Talk to Me

AN: Aaaand, plugging right along… on to chapter three. I’m privately amazed at myself for updating this fast. I do love this one, though. Yay for lovey-dovey best friend relationships! Thanks much-es, reviewing peoples!

Black_silken_kitty: Yes, Daxter is cute and oblivious, isn’t he? Fortunately (or is it unfortunately?) for Jak the oblivious part won’t last long…

VeryNaughtyOttsel: Yeah, “clueless” nicely sums up Dax’s take on the situation. I guess up to that point it just never occurred to him. Oh, but now… *ebil smirks* What will the devious little thing do with this information, we wonder? And will poor Jakku be able to handle it?

Disclaimer: Still don’t own it or make money from it. If I did I’d make someone somewhere mass produce ottsel plush toys. Everybody could use a little ottsel.

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“Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

Safely hidden just inside the entrance of an alley near the Naughty Ottsel, Jak cursed himself as ten kinds of a fool. Pressed firmly against the brick wall and panting faintly, he gently tilted his head back to rest against the cool stone. What had he done?

“I… am such… an idiot.”

Trying to get his breathing back under control and dissipate the raging blush that still lit his face, the racer fought the urge to knock his head even harder against the side of the building.

For the love of Mar, it had been beer suds. Nothing but beer suds, and he’d had a spazz attack like nothing he had ever experienced before. He was well and truly ashamed of himself. No matter what the circumstances, no matter what the situation, no matter what kind of creamy, lathery, frothy white substance was indecently decorating Daxter’s face, he should *not* have lost control like that!

Stupid Daxter, with his stupid beer and stupid tongue and stupid berries, making Jak look like a fool.

Shaking his head fiercely, Jak shoved himself away from the wall. Now was not a good time. He could tell by the sun that they were already late for the appointment with Ashelin, and the consequences of such a transgression would not be pleasant. With a reluctant sigh, he made his way slowly back to the steps of the bar to wait for Daxter. He would have to call the commander and at least tell her they were in fact en route. So much for enjoying the rest of the day.

- - - - -

It did not take long for Daxter to appear.

Jak was ready for the weird look on his friend’s face when the ottsel inched out of the bar, the abandoned rucksack containing his discarded clothes in tow. Clearing his throat, the green-blonde tucked his communicator back into his pocket.

“Sorry I, uh, bugged out back there,” he muttered, turning quickly away. If Daxter saw his face he would know in an instant Jak was nervous and lying. “I called Ashe to tell her we’re on our way.”

Though it was obvious that Dax was in no way satisfied with that answer, surprisingly he let it slide. He dropped the bag at Jak’s feet and used his friend as a ladder to reach his favorite shoulder perch. “Hey, no problemo. Certainly can’t keep the lovely lady waitin’.”

He wasn’t comfortable up there, Jak could sense it. The little ottsel was holding himself stiffly, tense like he became when trying to forcibly joke their way out of a Dark Jak episode. Jak swallowed hard.

Well, it was probably better for Daxter to think his friend had nearly gone berserk and torn the bar to pieces in an unprovoked dark eco frenzy than to know that he had only nearly escaped being soundly kissed by self-same friend. At least the first of the two unfortunate occurrences seemed to happen without Jak’s conscious control.

“Hey.” Jak paused, looking up at his currently furry friend.

Daxter immediately ceased his nervous chatter, glancing quickly down to meet Jak’s eyes. “Eh?”

Jak looked up at him earnestly, concentrating on putting as much feeling into his gaze as he could. Mourning the loss of the closeness they’d had in Sandover that had rendered speech almost redundant, he tried to reassure Daxter without words that everything was fine. Even though it technically wasn’t.

“It’s alright, Dax. I’m okay. Really.”

Daxter stared back for a long moment. At last he shook himself roughly, breaking eye contact. Grinning softly, he leaned down to brush his furry knuckles along Jak’s jaw in a mock punch. “Yeah, big guy, I know. Me, too.”

Jak’s ears perked at that. He immediately relaxed, secure in the knowledge that Daxter was no longer afraid of him or wary of anything he might do. For now that was all he needed. Smiling, he reached up to run a hand down Dax’s back in what was meant as a reassuring caress.

The ottsel shivered gently under his friend’s touch, crouching low on the metal shoulder guard. Finally, an inner decision seemed to be reached.

Much to Jak’s relief, Dax curled closer to hang around the racer’s neck, half covered by a silky, green-blonde curtain. There he remained, but Jak was left wondering why his friend was so strangely quiet on the long walk to the palace.

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

In reality it would have made more sense to utilize the zoomer Keira was constantly offering to let them use, especially considering that they were already late. However, today Daxter was thankful for the long while it took to get there on foot. He had taken full advantage of the time they had taken to reach the rendezvous point to come to two very important conclusions.

Conclusion number one dictated that he would never, ever, not in a million years, be afraid of or avoid Jak for any reason. If brutal fangs, razor sharp talons, and enraged, unreasoning black eyes hadn’t been enough to frighten him from Jak’s side, then it couldn’t be done. Pain, fear, and hatred rolled up into a neat little package of dark eco couldn’t break their bond. Why then should a little thing like love?

Conclusion number two said that, while they were on the subject of love, Tess might have been wrong. There were many, many possible explanations for Jak’s behavior at the bar. Therefore, some testing was in order to determine whether or not the beautiful bartender’s diagnosis was correct.

“Think I’ll stretch my legs,” Dax yawned when Jak’s footsteps, made louder by heavy boots, echoed in the mostly empty halls of the palace. Stretching leisurely, he hopped down from his perch. “I’ll come find ya when the meeting’s over.”

Jak stared incredulously at the ottsel unconcernedly working the kinks out of his back. “You’ll stretch your legs now that I’ve walked us both the entire way here?”

Daxter grinned impudently. “Cool, clean rock beats hot, dusty street, baby. Plus, you think I’m gonna sit an’ listen ta our charming alpha female snarl at us fer bein’ a teeny bit behind schedule? No thank ya.”

“Cowardus ottselae, that’s your scientific name,” Jak muttered. Threatening under his breath to tell their resident be-goggled scientist the correct identification term for Daxter’s species, he stalked off in search of Ashelin.

Covertly Daxter watched him go, hard-pressed to hold back a laugh. If the danger had been real he would have never left Jak’s shoulder, but Ashe’s bark was worse than her bite, especially when it came to Jak and a certain knife-loving soldier. Right now he just really needed some time alone to think.

Picking a random corridor Dax wandered down it, rolling ideas over in his head.

If Jak was really in love, no matter with whom, why hadn’t Daxter noticed? It wasn’t as if an emotion like that was easy to miss. Had Jak just been doing a stellar job of hiding his feelings lately, or did that mean that Dax couldn’t read the former hero as well as he thought he still could?

“Some best friend you are,” he growled to himself as he walked, tugging the straps of his goggles in frustration. “Jakkie-boy might be in love with ya an’ yer the last one ta know about it! Where’s yer observational skills?”

So absorbed was Daxter in his self-chastising that he failed to notice the muffled sounds stemming from what appeared to be an out of the way storage closet until he was level with the door.

When he did notice, however, the ottsel had to pause. He might be in the middle of a serious personal crisis, but that was no reason his curiosity should have to suffer as well. Tilting his head to one side to better present one furry ear, Dax slipped silently over to the door and listened closely.

Faint giggling came from behind the old, ornately carved wood.

Daxter grinned.

It must have been some of the ex KG’s kids, bored with waiting for their parents and playing a game. Well, he got along pretty good with the kiddos when the younger ones weren’t trying to pull his tail. Maybe playing with them for a while would help him relax. That thought in mind Dax stood on tiptoe to grab the knob, throwing the door wide open.

“Heya, kids! Watcha—great sages shadow!”

“Rat!” Torn bellowed at the top of his lungs. One hand flew out to block the light from the hall falling in his startled eyes while the other reached for the fall of his uniform pants. Ashelin gave a high-pitched and very un-commander-ly scream, scrambling to pull her shirt down and her shorts up.

That was all it took.

Daxter slammed the door shut as Torn lunged, barely pausing to register the crash made as the illustrious rebel leader tripped over his own pants and fell into the wood. Already laughing hysterically the ottsel rocketed off down the hall with speed only Orange Lightning could muster, one all-consuming priority echoing in his head.

Must. Tell. Jak!

“Jak, buddy, where are ya?!” he yelled at the top of his voice. “Jaaaa~k!”

Torn and Ashe were right behind him.

“Freeze, rat!”

“Little furry soldier, I command you to halt!”

“Jaaaak!”

“Daxter?!”

They met near the main entrance where four halls converged. Bewildered, Jak flew around a corner to the rescue of his friend with gun prepped, nearly falling over Daxter when the fleeing ottsel shot between his legs to safety. Torn and Ashelin, the former with knife drawn, barely avoided crashing into Jak themselves.

“Okay, what’s going on here?” Jak panted angrily, eying the live steel as Daxter, laughing too hard to speak, scrambled up his leg. He didn’t lower the gun, merely shifting it slightly in his grasp so he could hold onto Daxter.

Ashelin’s face was several shades redder than usual as she spoke up before Dax could. “Nothing! Absolutely nothing is going on here, other than you being inexcusably late!”

Daxter was panting into Jak’s hair, arms wrapped around his friend’s neck and body firmly supported by Jak’s protective embrace. Confident that Torn wouldn’t take on the angry racer just for the chance to skin an ottsel alive, he leered playfully at Ashelin. “Oh, as if ya weren’t fully enjoyin’ yer free time, sugar!”

At that the commander’s face rapidly turned the same fetching shade as her hair. She buried it quickly in her hands. “Quiet. Just be quiet.”

“I swear,” Torn growled menacingly at Daxter, brandishing the knife, “if you so much as squeak a word of this I’ll personally make you an appointment with the vet you won’t be coming back from!”

“That’s enough, Torn.” Jak looked ready to do a little growling of his own. “Leave Dax alone. Whatever it was he did to you, he won’t do it again. Right, Daxter?”

“Unless yer in a public closet again,” came the answer, accompanied by a pair of suggestively wiggling orange eyebrows. Oh, this was turning out far better than even a self-described harbinger of chaos could hope for.

Torn swore.

Ashe pointed firmly at the exit. “Both of you get out!”

“But you specifically arranged to meet—” Jak began, but was abruptly cut off.

“I don’t care! Now isn’t the time to… I mean, I don’t… I can’t… Aaargh, just *leave!*”

“No!” Jak was now beyond confused. “I didn’t come all the way here just to be turned back out! The least you can do is talk to me!”

The supremely flustered commander took a deep breath, managing to compose herself the least bit. “Jak Mar. I’m very, *especially* sorry if I have inconvenienced you in any way by asking you to meet with me today and not following through with the appointment. But please. Just… come back… tomorrow. Alright?”

Daxter didn’t know if it was the gritted teeth, clenched fists, or smoldering eyes of fiery doom that finally made Jak cave, but cave he did. With a disgusted sigh the racer gave up and shrugged it off, finally stowing away the gun. “Fine. Same time tomorrow, then. Let’s go, Dax.”

“He-heh, see ya later!” Daxter waved merrily at the disgruntled couple over Jak’s broad shoulder as the green-blonde turned to go, barely managing not to stick his tongue out at Torn. Of course he couldn’t wait to spread the news to *all* their friends.

“So, Dax…” Predictably, they hadn’t even reached the palace gate before Jak’s curiosity got the better of him. “What really happened in there?”

The ottsel was moved to laughter once again, earlier worries almost completely forgotten as he wrapped a teasing hand around Jak’s long ear to bring it closer in preparation for the telling. No matter what happened in their immediate future, the simple little things, the things that really counted… those could never change.

“Well babe,” he grinned, “let’s just say I mighta glimpsed a little more’a Tattooed Wonder than I really wanted ta see...”

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

“Well, I’d definitely call today a giant waste of time.”

Jak flopped face first onto the bed, slightly damp from his second shower of the day. Daxter immediately landed with a thump in the small of his friend’s back, still soaking wet. Once in a great while the “ott” of his ottsel liked to make itself known, and he had been rolling under Jak’s feet with great zeal, utilizing the water in the bottom of the shower to the fullest.

“Come on, Jakkie-boy, that’s no attitude ta take. No stinkin’ sewers, no scorchin’ wastelands, no metal heads, no one tryin’ ta blow us away, and ya even managed ta get us new pillows. I actually kinda liked today.”

Jak huffed as Dax braced on all fours and shook himself off, water spraying across most of their small sleeping area. He had to admit that the ottsel had a point.

After they had gone back to the bar to retrieve the forgotten pillows they had used the unexpected free time to do some proper shopping, and Jak had finally bullied himself into doing laundry with their new supply of soap. The lamp on the small table in the corner of the tiny bedroom blazed triumphantly in all its low-watt glory: he had remembered at long last to get it a new bulb.

So maybe the day hadn’t been a *total* waste.

Fur now significantly drier, Daxter hopped from Jak’s back and landed on one of the new pillows, testing its softness. The green-blonde watched him from the corner of his eye, praying that he would be a good boy and stay ottsel. The last thing Jak needed was for the day to come full circle and he find himself in bed with a naked Daxter again. If that happened he might just scream at the unfairness of life in general.

Daxter didn’t change over, however. It seemed he was content, for whatever reason, to spend another night as Orange Lightning. He did abandon the pillow, though, in favor of curling up on Jak’s lower back once more.

Jak smirked. “I should start charging you for leeching my body heat.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” the ottsel warned, showing no remorse whatsoever. “I’m up here keepin’ yer ass nice an’ toasty at the same time, so don’t get lippy!”

Jak bit back a yelp as the band of his boxers was snapped hard. “Hey!”

“Teach ya ta deny the simple gift of warmth to a revered holy beast,” Dax snipped.

Grumbling loudly Jak rolled over, catching a surprised Daxter before he could be squashed. He resettled, now on his back with Dax held to his chest. “Alright, you blew it. I don’t trust you back there.”

“That hurts, Jak. Ya should always trust yer best friend.”

Rolling his eyes, the racer silenced his ottsel companion the quickest way he knew how: cupping a palm over Daxter’s shoulder blades and petting downward to his hipbones in a long, firm stroke. Dax immediately went limp, draped across Jak’s torso in what amounted to a puddle of blissful orange goo.

“Mmm… aaah, *damn* that’s good!” In seconds he was all but purring, wriggling like a furry eel under the welcome attention. “Where’d ya get talented hands like that, babe?”

“Ask your Precursor buddies.” Jak was proud of himself. He liked making Daxter feel good. He pressed harder into the caresses, knowing from experience that in just a few more strokes…

“Meek, meek, meek!” The odd little high-pitched sound seemed to escape Daxter without his control. He was now stretched out as far as he could, arms out straight in front of him with tiny fingers curling and uncurling spastically near Jak’s collarbone. “Meek! Jeez, Jak, stop! Ya know how dumb I feel when I—meek! ah!—make animal noises!”

Jak reluctantly stopped the treatment, contritely petting the exceptionally soft patch of fur right between Dax’s shoulders with the tip of one finger. He closed his eyes and smiled, wriggling further into the soft bed as he felt Daxter relax and let out a relieved sigh that whispered warmly against his skin.

Okay, he took it all back. It had been a good day after all.

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

Daxter sighed contentedly, fuzzy chin on Jak’s bare chest. Ottsel massage made Orange Lightning a happy little critter and earned ol’ Jakkie-boy mucho brownie points. Jak’s cupped palm was just the right size to fit his back, and blunt, oil stained fingernails knew just where to scratch. Life was good.

He squirmed, the wonderful hand not abandoning its cause.

Fingers callused from years of gun triggers and steering wheels played lightly up and down his spine, coaxing little shivers of pleasure. It seemed almost funny that such a powerful hand, a hand that could just as easily snap his spine as stroke it, could be that intently focused on so gentle and loving a task.

Loving. Huh.

Dax drowsily opened his eyes, wondering for just a moment when they had fallen shut. He gazed, sleepy but thoughtful, at Jak.

The green-blonde’s own eyes had drifted closed, a peaceful expression on his relaxed face. One arm was tucked behind his head, the other curled slightly over Daxter as the roving hand continued to pet his fur. As he had that morning, Dax could feel himself rising and falling with Jak’s deep, steady breaths. He liked it when his friend was able to unwind like this. No pressing worries, no immediate cares.

He looked… cute like that. His best friend that might love him.

For a moment Daxter seriously considered just confronting Jak right then, asking point blank and demanding a straight answer. The love, was it real or imagined? And if it was real was it innocent and friendship-only, or was it romantic?

But, no. Directly approaching the issue would be far too simple and outright, and something no self-respecting male of any species would do. Actually *discussing* their feelings? Eww, not if he could help it.

Sighing again, Dax tilted his head so that one ear rested just above Jak’s heart. The steady beat soothed him somewhat as their combined warmth urged the remaining chill moisture from his fur. The ottsel tried to think back, straining his memory.

Had Jak ever exhibited any concrete evidence of this supposed affection?

For some reason his mind kept going back to Sandover.

When they had been young, Daxter had hated how he looked. Weird wild hair, too big teeth, too big ears, stupid freckles, scrawny and… short. Damn, how he hated the shortness. Next to Jak (tall, strong, blonde, perfect-smiled Jak) it was impossible not to feel like an ugly duckling.

//No swan yet,// he chuckled dryly to himself, idly examining the tip of his tail as it drifted past his nose.

It would have been painfully easy for Jak to just ignore the silly-looking, trouble-making kid his uncle called a heathen and go off with Keira, the only other child in the village and whose intentions toward Jak back then had been rather obvious. But he hadn’t. And now Dax wondered…

Had those hugs and warm smiles Jak always offered when the issue arose meant less “I don’t care that you look weird” and more “I like the way you look”? His constant presence around Daxter rather than Keira, had that really been not so much “you’re my sidekick and you make me look cool” as “you’re my best friend and I’d just rather be with you”?

And after that… damn, he had sure made Jak put up with a lot since then. The whining. The complaining. The smart comments. Treating him like a personal bodyguard. Making him do all the shopping. There had even been a recent period where Jak had gotten hardly any sleep for almost a month on his account.

Immediately after Daxter had discovered how to make himself human again, he had begun waking up with severe pain in his legs nearly every night. When pressed, Vin had given him a cursory exam and offered a simple diagnosis: Dax’s ottselization had disrupted his natural growth patterns. While it was true he had gained a bit of height as an ottsel, now that he was back to normal his body was trying to adjust faster than it could handle. In short, he had growing pains.

He’d had but one thought on the matter. Had a freak dark eco accident not destroyed his one shot at going through puberty normally, he might have ended up taller than Jak. And that thought was pure torture, especially when caught in the throes of intense muscle aches.

Regardless of the cause or what he thought about it, the problem left Daxter quite unable to sleep, and his stifled whines and whimpers of pain had, in turn, kept Jak awake as well. However, rather than being angry or trying to ignore the noise, Jak had stayed up most of the night with his friend, helping him relax and tough out the discomfort. During the day he had even tried to make up for the lack of sleep by allowing ottsel Dax to catch short naps when possible using his headscarf as a makeshift hammock.

//Yeah, he loves me,// Daxter thought in tired amusement, //or he would'a told me ta suck it up an’ thrown my cryin’ ass out on the couch instead of offerin’ ta rub my legs fer me. Jak, yer some kinda guy.//

The warm, heavy hand was still there, but had slowed drastically. Though it was barely fully night outside, Jak had drifted off.

“Looks like bedtime’s early tonight,” Dax muttered. Jak showed no sign that he had heard. Daxter perked up. “Hey, Jak? Don’t ya wanna turn off the light at least? Helloooo~?”

No response from the sleeping racer.

A wicked grin crept onto Dax’s furry face. He just loved messing with Jak. Very slowly the ottsel walked two fingers up his friend’s chest, across his collarbone, and poked him in the nose. Jak’s face twitched.

Smothering a laugh, Dax tucked two fingers into the corners of the green-blonde’s mouth and lifted upward, forcing a large smile onto his face. Jak shook his head and snorted in annoyance, but didn’t wake up. Dax was now stifling his laughter in the crook of one arm, his tail beginning to swish about in his mirth. It was immature, maybe, but oh, so much fun!

A feather light tickle across his cheeks made Jak’s hand shoot up, fitfully trying to smack away whatever was bothering him. With a muttered growl of displeasure he turned his face firmly into the pillow.

Still giggling, Daxter apologetically petted his friend’s goatee, fingers threading softly through the green hair. He still thought it looked kind of silly, but whatever. It was Jak’s face and he could let little random patches of bristles grow on it if he wanted. And no matter what anyone said, Daxter was absolutely *not* jealous of Jak’s ability to grow facial hair. After all, Orange Lightning was covered in hair, thank you very much.

Making a pleased sound, Jak shifted slightly and turned his face back into the petting. A small smile formed. Both hands moved to clasp over Daxter’s back, holding the ottsel to his chest like a stuffed animal.

“Hope ya realize how much I spoil ya,” Dax muttered affectionately, petting hand and swiping tail now moving slowly in sync. Not that it mattered much. He liked humoring Jak and probably always would. “It ain’t just anybody who gets ta wool a Precursor around, ya know.”

Yeah, he’d let Jakkie-boy get away with almost anything. And, with that in mind… mightn’t he have been giving Jak’s unwitting confession a little too much thought? When it came right down to it, the thought of the person closest to him being in love with someone else naturally made Daxter jealous. So, just maybe, the whole business was really no big deal. But then again…

It was too much to think about. Puzzling things like that for too long could break your brain. It seemed that in this case, gut instinct would have to be trusted over rational thought. Which was too bad, because all his gut was telling him at the moment was that he was hungry. Ottsels had high metabolism and the light dinner they’d had earlier was wearing off.

But a decision had to be made. Soon. Now.

//Screw this,// Daxter thought. //Screw it in the ear. Like there’s any two ways about what’s gonna happen here. I let Jak go fer *nothin’*.//

Clearing his throat quietly, he glanced up at Jak’s sleeping face in the dim light.

“Alright big guy, listen up,” he whispered softly. “This is pretty important, so pay attention while ya snooze.” A deep breath. “I don’t mind that ya love me like that. In fact, I’m kinda flattered. That means I’m gonna let this be an’ see what happens. Ya never know, I might surprise me. And just fer yer info, yer the only guy I’d ever even consider datin’ so I hope that makes ya feel pretty damn special, pal!”

Forgetting himself in the heat of his little speech, Daxter jabbed a finger into Jak’s chest to illustrate his point. He froze as the racer jerked awake, unfocused blue gaze landing on the ottsel still stretched out on his middle.

“What’d you say Dax?”

Daxter’s courage immediately deserted him. He crouched low on Jak’s chest and stomach, hackles raised and ears flying back in sudden alarm. “Nothin’! Goodnight!”

“Oh.” Jak blinked, then yawned hugely. “G’night. Get the light, would you?”

Dax jumped to it without protest, a bit shaken. He hadn’t really meant for Jak to hear what he had said, he just wanted to get the decision off his chest. Hopping onto the table to turn off the lamp, he crept slowly back to bed. By the time he cautiously slid back into his previous spot, Jak was again asleep.

Whew. That was a little too close for comfort. When he wanted Jak to know that his romantic advances might possibly be returned, he would darn well say it when his friend was awake and aware. Maybe.

Shrugging it off, Daxter rolled off Jak’s chest to land on his back in the crook of the racer’s arm. Tomorrow was another day. He would worry about the fine details later. Until then he could sleep soundly with Jak’s fingers drifting through the ruff of fur on his chest and his tail beginning to twitch in contentment once again.

Swish, swish, swish.

He let the rhythmic motion of his tail relax him, counting the swipes it made across the hills and valleys of the sheets. It had become his trick for falling asleep quickly, self-taught during the two years he was cold, alone, and Jak bereft every night. One, two… back and forth… left, bump, right, bump…

Wait a minute. “Bump?”

Daxter sat up in annoyance, wondering what the hell his tail might possibly be hitting. The only things in the bed were the pillows, himself, and Jak… Glaring through the darkness for several seconds, his eyes slowly widened as realization dawned.

He hadn’t been paying the slightest bit of attention to where his tail was going. The randomly roving appendage was gliding firmly and repetitively over the area between Jak’s lower belly and upper thigh, and the unintentional caress was having a bit of a... *pronounced* reaction on his bed-mate.

Oh.

Oh, damn.

With a muffled squeak of abject panic Daxter scrambled upright and shamelessly fled to the top of the bed, burrowing between Jak’s shoulder and the new pillows. He popped up by the headboard and crouched there wide-eyed and shivering, looking for all the world like a quivering orange weasel ball left on high.

Wow. Did *not* mean to do that. Really did not.

Dax gulped, daring a peek back down the bed. “Well, guess I’ll hafta get used ta *that*…”

Maybe this would be harder than he thought.

- - - - -

To be continued! (again…)

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(2nd) AN: So… um… yeah. I guess this means I’m in for the long haul, here… Sorry this chapter was a little shorter than last time, but it seemed like a good place to stop. Next one will probably be longer.

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