Talk to Me

AN: Looks like it’s update time. This silly fic is having a hard time deciding what it wants to be, romance or comedy, and I’m not doing anything to help it make up its mind, since I like both. I’ll just let it be and see where it goes. It’s really fun to write, especially Dax. Thanks for the reviews, everybody!

cindy: Thanks! I luv ottsel Dax, too. He’s just so overwhelmingly squeezable. Never surrender teh furry!

VeryNaughtyOttsel: Aww, thank you! There are stories out there much better than this one, though. Ones that aren’t so… not-serious like. *sweat-drop* But I’m still very happy you think it’s that good.

V. Ezmerelda: Thanks! I love to get comments (good and bad) on the actual writing. Plot is most important, but I kind of obsess over grammar, spelling and such. Glad I’m doing okay!

Black_silken_kitty: In that case, wait no more, for here is chapter two. And I like your screen name. Reminds me of the little black devil-beast that shares my house… I do love his ebil wittle kitty self, though. Sharp teeth included.

Disclaimer: Characters, names, and places still belong to Naughty Dog. I still make no profit from writing this. In fact, I’m positive it’s helping to give me carpel tunnel, so I’ll wind up paying in the long run, for medical expenses.

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Daxter was dreaming.

In his dream, Jak had changed into dark eco beast form and, snarling ferociously, cornered Samos up a tree. Daxter laughed as Samos clung in the branches like a log-toting koala. Finally, though, he figured he ought to call Jak off.

“Hey Jak!” his dream-self whistled, picking up a large wrench from the garage that had suddenly appeared on the ground beside him. “Jak, over here! Get the stick, big guy!”

With a growl of pleasure, Dark Jak took the bait and leaped after the thrown wrench. In seconds he was back, towering over Daxter with the tool clenched triumphantly in his fangs. Dropping the wrench so that it bounced painfully off Daxter’s head, Jak happily jumped on his friend and began to lick his face enthusiastically.

“Ah, no, come on!” Dax whined playfully as dark Jak continued to lick him, halfheartedly trying to shove the affectionate creature off his chest. It proved impossible, as Dax was much smaller than Jak even when human. “Jak! That tickles! Stop it, yer slobberin’ all over me, ya horny beast!”

As dream-Dax was tweaking one of Dark Jak’s sharply pointed horns and laughing uproariously at his own joke, wrenches began to fall from the sky and smoke the redhead one by one right between the ears. He cringed, trying to sidestep the falling tools but unable to get away from Jak, who continued to hold him still and lick him unceasingly.

Wrench after wrench hit Daxter, each larger and more painful than the last, until…

- // - // - // - // -

“Oooowwww…!”

Dax moaned pitifully as he awoke, groggily waving a weak hand in the air in a befuddled attempt to make the wrenches stop hitting him. It took him a moment, disoriented as he was, to realize that nothing was falling: his head was just pounding away viciously all on its own.

Wincing at the early morning sunlight pouring through the small window right across his face, he covered his eyes with one hand and tried to make sense of why his head felt like Sig had danced a salsa number on it.

Alcohol must surely be involved in pain like this if no other cause was immediately forthcoming. So, how had he gotten drunk? Reason said that at some point the night before he and Jak must have been at the bar. Alright, then what had they been doing there? Besides getting drunk?

Slowly, still half asleep, Dax began to piece it all together. They had been having a good old fashioned hangout at the Naughty Ottsel and for some odd reason he’d swigged enough liquor in his smaller furry form to knock a yacow for a loop. He had done it because… Hmm. Well, why had he done it? Something had upset him, and…

A surge of nausea accompanied the full return of the redhead’s memory.

Tess. Jinx. Unmentionable, unthinkable, un-admittable below-the-belt activities.

Daxter groaned anew and with much more force, his head echoing every sound and slight movement with a ripple of pain. This was why it was unwise to try to drink your problems away, he remembered belatedly. They were still there in the morning, and hangovers rarely helped in any situation.

Dimly, Dax wondered why he wasn’t still ottsel. He almost never went anywhere looking like the human he was, and he couldn’t remember sleeping that way since Sandover. But maybe that wasn’t so weird, he thought absently, since he felt weird enough already this morning. First off, there was something warm and heavy on his chest.

Feeling around cautiously, his free hand encountered a soft fluff of hair and a long, slender ear. Jak, of course. No wonder he’d been dreaming about being roughed around by his friend’s alter ego. Daxter grinned slightly despite his discomfort.

He had done this so many times in the past, laid quietly as dawn blossomed into early morning, waiting for the boy still sleeping next to him to wake up so they could begin their day of fun, adventure, and, of course, trouble-making. Also, of course, he could only lie patiently for so long before he absolutely had to wake Jak up in some annoying manner, but still.

Absently Dax began to lightly scratch behind the ear his hand still rested on. In his sleep, Jak let out a contented sigh. It was nice, the redhead reflected, with the golden sunlight just beginning to crawl up the rough-hewn walls. Soon enough they would have to get up and face whatever the day felt like throwing at them, so it was alright to just doze there for a minute or two or ten.

Still asleep, Jak turned his head slightly and licked a firm trail up Daxter’s neck to his chin.

Dax’s ears flew up in comprehension… twitched rapidly in contemplation… then slicked back in mild annoyance.

Firmly grabbing Jak by the shoulders, Daxter pushed his friend off his chest and sat up, ignoring the immediate throbbing of his head in favor of wiping off the spit. There was a wet patch near his collarbone as well, indicating that his dear pal Jak had been happily drooling on him in his sleep.

“Eww, Jak. Very eww.” Dax wiped his damp hand on the side of Jak’s face, the Dark Jak licking dream suddenly making a little too much sense. He didn’t really want to know what Jak had been dreaming about.

“Huh?” Jak blinked at the palm on his cheek, opening his eyes with a huge yawn. Confronted with the sight of the irked, rumpled, and obviously hung-over redhead, he grinned blearily. “Good morning, sunshine.”

Dax’s ears fell flat. “Sooo not funny, smart ass.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.” Jak’s grin widened and he was hard pressed to hold back a chuckle, stretching hard to cover it with a slight first-stretch-of-the-day groan. “You look awful.”

“And that’s funny to you, is it, pal?” Dax growled sarcastically, trying in vain to palm and finger-comb his hair into place.

“Not really. It’s just, between you and me…” Jak leaned up the slightest bit, Dax leaning down without thinking to bring them within conspiratorial whispering distance. “If I were you, I’d grow some fur or put some pants on.”

Daxter’s eyes shot open wide, face scrunching comically as he looked quickly down at himself, naked under the sheets. Jak roared with laughter, rolling over and burying his face in his arms as his flustered friend began to beat him about the head with the pillow.

“That’s fan-friggin’-tastic!” Dax griped, red in the face as he mercilessly swung the abused pillow. “Ya know, ya coulda told me that the first time instead of tryin’ ta strike up a conversation!”

“Come on, Dax, knock it off,” Jak laughed, waving a hand behind his head in an attempt to ward off the attack. He was having fun, but it was still a little too early to be roughhousing, in his humble opinion. Besides, the sooner he got Dax showered and some food into him the better they’d both feel. Dax hung over could out-whine a grumpy preschooler.

Unwilling to let it go at that, Dax wound up for a final hit. Feathers flew as the old pillow collided solidly with the back of a green-blonde head, the ratty fabric finally having taken all it could take. It came apart at the seams with a loud rip.

Jak let out an undignified “oof!” before cautiously raising his head. “Damn. You know that was our only pillow.”

“Jaaa~k!” the redhead yelled, shaking the torn pillowcase in his general direction. “Lookit that, that was completely yer fault! Oooh, my *head!*”

Abandoning the ruined pillow over the side of the bed, Daxter collapsed across Jak’s back, hands buried in his own fiery hair and face pressed between his friend’s shoulder blades. Jak obligingly lay still, giving him a moment to regroup.

The moment turned into several moments, however, which in turn stretched into a few minutes.

Dax could feel his chest and shoulders rising and falling slightly with Jak’s deep, even breaths. Unconsciously he began to try to breathe in time with his friend. Jak breathes in, breathe in… soothing scent of rough soap, clean sweat, residual grease and smoke. Jak breathes out, breathe out… small wisps of green-tinged yellow draped over shoulders ruffle gently. For some reason, it was helping his headache.

“Dax.” The soft statement hung in the still air, almost regretful. “Come on. Can’t go back to sleep.”

Daxter sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Five more minutes.”

“Um, no.”

“Three then.”

“Sorry.”

“Move a muscle an’ I’ll tickle you so bad they’ll hear ya screamin’ in Spargus,” Dax muttered lazily, fingers twitching minutely at Jak’s side, just grazing the skin.

Jak gave one violent and immediate twitch before freezing, hands clenching in the sheets as he cursed under his breath. It wasn’t often Dax got him into a position where he could mess with him like that, and Jak had no doubt he would do it. The redhead was not one to pass up an opportunity to see Jak rendered defenseless.

“That’s right, babe.” Dax grinned shamelessly, letting his eyes slide shut once more as he trailed one finger slowly up and down Jak’s side. “Like I said, just five more minutes…”

Jak laid very still, muscles twitching slightly under the roving finger. After a few quiet seconds, Daxter thought he’d finally won. The hero was not going to protest. He was silently congratulating himself when Jak, unexpectedly and quick as lightning, flipped and rolled.

“Raaawr!”

Dax’s squeal of surprise mingled with Jak’s playful imitation of his darker self as the redhead found himself firmly pinned by the shoulders, Jak hovering over him with a smugly devious smile in place. His hands were moving, drifting slowly toward Dax’s sides.

“No fair!” Dax shrieked, panicking as Jak began to tickle mercilessly. “Jak, stoppit! I wasn’t really gonna tickle ya, I swear! Ya big lug, no respect for people with *hangovers,* here!”

Accordingly Jak fell back the slightest bit, moved by pity to give his significantly disadvantaged friend a fighting chance.

It really was a marvel how fast they could transition from companionable apathy to furious competition and back again twice in a row, Dax thought ironically as he lunged up in an attempt to somehow retaliate. He twisted and squirmed, trying to worm his way back on top of the pile of struggling limbs and twisted blankets.

He was laughing as he clutched at Jak’s hair, Jak was laughing as he playfully butted the underside of Dax’s chin with his forehead, everything was as it should be--when Jak froze.

“Jak?” Daxter glanced up questioningly when his friend didn’t resume movement, breathing hard and hands still loosely gripping green-blonde strands. “Watsa matter?”

Jak bolted off of him, rolling off the bed to hit the ground hard on hands and knees. Very slowly, breathing hard himself, he peered back up over the edge to look warily at Dax. “Nothing. It’s nothing. It’s just… just time to get up now. We have to go.”

Dax sighed deeply, knowing that reality had finally decided to come knocking and Jak had let it in. Ah, well. It had been fun while it lasted.

“Too responsible, Jakkie-boy, that’s what you are.” With a final yawn and stretch the redhead kicked off the last of the clinging blankets and slid out of bed, sauntering unconcernedly toward the door. One of the few perks of living for years in nothing but fur: it made one much more comfortable in nothing but skin. “First dibs on the shower.”

Jak avoided comment, pointedly turning his back on Daxter and busying himself with digging up the day’s set of reasonably fresh clothes. Incidentally, their laundry system (or lack thereof) was one reason Keira had never been invited past the doors of the house. The poor girl who painstakingly cleaned and de-greased each of her tools after using them would have a coronary.

Dax offered a final grin to the back of his friend’s head, snatching up a towel that might or might not have been clean on the way out. For reasons unknown, his headache had all but disappeared. What an unexpectedly nice way to start the morning.

- // - // - // - // -

Jak scowled, flinging an unquestionably filthy sock backwards over one shoulder. What an unexpectedly bad way to start the morning.

Everything had been just dandy at first. He had been happily playing with Daxter, his favorite activity forever and always, without a care in the world. He would risk Ashelin’s ire at being late any day for that.

Dax was solid, warm, and giggling beneath him, slender fingers played through his hair, and the world was perfect. Then, without warning, he was leaning forward to plant a loving kiss or affectionate nip (still dazed, he wasn’t sure quite which he had intended) on the smooth arched column of his best friend’s neck.

Barely catching himself in time he had jerked back in a panic, realizing almost too late what he was doing… and exactly what kind of affect the prolonged shifting, squirming contact was having on regions south.

“Go down… I’m ignoring you… go away,” he hummed absently, feigning nonchalance as he scolded the errant parts in question. These silly urges would be getting no conscious encouragement from *him,* that was for sure. If he had to he would walk around with ice cubes in his pants.

Blessedly, when Daxter emerged from the shower he was shaking thick orange fur dry. Jak, by that time sufficiently unexcited, suppressed a sigh of relief and settled for scratching briefly behind damp ottsel ears before heading in to wash up himself. Perhaps the morning had hope of being redeemed after all.

- - - - -

“There ain’t nothin’ ta eat, Jak,” Dax sighed as the racer finally wandered into the small kitchen sometime later. The ottsel was draped limply across an empty fruit bowl on the counter, a scrap of bread clenched halfheartedly in his teeth.

“There was a banana in there last night.” Picking up the bowl, Jak carefully tipped Daxter out of it.

“I touched it and it collapsed. Must'a been there a month.” Dax sighed, took one last nibble of the bread, and tossed it randomly at the garbage. “Hard as Torn’s ass. What’re we gonna do about breakfast?”

Jak looked bemusedly into an empty cupboard. With all the races they had been winning and the occasional monetary boons from Ashelin, why was it that they never seemed to have enough food, light bulbs, or laundry soap? The single light in the bedroom had been out for two weeks and he was slowly running out of socks that weren’t hard to the touch.

“We’ll have to get something in town.”

For some reason, at the mention of town Daxter’s ears drooped, then flattened. “Town, yeah… Hey, Jak, bring my clothes, will ya? I need ta stop by the bar for a sec.”

“I thought you might,” Jak grinned. He quickly scooped up the clothes his friend had been wearing the night before, haphazardly folding them before stuffing them into his rucksack. It hadn’t escaped his notice, though, how down in the dumps Dax suddenly sounded. “You can’t go ottsel?”

On the counter Dax roughly shook the last of the water from his fur and leaped, landing perfectly on Jak’s metal shoulder plate. “Nah. I get the feelin’ I need ta be me to do this, big guy. Ol’ Orange Lightning will just hafta take a backseat on this one.”

Jak did not ask what “this” was. He knew of course that something was very much out of place, but he didn’t pry. Sure he was curious, but he also knew that Daxter would tell him soon enough. He would be clued in when his friend was ready for him to be, and that would suffice for now.

He did hope though, as they left the house and headed toward the Naughty Ottsel, that whatever it was would not get to his buddy too much.

- // - // - // - // -

“There you go. I’m gonna go find breakfast."

Daxter gratefully leaped from his friend’s shoulder and landed lightly on the dusty ground near the rear door of the Naughty Ottsel, ever thankful that Jak could read him so well. The big guy always knew just when to make himself scarce for a little while without putting Daxter through the awkwardness of specifically asking for “alone time.”

“Thanks, babe,” he grinned, accepting the bundle of clothes Jak handed him from the bag. “Find me berries and you’ll be my favorite.”

Jak chuckled. “Like I’m not already.” He reached out as if to ruffle his friend’s fur, then appeared to think better of it and quickly drew his hand away. Giving Daxter a simple nod, he turned and strode off in the direction of the bustling morning market.

Rather puzzled, Dax watched him go, absently folding the large (in his current state) clothes over his arm. Jak seemed awfully… well, *off* this morning. The ottsel *always* got a pat goodbye from his buddy whenever it became necessary for them to split up for any amount of time. That Jak should forget so important a gesture was unheard of, but for the green-blonde to purposely withhold it was even stranger.

Giving his fur one last fluff, Dax shook it off. That puzzle would have to go on the back burner, as it were. Right now he had another problem to deal with that was slightly bigger than figuring out Jak’s newest weird mood.

Grumbling to himself about bothersome blondes of both sexes, Daxter snuck into the saloon and began the search for a nook where he could quickly change from fur to clothes. After all, the very nature of the discussion that was to come required that he be significantly taller than the knees of the woman he was confronting.

- // - // - // - // -

Apples, oranges, Daxter’s berries, more bananas.

Jak distractedly paid for the fruit and stuffed the parcels into his bag, not really minding if the breakfast items in question bruised. His mind was notably elsewhere.

Somewhere between the dried meat stall and the bakery carts he had almost remembered a dream he’d been having that morning. Now he hoped against hope that it was only his imagination, and he hadn’t really been dreaming of necking with Daxter while the redhead was sleeping right next to him.

//It’s a damn wonder I didn’t lick him or something,// Jak thought in exasperation as he wove through the crowds of shoppers. This insanity had to stop. It was getting out of hand.

He was still deep in thought when he spied the pillows. Tall piles of fluffy white pillows, beckoning him closer. Well, why not? He needed a new pillow anyway, now that he thought about it. Moving nearer to the storefront, he gave one an exploratory poke.

Quite soft. Possibly feather-stuffed. It would do.

Nodding, Jak grabbed the cushion and turned to pay for it. But then… Slowly, he gave the remaining pillows an appraising stare. Maybe he should get two of them, just in case Daxter decided to make a habit of sleeping human. He was reaching for another when reason prevailed.

No! No, he couldn’t do anything that would encourage Dax to do that. His sanity might not survive night after night of his friend hanging all over him in a form that Jak couldn’t easily keep confined to chest level and higher. If he bought another pillow now he might as well buy an extra bed, and that wasn’t an option. After all, he still liked sleeping with Daxter. Daxter just needed to be furry when it occurred.

His mind made up, Jak turned away--only to turn back a second later and snatch a second pillow from the pile. What the hell. They could keep it for extenuating circumstances, right? Doing his best to adequately rationalize the extra purchase, the hero-turned-racer grabbed his bags and began to move briskly back the way he had come. They needed to be on their way to meet Ashelin soon.

He just hoped he had given Daxter all the time he needed back at the bar.

- // - // - // - // -

Daxter was pouting, slumped over the counter top from his stool at the bar. His headache was back full force.

Okay, so maybe he had been a bit blunt with his questioning, but that didn’t give Tessy-kins any good reason to whack him between the ears with a wooden spoon, did it? A rather large wooden spoon.

The redhead ruefully rubbed at the rapidly forming lump, watching Tess bluster behind the bar stacking up mugs and glasses. It appeared that he’d thrown off her morning groove.

“Seriously, Tessy-babe. That kinda hurt.”

“That was kinda supposed to hurt!” The blonde huffed, cramming a dishtowel into a wet mug with a bit more force than necessary. “Honestly Daxxie, you should know better than that! Never, *ever* ask a lady where her mouth has been.”

Dax groaned and slumped forward even further, letting his forehead rest gently on the cool wood of the bar. Now he was hung over and possibly concussed by the woman he had thought was more than passing fond of him. Who had just pretty much admitted to getting up close and personal with Little Jinxy. What could be worse?

There was a small thump near his head. Blearily Daxter looked up, and found his gaze blocked by a frosty mug of beer. His ears flicked in confusion.

“Drink it slowly and it might help your head.” Unable to hold back a smile, Tess gently petted mussed red hair back into place. Boys could be so cute when they were jealous.

“Gee, thanks.” Smiling back just slightly, Dax pulled the mug closer. “Chasers are always fun. So…”

“So?”

He traced the rim of the mug with one finger, avoiding eye contact. When he looked at Tess he thought of Jinx, and that made him want to scour his corneas with bleach. “Will ya at least tell me why?”

Tess blinked in surprise, flipping the towel back to hang down over her shoulder. “Why? You mean, why Jinx?”

Dax nodded, suppressing a shudder. “If ya don’t care, please enlighten me. Why in the Precursors’ names would ya wanna do *that* with *him?*”

“Oh, that! Sure, I don’t mind telling.” Tess had suddenly, alarmingly, gone girlishly bubbly. “Jinx is just so… oh, I don’t know… rugged and manly!”

The redhead stared.

Tess giggled. “I guess you might say he’s my bit of rough. And wow, was it!”

Daxter immediately felt ill. Did *not* need to hear that. Nope, didn’t, not at all.

“Oh, come on, Daxxie. I’m still young and free. I like my fun as much as the next girl! But that doesn’t mean I feel any less about you, okay? I’ll always love you just the same. You understand that, right?”

A sort of calm had descended over Daxter. Taking a deep breath and letting it slowly out again, he looked up. Taking in her face, her eyes. Her expression. She stared back earnestly, and he did understand. He had known it all along, maybe, and just not admitted it to himself.

Yes, she would always love him the same. The same as she did the other guys. Maybe a little bit more, as they were good friends in addition to flirting partners, but still. There was nothing overtly special there, at least on the romantic scale.

Dax forced a small smile, absently blowing at the suds on the edge of the mug.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it, sweetheart. I understand.” Boy, did he ever. And it sucked, big time.

Tess beamed, looking like she’d enjoy nothing more at the moment than squeezing the stuffing out of Orange Lightning. Luckily, she settled for an enthusiastic kiss to the top of Daxter’s still-bruised head. “I knew you would, my little fluffy muffin! You’re an ottsel among men.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Surreptitiously, Daxter tried to wipe off the kiss. It was sad, but his darling Tessy-poo had been contaminated. He would still adore her, but from a safe distance. Unfortunately the threat of second-hand Jinx particles was not something to be taken lightly.

Humming slightly, Tess resumed drying the glasses. Her mood seemed much improved as she turned to ask a question of her own. “Hey, Daxxie? How did you know about me and Jinx, anyway?”

Dax shrugged casually, lifting the mug to his lips. “I cheated.”

“Daxter!” The wet towel quickly found its way into the redhead’s startled face.

“What?!”

“You mean you cheated at the secret game?” Tess demanded, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “You’re awful!”

Dax couldn’t help but grin, wiping stray flecks of foam off his cheek. “Hey, babe, let’s not forget who we named this bar after, hmm?”

“The naughtiest ottsel ever,” she had to agree, rolling blue eyes. Dropping the huffy pose, she dropped her elbows to the bar and leaned closer. “So how did you do it?” she asked eagerly.

Almost smugly, Daxter let her in on his improvised smoke signal trick. She was duly impressed.

“Wow, Daxxie, that’s clever.”

“Yeah.” Dax modestly blew on his nails and buffed them against his shirt. “It just came ta me. I'm not sure what else you could use that technique for, but it served the purpose.”

“The purpose of getting dirt on your so-called friends?” Laughing, Tess aimed the towel at him again. The boy was incorrigible.

“Hey, I'm not sayin’ anything about anybody else’s freaky secrets. In fact I think a couple of ‘em might have scarred me for life.” Ahem, Torn and Ashelin, ahem. “The only one I really wanted was Jak’s, anyway. The Demolition Duo shares all, baby!”

“Uh-huh.” Tess looked skeptical at the notion that Jak wouldn’t mind his deepest thoughts divulged, even by his closest pal. However, she was willing to pass it off. Those boys were closer than tires to the racetrack, after all, so maybe Jak would be alright with it. She decided to change the subject. “Speaking of Jak and your Precursor-ness… how is ‘it’ coming?”

Daxter leaned forward eagerly, dropping his voice to an excited whisper. “Actually, it’s comin’ pretty good. I tossed a ratchet through the other day an’ it actually hit the water. So I’m thinkin’ that with a few more tries--”

“Hello…?”

At the hesitant knock and ensuing creaking floorboards, Dax buttoned it. No way was *that* particular surprise going to be found out prematurely. “At the bar, big guy. Come on in.”

- // - // - // - // -

Jak came into the saloon slowly, making sure the coast was clear. Finding no evidence that anything was out of place, he relaxed and took the stool next to his friend, nodding to the lovely barkeep. “Morning, Tess.”

“And a bright, sunny good morning to you too, gorgeous.” She winked saucily, ever in high spirits. “How was the shopping this morning? Any good deals out there?”

Jak shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Oh, the usual. I got stuck in line behind a little old lady who haggled over the price of bread for ten minutes. Some kid ran into my leg, dropped his ice cream, and flipped me off. Same ol’, same ol’.”

“And might you have anything to show for this trip, namely something for Daxter?” The redhead leaned in expectantly, palm out and fingers curling in the classic ‘gimme gimme’ gesture. “Somethin’ tells me you do.”

Snorting in amusement, Jak dug into the sack. He pulled out the bag of berries, not noticing when several oranges rolled out and underneath the legs of the bar stools. “You know, you could always go out and get your own food instead of constantly relying on me, you little vulture.”

Daxter cackled, popping several of the berries into his mouth. “I’ll tell ya somethin’, Jakkie-boy. Eagles may soar, but ottsels don’t get sucked inta jet propellers.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, mah buddy, that I’m quite, quite happy ta continue vulturing. Wanna berry, Tessy-kins?”

Jak shook his head in fond resignation as Daxter and Tess enthusiastically dug into the berries. It was entirely his fault, really, that Daxter was so rotten. The colossal brat knew that Jak would always do whatever he wanted and provide him with whatever he needed. Yep, all his fault. Not that he was complaining.

Bending down to scoop an apple out of the bag and wondering absently at the absence of half the oranges, the green-blonde straightened up on his stool. They needed to be going soon. Ready to tell his friends as much, Jak turned back to Daxter and Tess… only to freeze solid, blue eyes widening to their limit.

Daxter had a berry halfway into his mouth, balancing the fruit against pulp-reddened lips with the tip of one finger. A slick of thick, white, creamy beer foam was dripping slowly down one lightly freckled cheek to join a tiny splash of bright juice at the corner of those laughing lips.

Jak’s eye twitched violently. He tried to gulp and couldn’t. He stood slack jawed, hand clenched reflexively around the apple still poised on its way toward his open mouth.

After a moment Daxter saw him staring and grinned. Poking a giggling Tess on the tip of her nose and licking away the now pink-tinged foam from his mouth, the redhead gave Jak an obvious wink. “Sweet like candy, babe.”

The apple suffered sudden, severe constriction as Jak’s fist tightened convulsively, blunt nails digging deep crescents into its peel. Blood rushed to his face, his heart jumped, his stomach dropped, his lungs caved in and his throat closed all in the space of a second. It was too much.

The hero shot to his feet--or would have, had the shoulder strap of the rucksack lying limply at the base of the stool not tangled around his ankles. He careened into Daxter, leaving him smashed nose to nose with the startled redhead.

“Jak?”

Jak shoved himself away from the bar. Frantically kicking the straps off his feet he tried to run, but his first step landed directly on top of one of the free-rolling oranges. He hit the floor hard but didn’t stop, scrambling for the door. Had to get out, had to get out right *now*.

“Jak, wait!”

Jak didn’t. In a second he was on his feet again and nearly to the door. He would have made it this time, too, had his boots not been dripping orange juice.

With an almighty crash the racer slid into a table and fell over two rickety wooden chairs. Face and ears burning brighter than the desert sun, he finally gained the exit and disappeared outside with a slam of the door.

Tess and Daxter were left in stunned silence. Shaking his head slowly, the Precursor-in-training finally turned to his best gal pal and burst into laughter.

- // - // - // - // -

“Yeesh, what in the name a Mar’s eatin’ him?! I ain’t *never* seen Jakkie-boy that klutzy! Aw, man, that was priceless!”

Tess, however, had a very strange look on her face. She had been watching Jak just before his impromptu exit from her bar, and what she had seen was… intriguing, to say the least. Woman’s intuition nagging, she shook Daxter’s shoulder firmly. “Daxxie, what was Jak’s secret?”

Daxter abruptly ceased laughing his red head off and gave Tess a puzzled look. “Huh?”

“Tell me what Jak’s secret was.”

“What’re you talkin’ about? What secret?”

She threw up her hands in frustration. “What do you mean ‘what secret?’ The secrets you oh-so-shamelessly found out at the party last night! What did Jak’s paper say?”

“Oh, that.” Dax scratched the back of his head for a moment, trying to remember. Tess’s revelation via the game had taken up most of his concentration since then, but he did still recall what his pal had divulged. He smirked smugly at the memory. “Jak actually had a great secret.”

“And it was…?”

Pleased with himself, Dax polished off the last of the berries and carefully sucked each of his fingers clean. “That he loves me.”

Tess’s mouth dropped open. Wow. Just like that. “And you’re alright with that?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, c'mon, I knew it all along. We grew up together. We’re partners an’ we’ll always be there fer each other no matter what. And I am awesome, after all. How could he *not* love me?”

The blonde resisted the urge to slap her forehead at how oblivious her silly little sweetie could be. “But don’t you think there’s something a little… different about what Jak wrote and what just happened here? Aren’t you seeing some sort of correlation?”

Daxter considered it, thoughtfully tapping his chin with one finger. “Uh… nope. Really can’t think of anything.”

Tess wanted to scream. You could lead a leaper lizard to the oasis, but you had to rub its nose in the water to make it drink.

“Daxxie, wake up!” she cried, grabbing the clueless redhead by the shoulders and giving a firm shake. “Jak wasn’t admitting that he loves you in the buddy-buddy sense, he’s saying that he’s *in* love with you! In the mental, emotional, and most importantly physical sense!”

Daxter stared blankly. “Wh… what?”

“Didn’t you see the way he was looking at you? It was so obvious! Trust me, I’m a woman. I *know* these things. Jak is so in love with you.” She pulled back a bit to gaze at him seriously before a happy smile burst onto her face and she pulled him into a crushing hug. “Ooooh, isn’t that just the sweetest thing?!”

Completely bewildered, Daxter shot a panicked look over Tess’s shoulder at the door his best friend in the world had tripped out of mere minutes ago.

No.

Jak just had to go to the bathroom really bad, that was all. He was running out because he left the oven on at home. There was an emergency phone call he had to make. Of course Tess wasn’t right, and he hadn’t been on the verge of doing something really naughty to his little once-ottsel buddy.

…had he?

Daxter’s ears slowly, very slowly drooped and fell limp. “Well, damn.”


To Be Continued! (definitely!)

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(2nd) AN: Okay, so this was not the obligatory “get rid of all romantic rivals in order to make your chosen pairing work” chapter. Or at least it wasn’t supposed to be. I tried to make it pretty clear that Tess and Daxter will always care about each other, no matter what. And Lord knows they’ll still flirt like nothing else. They just aren’t actively romancing.

And, while Dax was understandably upset, no one’s world was crushed by a big emotional breakup. Tess is just a little bit of a swinger, not a total witch or anything. I luv Tessy, yes I do! Hope that cleared everything up.

And now we have Tess, the budding relationship counselor! How fun will that be? Anyway I can’t let it go now… it’s just too entertaining. So see you next chapter!

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