Title: Scent
Author: Kora aka livingdeadgirl
Email: KrazyKora AT aol.com
Rating: MATURE
Summary: Riddick remembers what drew him to Fry.
Disclaimers: I do not own Riddick, Fry, or anything - I am a sad, sad little girl.
Author's notes: Been wanting to do a 'Pitch Black' ficlet for a while. This is from Riddick's POV - so bear with me, hopefully I nailed the voice. Also keep in mind - the guy's a killer, so it's only natural he'd be a bit vulgar. Hope you enjoy it anyway! ;-)
Feedback: Um…I'm kind of scared to get it, still blushing over some words I used in this!


Ship's on autopilot, the kid and the holy man are asleep and that leaves me in the one place I don't want to be. My own thoughts. 'Cause if I start thinking, it's only a matter of time before my thoughts are gonna go straight to her.


Just repeating the name in my mind is like hitting me in the heart with an ice pick. Hey - that's something. Didn't think I had a heart to feel anymore. But then, why did it lurch when I saw her being drawn back into the darkness? Why did my chest clench when she sacrificed herself and those words that left my mouth and into the night air: Not for me. Not for me.

I remember the first time I smelled her. When everyone else was in cryosleep, I was awake. That primal part of me kept me conscious. I had a bead on everyone - the hoodoo holy man, Johns, the lady prospector.

I smelled sweat, boots, tool belt, leather and that distinct feminine scent. Shazza smelled nice all right, but no where near as good as Carolyn. I never managed to get a bead on her when we were on ship. Somehow she managed to allude my senses and that made me curious.

That was why when we crash-landed and I made my escape, when they went looking for me and she was so close, so close, I had to pick off those strands of her hair. Took a blonde little haystack finger full. Brought them to my nose, inhaled, got so high I might as well have injected it into my veins. Would have flown off the planet - leastwise in my own head.

Curiouser and curiouser I grew about this damaged little girl who tried so hard to act the tough pilot captain. Wanted to explore her, know her inside and out. Get under that porcelain skin, tug that short mane in my hands, breathed it in deep, tip her head back, cover her bared throat with bites…

Instead I ended up getting caught and she came to me. Can still be there if I want, if I think hard enough. They had me chained up in the bulkhead; no goggles and my eyes closed. In most ways I'm like a blind man, the job they did to my eyes left it so that all my other senses heightened.

That's why I can hear someone far off, why scent has become so vital to me, and like I said, she smelled like crushed, crystal bliss. If she was a drug I'd be an addicted junkie real quick, no way to fight back the demon. But thankfully she was just a woman, and a woman can be torn apart. She came with questions and I drew her in closer and closer still, the smell stronger with each hesitant step she took.

Her skin had broken into a sweat, mixing into the natural scent of her. Could imagine the perspiration on her flesh, droplet after droplet rolling down that smooth skin to rest between the valley of those small, lush breasts, gather there. Slightly uncomfortable, begging to be wiped away with a hand, or maybe my mouth. And I could hear her heartbeat pound in her chest like the flutter of a bird's wings…

So sweet, so tempting, scared little rabbit just out of reach coming closer and closer…

Maybe that's why I had to spring up and surprise her. Couldn't stand the suspense any longer, hold back any longer. And the fear changed her scent real quick and it was better than it'd ever been before, so strong, overwhelming, rippling through veins…

Chains saved her, if not for them I would have ravished her on the spot. But then, the Kid was there too. Cute kid. Don't think I would have torn apart Carolyn with her there. Or would I?

Sometimes it's hard to untangle the killer from the man. The beast from the human. Maybe that's because these days they're diluting together more and more. Soon they'll be one.

Or maybe not now, considering what that woman gave up…

When I'd been behind her in the cockpit, breathing in that scent again, hearing that heart a second time and her uneven breathing, been so close to that skin and heat of her, wanted so badly that my dick was about ready to bust from my pants.

Been a long time since I'd been that hard.

Not since I was not that much older than the Kid. But damn if Carolyn didn't get me that way. She stood behind the name Fry, another part of the little girl 's act to pretend to be a ballbusting captain, but truly under all that she was Carolyn. The woman. The desire. The fucking reason I was hard and without relief.

And I wanted it. When I had her under me in that rain, in the mud, I was about ready to take her right there. Darkness-thriving aliens all over the goddamn place and all I wanted to do was fuck her until she came apart in my arms.

I had envisioned it in my mind over a hundred times since I'd come into contact with her. Maybe she'd come willingly, maybe not - either way I'd take her. My mouth would seize hers, tongues fighting or caressing. Hands everywhere - all over, touching, fondling, teasing…

And I'd find that hot honey between her legs and run my fingers through it, bathe my mouth in it and then I'd sink in so deep, so true until she felt like I was touching her heart. Then we'd make some rhythm and she'd get there so blindingly, white quick she'd literally scream my name and break the sound barrier.

Then I'd come and keep coming until it was all out of me. Until my dick stopped throbbing, stopped being so hard and in her find release. But that's just a wet dream, a fantasy of a man who's been in slam too long and came across this mystery woman who smelled too delicious to be true, who ended up dying for me…


I had imagined and could continue to imagine what'd be like to have had her a hundred times, hundred different ways but it'd make no difference. It'll never happen.

'Cause it's too late.

Too late.


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