feel my heart?" she asked him.

He focused his awareness until his fingers detected the pulsing organ. Moving his hand carefully over to rest above it, he closed his fingers around her heart, clasping it as gently as possible against his palm. He thrilled to the feel of the slippery flesh beating with life, pushing against his fingers like a plump, fluttering bird trying to escape from his hand.

He looked up at Carolyn, and she started laughing, not knowing how else to react to the warm electric tickle that radiated through her now every time her heart beat. "My heart's in your hand," she said, giggling, "literally." Riddick laughed too; he felt like a kid again, something he hadn't felt in - hell, he couldn't remember how long. Too long. After a few more beats, he carefully withdrew his hand from her chest and let it rest on her skin. As they sat there grinning at each other, Fry felt a sudden sense of deja vu. When had she done this before? She frowned slightly, trying to remember. For some reason, a snatch of poetry leapt up from the past - something she'd memorized. For school? she thought. No, not school...where the hell *did* I learn that?

Riddick noticed the sudden faraway look in her eyes. "Hey, where'd you go?" he asked teasingly, giving her chest a playful little shove.

She shook her head and looked up at him. "I dunno..." she said distractedly, her face still wearing a slight frown. "Just a little deja vu." She shook her head again, laughing a little, pressing his hand more firmly against her chest and rubbing it. "Some poetry I learned when I was a kid." She shrugged. "Just popped into my head for some reason."

"What is it?" asked Riddick.

"Hmmmm...lemme see if I can remember..." Fry tilted her head back, looking up at the ceiling and pursing her lips as she thought. She looked back at him after a moment. "Ok... it's uh..." She wore a frown of concentration now. "What thou...wait, lost it, shit...hang on..." she sat frowning again for a moment - "ok, here we go - What thou lov'st well remains..." She paused again, looking down and biting her lip, trying to dredge up the rest of it.

Riddick's heart beat faster when he heard those few words, and he wasn't sure why - but he knew them, too. He lifted one of her hands and held it to his chest as she was doing with his. Then she looked up at him and remembered the rest:

"What thou lov'st well remains, the rest is dross. What thou lov'st well - "

" - shall not be reft from thee..." Riddick said along with her.

They both stopped, hearts pounding, eyes locked. After a tense moment, they said the last line together:

"What thou lov'st well is thy true heritage."

A long moment passed before Fry cleared her throat and spoke again. "Ezra Pound."

"Canto 81," Riddick replied in a barely audible whisper.

Carolyn's eyes widened in shock as tears welled up and spilled down her face. She was visibly shaking now. She swallowed hard and tried to speak, but couldn't. When she finally made her voice work again, it came out in a croaky whisper. "When I was eight years old, I lived in Chicago with my aunt for a year because my parents were away on assignments and couldn't take me with them."

"Angela Bryant. She was a librarian," Riddick replied quietly. He was shaking now too.

"But you saw that when you were in my head, didn't you? That's how you know, right?" Her wet eyes flicked desperately back and forth over Riddick's face.

He shook his head. "I didn't go in that deep." He hesitated for a moment, then continued. His heart was really going now. "I went to her house once, after your mom took you away, to read a book and have one o' those vanilla cookies she was always makin'." He swallowed hard and tried to breathe normally. "She was in the livin' room going' through a box o' jewelry. Showed me a little heart necklace with a ruby in it..."

Carolyn's free hand flew up to cover her mouth.

Riddick continued. "Said it used to be your grandmother's, and you were gonna get it when you turned sixteen. She said you didn't know, it was s'posed to be a surprise."

Carolyn's eyes squeezed shut, and her face crumpled as she choked back a sob.

"She sent it to you, didn't she?" he asked, his voice starting to go.

She nodded, her eyes still closed.

"Holy fuck..." he breathed out shakily. His eyes were wet, too.

It all came back to him now with lightning speed and painful clarity. He remembered everything, just as he knew Carolyn did - the afternoons spent sitting in trees, trying to identify the different birds they saw; their little game of running as fast as they could with one of her legs tied to his, and laughing like idiots when they fell down; kicking a ball around in her aunt's tiny fenced back yard as her equally tiny dog chased it.

More than anything, though, he remembered devouring book after book, both printed and electronic. Aunt Angie, as they called her, had plenty of both in her home - and access to millions more, being a big-city librarian - and she loved sharing them. Lord of the Rings had been one of his favorites, but it had taken him forever to finish, since he'd only recently learned to read, thanks to Angela's patient tutoring. Learning hadn't been a priority in his home - if you could *call* it a home.

That year he'd all but lived at Angela's house, eating most of his meals there, sometimes running the five blocks from his tiny, filthy apartment on the nights his "parents" decided to have another drunken brawl, climbing the tree outside Carrie Anne's window to sneak in and share her soft, sweet-smelling little bed. It was the only truly peaceful sleep he'd ever known, drifting off as he breathed in the scent of her clean, silky hair on the pillow next to him.

Then Carrie Anne's mother, a tall, overdressed, miserable woman who wore too much perfume, had returned - minus her husband - to take her daughter away with her. She'd stayed at Angela's for a while, and sometimes the children had huddled together fearfully in Carrie Anne's bed at night, listening as the two women argued loudly downstairs. Apparently, Mr. Bryant - Angela's brother and Carrie Anne's father - was now living with some other woman, and wouldn't be coming back. Angela wanted Carrie Anne to stay. Her mother disagreed, and arranged for the two of them to leave as soon as she could get a new assignment.

That's when they'd made their Promise. They said it and wrote it just like that, with a capital P, because it was Important, and so they'd never forget. The poetry had been Carrie Anne's idea - she'd always been a romantic at heart. She'd first heard that bit while Angela was reading it aloud to her before bed. She'd made her stop and tell her what it meant, and decided it was the perfect thing to use as a Secret Code in case they found each other again, so they'd know it was really them.

For weeks before Carrie Anne had left, they'd practiced those few lines, reading from the paper copy she kept folded up in her pocket, then saying it from memory as they sat face to face, their hands on each others' hearts. That was her idea too - she said that's what you did when you made a Promise. It meant you could never, ever break it, no matter what. Then, without warning, she was gone. Angela told him later that they'd left in the middle of the night. Her mother had called later to say her assignment had come through and they'd had to leave right away to catch a transport.

He'd visited after that, of course, but it wasn't the same. When he read, he'd find himself drifting off in the middle of a sentence, wondering where Carrie Anne was, what she was doing, and if she missed him as much as he missed her. He felt emptiest inside on those nights he would have spent huddled beside her in her bed, hiding from the drinking and yelling back home. On one of his reading visits, he'd secretly gone up to her old room and unlatched her window from the inside, then sneaked back in that night by climbing the tree when he'd made sure Angela was sleeping. He'd snuggled down into the bed, burying his face in the pillow that still bore the scent of Carrie Anne's hair. He'd lost count of how many times he'd done this. If Angela had ever found him there, she hadn't mentioned it.

And every day, he practiced the lines from Canto 81 by the poet Ezra Pound, their Secret Code. He was sure that someday he'd find Carrie Anne again, and he wanted to be ready when he did. His head swam with childish visions in which he rescued her from her awful, smelly mother, and they ran away together to live secretly with Angela, who of course would hide and protect them. Once he'd asked her if Carrie Anne was ever coming back to visit. "I don't think so," she'd answered sadly. "Her mother married someone else, and they went away to live on his homeworld."

"How far away is it?" he'd asked.

"Too far," she'd replied. "Many, many light years from here." She'd looked so sad then, like she was about to cry. "We probably won't ever see her again." Touched by the stricken look on the child's face, she'd pulled him into her lap and hugged him tight.

"I wish I could live with you," he'd said.

She'd hugged him even tighter. "I wish you could too," she'd said, and kissed him hard on the cheek.

One night, when he was about twelve, he'd climbed the tree outside Carrie Anne's old room, and found the window locked. Peering in from his perch, he saw it was now being used for storage - her bed had been taken apart and stashed in a corner, and boxes were stacked everywhere. After that, he'd pretty much given up on ever seeing her again. His visits had tapered off, and his life had started down the long, dark path to Richard B. Riddick, Escaped Convict and Murderer.

The path that had led him to Slam City, to the Hunter-G - and right back to Carrie Anne Bryant.

Carolyn Fry, now. He'd wanted her the first time he'd laid eyes on her, and hadn't even known why - but he knew now. Knew why he'd made her confess her feelings for him that day in the shuttle; why he'd struggled with his decision to leave her behind; why he'd been overwhelmed by relief when they'd made it off the planet together. And why, when she'd been ready to leave him, he couldn't let her go.

And he felt shame, more than he thought himself capable of, now that he finally understood who and what it was he'd almost thrown away in that alien place. He felt her shame and guilt, too, as they sat here with their hands on each others' hearts, just as they had when they'd made their Promise all those years ago.

They'd Promised - and when they finally met again, they'd almost killed each other.

Almost.

She was on him before either of them knew what was happening, straddling his lap, squeezing him so hard he could barely breathe. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..." her voice trailed off into sobs. "I didn't know...Oh, god...I didn't know it was you..." Her body convulsed with her weeping.

Riddick held her as tightly as he could without hurting her, his own tears flowing now as he wept soundlessly against the curve of her neck. He didn't speak. He didn't even think. All he could do right now was feel - something he hadn't allowed himself to do for most of his life. This was a luxury, an indulgence, for which he'd shown the utmost contempt when he saw it in others, dismissing them as weak.

But things were different now. *He* was different now, there was no use denying that, especially to himself. And he sure as hell didn't *feel* like a weakling. He felt strong - strong beyond the wildest superhero imaginings of his brief, tortured childhood.

So this is love, he thought.

I think I fuckin' like it.

Teaser: New Mecca, New Life

Chapters 1-4 Chapters 5 - 9 Chapters 10 - 14 Chapters 15 - 18
Chapters 23 - 24