Talk to Me

AN: Alright everyone, I’m sorry the chapter is way late. My laptop crashed hard, rather like an unfortunate run on Jak X with a drunken crocadog behind the wheel. Also school sucks yacow. Ah, well. Life goes on. Here is chapter seven, and thank you for being so patient!

VeryNaughtyOttsel: Hmm, yeah, Tess just had to shoot him down somehow before he got *too* cocky. At least the little scamp is willing to help solve the problem she brought to light. But lol, you read my mind about Vin! Surely he knows everything there is to know about everything. I can truly see him fainting dead away if questioned about such a delicate subject, though…

killerfox: Nope, Jak and subtlety just don’t go hand in hand. It’s honestly a wonder the whole world doesn’t know he’s head over heels for his ottsel. Somewhere on the route between Haven and Kras is a billboard stating as much, I’m sure.

Arow: Thanks! Your review made my day, totally. I’m glad it’s entertaining even with its total lack of angst. I didn’t even think about the little voices of reason and temptation (*ahem* Light and Dark! *ahem*) being like the Emperor’s New Groove. God I love that movie… haven’t seen it in ages. If Enolianslave ever drew anything even remotely alike to that I would die of hilarity/happiness-osity. I’ll admit I fawn at that girl’s feet… she rocks.

kitkattcassy: *grabs a muffin and huggles back* Thank yeeeeeew!!! No I don’t get a lot of reviews like that, so this one positively rocks mah socks! I’m so glad you’re liking it that much! Yeah, I’m the one writing the thing and I still get frustrated for the boiz. And I absolutely could not give up on the ottsel form completely, since I have a total and complete fur fetish. (Shh, that’s a secret!) Hope you enjoy this chapter as much, bloopers included!

Disclaimer: Trust me; I’ll let you know if I ever get the rights. Until then, no ownie, no profitie. On with the fic!

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Jak was sweating bullets. Big, cold, unsettling bullets that were probably very obvious to the person sitting directly opposite him at the rickety wooden table. He held up what was left of his sandwich in a halfhearted attempt to erect some sort of barrier between himself and his source of nervousness. “Sorry, Keira, what did you say?”

“You heard me, Jak,” she laughed. “Stop avoiding the question. I asked you who it is you’re in love with, and don’t give me any of this ‘asking advice for my friend’ garbage. Tell me! I can keep a secret.”

//Trust me, you don’t want in on this one,// Jak thought, desperately stalling. Why had he thought he would be able to fool her? He should have known she would see right through his second-grade ploy.

He wanted to tell her, though. He wanted to tell her so badly it was maddening. However, he did not want her to scream, or slap him, or both. Most of all he did not want her to hare off and find Daxter, and tell the redhead that he needed to move out as soon as possible to protect his virtue. “Um…”

“Come on, Jak! Don’t you *trust* me?” Oh, no, there went the earnestly pleading puppy eyes. How many times during their childhood had those teary blue-green orbs managed to change his mind about something?

“Of course I trust you. It’s just that—”

“You’re embarrassed, I know. Oh, wait, how about if I guess who it is and you tell me whether or not I’m right? Hey, this’ll be fun!”

“Keira, listen,” the racer demanded. She stopped still, looking at him much more seriously. “You cannot tell anyone about this, alright? No one. Not Tess, not your father, not even Daxter.” Most especially not Daxter. “No one. Okay?”

“Okay. I promise.” The mechanic nodded solemnly. It was rare for something to truly upset Jak, and anything that did immediately ceased to be anything to giggle about. “Should I start guessing now?”

Jak drew a deep breath, then heaved a sigh. “Go ahead, I guess.”

In a way it was a huge relief. The time had finally come when he could share with someone what was constantly bothering him, when he might possibly find an ally with whom he might confide about this confounding topic. But, then again, he might also be about to thoroughly disgust his second-best friend. Once, not so long ago, he wouldn’t have minded so much, but now that he had forgiven her for the whole Erol thing the latter possibility held no appeal whatsoever.

“Alright.” Keira cocked her head to one side, thinking hard. “Is it a girl I know?”

“Er… yeah, you’ve met.” //Frequently.//

“Have you known her long?”

“Yes.” //Does ‘pretty much my whole life’ count?//

“Is she pretty?”

“Uh… I guess?” //Not really. But then, most guys aren’t.//

“I see.” The mechanic thoughtfully tapped the side of her lemonade glass with her fork. “Hmm… Is it Rayn?”

“No.”

“Tess?”

“No. Apparently she’s gone to the sleazy side.”

Keira grimaced. “I saw her and Jinx leaving the bar together the other day but she hasn’t told me anything about it yet. Creee-py. Anyway… Oh, I know! It’s Ashelin, isn’t it Jak? She kissed you once, didn’t she?”

Jak shook his head, green and gold strands swirling slightly as he did so. “No, Ashelin is with Torn. I think that kiss was just a fluke.”

She huffed in frustration. “Well then, give me something I can work with! So, you’ve known her for a while, I’ve met her before, and she isn’t Ashelin. Okay, does she at least have red hair like Ashelin?”

Jak froze.

“No, wait... I don’t know any other women with red hair. This is hard,” Keira mused.

The tension was unbearable. Forget unburdening himself, Jak had to get out of there. Abruptly he surged to his feet. “Keira, I gotta go.”

“Huh? But you just got here!” she protested, startled. “I had dessert and coffee planned if you’ll wait just a minute.”

“Sorry, I can’t. Thanks for the food, thanks for the talk, dessert next time—bye.” Pulling his flabbergasted friend into a quick but contrite hug, Jak split the scene as fast as he was able without actually running. He *would* stop running from things, he vowed silently. Power walking from them, however, was still highly acceptable.

- * - * - * - * -

Keira stood gazing after him for a long moment before finally turning her attention to the dirty dishes from the lunch. Stacking up the plates and cups, she began to whistle cheerfully. “Well, he’s still paranoid, but at least now I’m sure it’s not me he’s in love with.”

She was a modern, high-tech girl in a fast-paced world—for the moment, at least, tinkering with zoomers and running maintenance on racing vehicles held far more appeal than a steady date.

- * - * - * - * -

Safely removed from the severely strained situation, Jak made his way slowly back to the bar on foot. Damn. He needed to break down and just buy the silly zoomer from Keira, and save himself a lot of heat, dust, and tired feet. She would probably let it go, as she could always make another.

//I wonder what Dax would think if I did that. Not that he ever has to walk anywhere anyway.//

The racer suddenly paused, then sighed. It always came back to Daxter. He’ had been away from the little loudmouth for less than an hour and already his fingers were itching to run through that soft, pumpkin-colored fur.

Shoving his hands into his pockets where they could occupy themselves with tangible fabric rather than thoughts of fur, Jak continued on at a slightly brisker pace. //I really need to stop doing that, anyway.// Randomly petting people, even your best friends, was rude.

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

Meanwhile, back at the Naughty Ottsel, Daxter and Tess were no closer to a satisfactory solution to the most recent dilemma.

“An’ I was feelin’ so good today, too.” The redhead sighed melodramatically, chin resting on the bar. For lack of anything else to mess with he was absently nibbling at a pretzel from the bowl Tess had set out. They were a little stale, but that didn’t deter his bored chewing.

“Well, maybe I should have waited until you backed Jak into a corner and realized you didn’t know what to do with him before I brought it up?” the blonde asked pointedly. Daxter wisely let it go.

“Not that I’m not grateful to ya fer pointin’ out my lack of info, Tessy-babe, but it don’t help much if we still can’t figure it out! I draw the line at strollin’ down the block askin’ random strangers.”

“No, that probably qualifies as sexual harassment,” Tess agreed. “We really only need someone who knows what they’re talking about who would just sit down and tell you what to do. And, preferably, who would then keep their mouth shut about it.”

“Yeah, I like that last one.” The last thing Daxter wanted was for this mess to get blown out of proportion. If Jak ever suspected that anyone knew about their budding… thing… the racer would blow a gasket.

“Look on the bright side, Daxxie,” Tess said positively, reaching out to smooth his ruffled hair. “At least things can’t get any worse.”

All at once the back door flew open with a bang and a jangle. “Hellooo, beautiful! Jinxy’s here!”

“Can’t get worse, huh?” Ears laid back as far as they were able, Daxter directed a withering glare toward the mirror behind the bar as his second most annoying nemesis loudly entered the saloon. Coming in just behind Pecker and just before Samos, the dirty blonde bomb expert was pretty much the last person he wanted to see at the moment.

Completely ignoring the redhead, Jinx made a beeline for the buxom bartender. “Hey there, sugar! Howza’bout a little kiss fer a hot, tired, hard-workin’ guy?”

Tess’s immediate squeals and giggles literally made Daxter’s teeth grind. Funny, he had never thought them the least bit annoying when they were directed at Orange Lightning… Pointedly the redhead turned his attention elsewhere. At least the cobwebs in the corner had the decency to not make out in public(ish). “Aw, go get a room!”

For the first time since his entrance, Jinx seemed to take notice that Tess had not been alone. “Well, hey. Didn’t see ya there, pal. Come ta think of it, I haven’t ever seen ya ‘round here before. I think I woulda remembered a head like that.”

Hackles that Daxter didn’t even possess at that particular moment threatened to rise as Jinx dropped a heavy, dusty hand on top of his head and insolently ruffled his bright red hair. “Don’t touch me.”

“Whoa there, little guy, don’t get upset.” Chuckling at Dax’s obvious agitation, the bomber materialized a smoke from one of the many pockets on his bandoleer and casually lit up. “I was just playin’ with ya. So, uh, you got a name? Or can I call ya Bucky?”

Tess had to literally throw herself across the bar. Feet barely touching the floor behind the counter she frantically tried to restrain the furious redhead, gripping double handfuls of his new jacket as he lunged for the scruffy figure who dared insult his teeth.

“BUCKY?! Why you slimy, greasy, good-fer-nothin’—lemme go, Tess! I swear I oughta—!” Now that he was big enough to do it, laying a fist in Jinx’s stubbly mug seemed like a fantastic idea. If only Tess would quit hanging on him.

“Daxxie, please, settle down!”

Jinx whistled innocently, blowing a puff of smoke in Daxter’s general direction before turning once again to Tess. “Hey, darlin’? You haven’t seen the Jakmiester today have ya? For some weird reason I just get the feelin’ the pretty boy should be ‘round here somewhere…”

Daxter was seeing red. How dare he? How dare this skuzzy slime ball look at his Jak like that? It was bad enough that Jinx had poached Tess away, but be damned if he would ever get near Dax’s best buddy! “Hey, hey, hey! Don’t you ever let me catch ya callin’ him that, yer not even *close* ta good enough!”

“Simmer down, little man! What’s it to ya, anyway?” Planting a palm firmly on the irate redhead’s face, the bomber casually held Daxter and his swinging fists at bay. “I swear, Tessy, these racers are all nuts, every one of ‘em. Ya know, just the other day I ran into that Razer fella. Talk about weird. That guy prob’ly gets more ass than a toilet seat!”

Somehow, the words struck a chord. Daxter abruptly stopped struggling, shoving Jinx’s hand out of his face. “Hey. Say that again.”

Obviously enjoying the fact that he was rankling Dax, the dirty-blonde grinned wider and took another deep drag of his smoke. “I just said I think the guy’s prob’ly queer as they come. Now I ain’t sayin’ that’s a *bad* thing, ya know, but it’s… hey, where ya goin’?”

“Hot damn, that’s it!” Dismissing Jinx from his immediate thought processes, Daxter started for the door, much happier and with a new spring in his step. “Well kids, I’m gone. Don’t have too much fun, ya hear?”

Tess was immediately alarmed. “Wait, sweetie, you’re not really going to ask Razer, of all people—!”

“Laters!” With a cheerful wave the redhead zipped around the corner and out the back door. It seemed the tides of fortune were once more turning in his favor, whether or not his fat, fuzzy compadre in the Precursor corner had anything to do with it. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to get to Kras City and back without his constant companion knowing about it…

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

Jak’s mood had not improved by the time he reached the bar. The relief of nearly opening up and getting his problem out in the open had once more been replaced by gloom. That feeling immediately vanished, though, when the door of the Naughty Ottsel burst open and Daxter literally fell down the steps into his arms.

“Heya, Jakkie-boy!” he chirped brightly, a wide grin plastered on his face. “What’s shakin’?”

Smiling himself on the inside, Jak made a great show of looking up at the sky. “Nothing, other than I think it’s raining redheads. You better watch where your feet are going or you’re gonna kill yourself one of these days.”

“Sure, sure,” was the absent reply.

“What are you so happy about?” Jak wondered.

His friend didn’t look drunk. In fact, and this was a real rarity, he couldn’t smell any booze on him at all. Finding that he was leaning forward unconsciously, Jak had to forcibly stop himself from pulling Daxter closer and inhaling deeply right next to his ear. Not only would Dax probably squeal and smack him for tickling, but a gesture like that was way too intimate. Distance, distance was the key that would keep him sane.

“Here, pal, take a look around.” Almost giddily, Dax grabbed Jak by the goatee and directed his face in all sorts of interesting directions.

Jak, used to the maneuver, put up with it. “And?”

“What do ya not see?”

“Uh… a lot of things, I guess.”

“Bzzzt, wrong!” the redhead laughed. “Ya don’t see a greasy, babe-stealin’ arsonist anywhere out here, an’ that itself is clearly more than enough reason fer celebration, wouldn’t ya say?”

Jak swore. “Jinx was in there? He didn’t recognize you, did he?”

“Nah, don’t sweat it. He knew he knew me, but he didn’t know, know what I mean? He asked Tessy if ya were around anywhere but he couldn’t get why he thought ya should be. So he kinda got that he’s seen us together but he didn’t recognize me as me lookin’ like this, ya dig?”

Jak huffed. Somehow it didn’t surprise him that the bomber’s subconscious was smarter than he was. “Well, that’s fine, I guess. Come on, let’s get back to the house before someone smarter than Jinx *does* realize who you are.”

“Just tell ‘em I’m an old buddy from out’a town. They’ll buy it.”

“I’d rather not. We’d have to call you something different.”

“Ya could say we’re such great pals ya named yer pet after me.”

They kicked around ideas all the way home, for once walking side by side. Some of Daxter’s were so outrageous that the racer had to laugh.

“Okay, okay, I got it!” Daxter finally announced as they arrived, springing lightly up the front steps. “Yer ottsel got splattered by a dirt huggin’ zoomer an’ ya were so distraught over it that ya had ta start callin’ yer long-lost buddy by his name. See, then I can walk human without fear.”

“Yeah,” Jak chuckled, “and if you fake killing off Orange Lightning you’d never be able to walk ottsel in public again. You don’t want that, right?”

“Neh, I guess not. I’m kinda attached ta my tail. It follows me everywhere, ya know. Hey, make fruit salad fer dinner!”

For the rest of the evening Jak was continually amused by his friend’s good mood, even if it did result in them spitting watermelon seeds at each other for a full ten minutes and having a mad dish towel snapping fight in the middle of the kitchen. Whatever the reason for it, Daxter’s happiness seemed contagious. Jak drew the line, however, at the obnoxious little redhead slipping into the bathroom while he was showering and dumping a pitcher of ice water over the top of the bath curtain.

“Damn it, Dax, enough is enough!” The hysterical, rapidly retreating laughter just begged him to rise to the bait and play chase, but he wasn’t going to budge this time. Another round of uncomfortable situations in bath towels was not on his agenda that evening.

“Eh, yer no fun.”

Jak smiled smugly as he rinsed the last vestiges of shampoo and cold water out of his hair. Of course Dax didn’t expect him to be the mature one and let it go. However, the sudden pensive silence on the other side of the door was also unexpected. He wondered at it, shaking suds from his ears and stroking conditioner into green-blonde locks. “Dax?”

“Hey Jak, listen. If yer busy I think I’m gonna slip out fer a while, okay?”

Jak’s hand closed convulsively around the bottle of conditioner and it shot out of his grip, clattering loudly as it fell to the bottom of the tub. “What?”

“I said I’m goin’ out fer a while.”

“You’re leaving? By yourself?” For reasons unknown even to himself Jak was near panic at the idea, rushing to rinse the goop out of his hair and already groping outside the curtain for a towel. “Dax, wait, I’ll go with you!”

Through his alarm he could hear the redhead laughing. “Ya can’t baby-sit me forever, pal. Don’t worry, I won’t be gone too long.”

“Daxter!”

He was too late, though. By the time he had hastily thrown the towel around himself and wrestled the bathroom door open to rush out, still dripping, Daxter was gone. Jak hurried to the front door to catch him as he went down the street, but strangely there was no sign of the redhead.

//He must’ve been walking pretty fast,// Jak mused.

Suddenly realizing how silly he must look standing in the door in a wet towel, he forcibly stifled his worry and ducked back inside. He wouldn’t stoop to making a scene and chasing his fully grown and capable best friend down the road so he could hold his hand and keep him out of trouble. All he could do now was hope to Mar there wouldn’t *be* any trouble for Dax to get into, wherever he was going.

Not that that scenario was particularly likely.

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

Night was falling over Kras City. In a rather stylish room adjacent to one of the bigger garages in a nicer part of town, the most suave racer around was busy. He was not busy hatching diabolical schemes against Jak and his entire sphere of influence, however. Tonight Razer was occupied with making himself dinner.

Whipping off his apron, Razer surveyed the dinner tray loaded with his handiwork: soup and a light salad, a gently toasted cheese and tomato sandwich, and a small glass of perfectly aged wine. “Hmm. Something eez missing...”

Glancing around the small kitchen, his eyes alighted upon the bright floral arrangement he had earlier received from a group of female fans. Plucking off a tiny bloom he placed it with great care at the rim of the wine glass with a triumphant kiss of his fingertips.

“Mm-wah! Perfect! Now, to relax and watch mah favorite program.”

Carefully balancing the tray, Razer made his way to the large, expensively upholstered armchair in the next room. He was just settling in, tying a napkin around his neck and reaching for the remote, when a crash of epic proportions echoed from the garage.

Swearing under his breath, the racer shoved the tray out of his way and lunged to his feet. Throwing down his napkin he stormed to the door and slammed it open, flipping on the bright florescent lights with a snarl. “Damned raccoons, stay out of mah garage! …what in zee ‘ell?”

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

Daxter tried and failed to struggle upright, hampered by the tire around his shoulders. His smooth yet showy Precursor entrance had not gone quite the way he had wanted it to.

Finally throwing off the encumbering circle of rubber, the redhead tossed it back onto the pile he had fallen headfirst into, in the process nearly slipping on the large expanse of slick automotive paint he had accidentally spilled when he had crashed into a stack of shelving.

//Guess I’ll hafta work on this a little. This Precursor crap is harder than it looks.//

“…what in zee ‘ell?”

The confused, amazed, and yet still somewhat indignant exclamation made Daxter jump as the lights flashed on. Slowly he turned to face the dumbfounded racer he hoped would soon lead him to enlightenment, brushing dust and grease off his clothes. //Just play it cool, Daxxie-baby, play it cool. It’ll all be worth it in the end.//

“Ah… hey, Razer! What up, buddy? Hope I’m not, uh, interrupting anythin’.”

“Who are you and how in zee name of daytime soaps did you get in here?”

Nonchalantly Daxter brushed by the thoroughly disgruntled gang member and made his way into the living quarters. “Consider me a friend in need, pal. Hey, is that a grilled cheese? Don’t mind if I do.”

“Get out of mah house right now!” Razer was obviously taken aback and obviously hated it. “Put down mah sandwich, you rude leetle twit! Ah have a gun, you know.”

Somehow Daxter didn’t doubt it. He probably would have been shot already had Razer seen him as a threat rather than a mere unexpected annoyance. As it was, half the sandwich in his mouth, the redhead appeared roughly as threatening as a tulip. “Great grilled cheese, here. Make it yerself?”

Razer was rapidly turning a fetching shade of deep crimson. Pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his housecoat he jammed one in the corner of his mouth and lit up, puffing madly away at it while spastically tapping one slippered foot. “Yes… yes Ah did. Would you care to step outside so zat Ah might run you ovah with mah car?”

“Nah, no thanks. This chair’s pretty comfy, now that ya mention it. So, Razer.” He searched desperately for small talk that might break the ice and melt through the freezing waves of glaciosity being sent his way from the annoyed racer. “With an accent like that, where ya from, anyway? Ya a Frenchman? German maybe?”

Razer puffed harder than ever at the cigarette, an unreadable expression on his face. “Ah’m from a leetle nation called Go-Fuck-Yourself, you annoying twit! Now for zee last time, get lost!”

“Wha?!” Daxter’s eyes bulged, his mouth gaping in astonishment. Then he grinned. Scathing sarcasm; now *that* he understood. Happily he licked the last of the grease from the sandwich off his fingers. The soup looked good, too. “Damn. Ya know, Razer, given time… a long time… I think I could get ta like ya.”

“Why are you here, peasant?” the racer demanded on a hiss, forcefully stabbing out the cigarette butt on the counter top as Daxter moved in on another course of his dinner. “Why do you come here, to mah garage, in zee middle of zee night, and why can Ah not be rid of you? And why zee ‘ell are you eating mah food?!”

“Uh… well, see, yeah, that’s a story right there,” the redhead began, suddenly nervous. He hadn’t exactly thought about how he was going to phrase the questions he desperately needed answered. “I guess I kinda need a favor.”

“Ah don’t even know you! Why should Ah do anything for you other than arrange you a nice ride to prison for breaking and entering?”

“’Cause I only need ya ta answer a couple’a questions fer me, then I’ll be a good boy an’ disappear.” Dax smiled charmingly. “An’ if ya don’t, I hang around ‘til I drive ya insane. Yer choice.”

“Quite frankly mah choice would be to waste you here and now if that wouldn’t be considered exceptionally rude.”

“So then, will ya talk ta me?”

“And Ah say yet again, Ah do not even know who you are!” Razer ripped another cigarette from the pack, looking at once disbelieving and annoyed as hell. “All Ah ask from life eez zee weekends off, a leetle time to tinker with mah car and watch mah shows without zat idiot Mizo in mah face, eez zat so much to ask? Now Ah have crazy redheaded persons sabotaging mah home in zee night, what zee ‘ell else can happen?”

“Uh, the crazy redhead could ask ya if yer gay.” Dax spit it out in a rush around the lip of the soup bowl. It was now, while there was an opening, or never. “An’ he might need some info about that subject, if ya know what I’m sayin’…”

Razer stood dead silent, regarding Daxter while the second cigarette burned itself down between his fingers. Finally the racer laughed, stubbing out the butt and rubbing a hand over his suddenly serene face. “Alright, Ah know what zis eez. Ah’m asleep in mah chair and zis is all a horrible nightmare zat will go away as soon as Ah wake up.”

“No, no, no!” Taking a turn at being frustrated, Dax left the soup and jumped out of the armchair. “Seriously, I’m not kiddin’ here! How’m I supposed’ta bang Jak if no one’ll tell me how?!”

Another silence. Slowly, Razer arched a smooth brow. “Bang… Jak, eh?”

//Crap!// Dax slapped a hand over his mouth, mad at himself and his quick tongue that liked to blurt things out before his brain caught up with it. //Wasn’t supposed’ta say that.//

“Now Ah know Ah’m dreaming. A scrawny brat incarnation of dear Jak’s pet rat wants to know how to screw him.” Smiling whimsically, Razer pulled forth cigarette number three. “Oh well. At least zee darling boy has finally found himself a lover. Ah was beginning to think zat something was wrong with him.” Flicking his lighter absently the racer stared off into space, then suddenly began to laugh loudly. “Damn! What does zis say about zee state of mah subconscious? Ah must be going crazy!”

“Oh, shut up!” Completely disregarding the fact that Razer had inadvertently pieced together the mystery of his identity, Daxter grabbed the television remote off the arm of the chair and pitched it at the laughing racer’s head. “See if I ever ask fer yer help again, ya ass!”

“Ouch! Why, you evil leetle bastard!”

“Yeah, ya like that? Huh? Ya like that, jerk? Who’s laughin’ now, huh?!”

Razer rubbed sorely at his jaw, staring at the ranting redhead with a calculating eye. “Per’aps Ah’m not as asleep as Ah thought… Oh, what does it matter? You certainly have no idea how to ask for favors, anyway. Somehow Ah cannot picture darling Jak with such a… how shall Ah put zis…? Such a *blunt* boy as yourself.”

“Well start picturin’ bub, ‘cause Jak’s my best buddy an’ he likes me like I am!” Daxter huffed, willing the blush off his face and ears. How dare the snotty gang member insult *his* personality? At least he didn’t talk like some fancy big shot and patronize the racing opposition.

“Then you are in fact Jak’s rat, are you not?” Razer seemed to have gathered himself back together. He was puffing calmly at the cigarette again.

“Heh, wouldn’t you like ta know.”

“Yes, definitely zee rat.” Satisfied, the suave racer blew a smoke ring at the ceiling. “Same bad attitude. Listen, boy. Ah don’t care whether or not Ah am dreaming at zis point, or who you are, or what leetle animals you choose to look like in your spare time. But let us get one thing straight. Ah help no one for free.”

Daxter had been prepared for that. “I figured. Well, then, what can I do ya for? I don’t exactly have any money or anythin’.”

A smirk that Dax wasn’t quite sure he liked slowly spread across Razer’s face. “Oh, don’t worry, my noisy leetle friend, I’m sure we can work *something* out.”

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

Jak sighed for the umpteenth time that evening, rolling over listlessly and almost tumbling off the old couch he was camped upon. He had never thought the old sofa particularly comfortable, but now it was positively unbearable.

Daxter had left. He had actually gone out and left Jak all alone, and the truth was finally starting to hit home. As the minutes and hours the redhead was gone ticked slowly by, Jak began to mope.

How often had he dreamed of nights like this? His best friend human once more, no missions or races to occupy their time, and Daxter able to go out and really have fun… with him. With Jak. Together. Truly the Demolition Duo again, once more of like species and still inseparable. The idea that Dax might actually want to do anything *without* him was one Jak had never entertained.

//Come on, get over it,// the green-blonde tried to tell himself, face buried sulkily in the rough upholstery. //It’s not like we’re kids anymore. It’s not like we’ve got to be together *constantly.* It’s fine if Dax wants some alone time. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you any more, idiot.//

It sure felt like it, though.

//Where was he going that he didn’t want me with him? Where did he have to be in such a hurry he couldn’t wait five minutes for me? I could’ve been ready in five! Huh. He’s probably forgiven Tess and gone back to the bar to drool all over her.//

Tess, who Jinx had drooled all over.

Jinx drool all over Dax.

Forcefully Jak shoved himself off the sofa. For a split second he considered a foray to the Naughty Ottsel, but almost immediately let it go. He could not, would not butt in on Dax’s personal affairs uninvited.

The decision depressed him so much that for another split second Jak considered calling Torn, just to talk. That notion was also immediately discarded. Odds were if Torn picked up at all there would be nothing but two sets of heavy breathing on the other end for Jak to talk to. There was no way Ashelin wouldn’t be wherever Torn was on a free night.

With a groan the racer headed for the bathroom and his toothbrush therein. No reason now why he shouldn’t just go to bed. Anyway, sleeping was better than lying around on that damn lumpy sofa wondering what Daxter was doing without him and whether or not he wished Jak was there. However, the green-blonde couldn’t help but be a little resentful as he ferociously brushed away at his pearly whites.

Daxter had Tess, or at least a share in Tess. Torn and Ashelin had each other. Keira had her inventions and Vin had his experiments and Sig had… well, Jak wasn’t sure what Sig had but the point was what did Jak have? A big fat nothing, that’s what Jak had. He had finally lived to see Daxter human again, his fondest wish (well, one of two of his fondest wishes), and what did he have to show for it? No longer even a loyal ottsel companion to warm his shoulder and laugh quietly in his ear.

Sighing deeply, Jak switched off the lamp and fell into bed. Screw waiting up for Daxter, he knew the way home.

“I am so getting a crocadog.”

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

“Ah!” Daxter gasped sharply, throwing back his head and arching his back. “Stop! I told ya not ta touch that!”

“Ah wanted to see if it eez still leaking.”

“Well knock it off, it’s drippin’ right in my freakin’ eye! Ya can turn the water back on when I say!”

The redhead was not the happiest of campers. On his back under Razer’s kitchen sink, he worked diligently, wrench in hand, as the posh racer looked on and occasionally twisted the tap against Daxter’s direct orders. The resultant dripping had gone so far as to force Dax to put his goggles over his eyes, the first time he had done so since before he could remember.

“I don’t remember signin’ up ta be no handyman. Swear ta Mar, I’m gonna have Jak run yer ass over next time we race, nancy-boy...”

Razer smiled lewdly, sucking lazily on another cig. Dax had lost count of what number it was. “Yes, well. Anything involving Jak and ass, mine or his, will surely be fine with me.”

The redhead growled as another drop of water landed on the bridge of his goggles. “Watch it, pal. Soon as ya tell me what I wanna know that ass’ll be off limits fer the rest’a his natural life an’ then some.”

The racer chuckled. “Forgive me if Ah’m mistaken, dear boy, but it almost seems to me as if you think zat you will be zee one, er, on *top* in zis relationship.”

“An' what if?”

“In zat case Ah am very sorry to be zee one to tell you so, but Ah’m terribly afraid zat it isn’t possible.”

“An' why ain’t it possible, might I ask?” Under the sink, Dax gave a rusty joint a particularly hard knock with the wrench. “Best buddy intuition tells me Jak ain’t gonna know crap. That means I lead, right?”

“Wrong.” Somehow, Razer managed to casually blow smoke down into Dax’s airspace. “Zee law of relationships of men with men clearly states zat zee stronger, taller, more muscular, or otherwise manlier man shall be on top.”

“Like hell!”

“Sorry, zat’s just zee way it eez.”

Abruptly, Daxter slammed down the wrench and stood up, pulling his goggles back into their customary place of honor atop his mess of fiery hair. “Listen. Yer sink’s fixed. Yer house is dusted, yer carpet’s clean an’ I changed the bulb in the fridge. I did my part’a the deal, now cough up the info! How, exactly, do I go about givin’ Jakkie-boy the business?”

Razer quirked a brow thoughtfully. “You say you are done?”

“Yeah. Now I need the mechanics. The how-to. The fly-by, the overview, ya diggin’ me here?”

“You’re completely finished?”

“Yes! I need details, and don’t give me no more’a that ‘buff-guy-runs-the-show’ crap. I don’t really need ta hear about yer sick fantasies.” Fists perched on lean hips, Daxter waited expectantly… only to be forcibly hurled out the front door moments later.

“Thank you for zee lovely maid service, dear Daxter. I wish you and darling Jak zee best together. Please, stop by any time--any time zat Ah am not at home.”

“Hey, wait!” Scrambling to his feet, Dax glared sorely at the door that had been shut in his face. “You ass, we had a deal! Get back out here, jerk-off, ya didn’t tell me *anything!* I swear ta the Precursors, I’m not leavin’ until I get what I came for—!”

Ranting and raving, the redhead unfortunately did not notice the door opening again until something came flying out of it. A heavy rectangular object, followed shortly by a smaller, lighter one, smoked him right between the eyes. “Ouchie…”

“Goodnight!” Another slam of the door.

Rubbing his head fiercely and feeling about in the darkness, Daxter finally managed to find what had hit him. Cursing Razer under his breath he collected the strange objects and stumbled over to the dubious glow of a streetlight to take stock of what he held.

“What the heck?”

It was a box of condoms, and a book.

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

Jak was nearly asleep when he finally heard the front door open. A bleary glance at the softly illuminated face of the clock confirmed it; it was past midnight. Daxter had been out for over four hours.

//I will not get angry,// he told himself firmly, rolling over pointedly so he wouldn’t be facing the door if Dax came into the bedroom. //I will not be upset. Daxter is an adult and he can do whatever the hell he wants. It’s none of my concern.//

Closing his eyes tightly the green-blonde tried to go back to sleep. Very soon, however, the door creaked softly open and a dim shaft of light from the lamp in the other room fell across Jak’s pillow. He didn’t know why, but suddenly, for some childish reason he felt that he didn’t want Daxter to know that he had been waiting up. He lay perfectly still, breathing deep and even, waiting for the redhead to either turn ottsel and get in bed or go away.

However, Daxter did neither. Jak listened intently, but he couldn’t hear any movement one way or another. So Dax was… just standing in the doorway? //What the heck’s he doing?//

Finally the redhead began to move, slowly stepping into the darkness of the room. Jak continued to play opossum, lying motionless as Daxter inched closer. At last he could feel his friend hovering right next to the bed.

//Oh please… please change ottsel before you jump in here, please, please, please…//

Dax again did nothing, though. Jak’s curiosity was eating him alive. If he but opened his eyes he could see Dax, see his face, his expression, and maybe get the barest clue what was going on. Hell, he could just sit up and casually ask if Daxter had had fun out on the town, but damned if his pride would allow *that.*

So he waited, refusing to open his eyes, and thus nearly jumped out of his skin when Daxter’s hand suddenly landed lightly on his head. The green-blonde struggled to remain still and silent as cautious fingers gently twined in a lock of his hair. Almost petting him, really.

//Let me repeat: what the hell?//

Jak was beyond confused. But what confused him most, instead of what was going on, was what wasn’t going on. He couldn’t smell any residual smoke on Dax. No liquor. No perfume. Thank Mar, no perfume. The redhead wasn’t giggling like he was being stupid or playing a joke. And there was the complete lack of anything but tenderness in the soft touches in his hair.

//Knock it off,// Jak sneered at himself. //There’s nothing romantic about this. He’s probably just feeling guilty about leaving poor, pitiful, ‘sit-around-the-house-on-a-Saturday-night-because-he-has-no-life’ me behind. That’s all.//

However, that did not necessarily mean that he could not secretly enjoy it when Daxter played with his hair, or when he softly brushed it off the racer’s face and tucked it behind one long, graceful ear. One must take what they can get, after all.

But then the redhead murmured something that spiked Jak’s curiosity over the top. “Sleep tight, pal. I gotta go do my homework right now, but startin’ tomorrow we’re gonna have *lots’a* fun.” And then he smoothed his thumb over Jak’s jawbone, from green goatee to slightly flushed cheek, before slipping quietly out again and closing the door with a soft snick.

After his friend had gone Jak lay there, mind racing and heart fluttering embarrassingly. What did Dax mean, “homework”? Well. He certainly had no idea what that had been about, but it had definitely been pleasant enough.

The racer was no longer annoyed, anyway. He could hear Daxter, cleared of all suspicions of carousing, trying to move around quietly in the next room. His buddy was back home where he belonged, and that was all that really mattered. Smiling, he rolled back over and closed his eyes once more, sure that when he awoke it would be next to a snoozing ottsel who wouldn’t mind getting a cuddle or two.

Little did Jak suspect however, as he fell into a much more contented sleep and Daxter settled down in the next room for a long night of reading, exactly what the morning would bring.

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

To be continued, when I have time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(2nd) AN: *giggles hysterically* He-heh. Ha ha-ha-ha! I… got… it… DONE!!! No thanks to work and my stupid edja-ma-cashun. Mucho thanks, though, to my gal pal (and fellow JxD yaoi enthusiast) J-chan for helping me out with the bloopers and part of Razer’s scene. Thanks a lot, J!

Heavy shonen-ai/lime/boyxboy messing about next chappie. Promises.

There, now that’s done… on with the bloopers!

- - - - -

Razer: Damned raccoons, stay out of mah garage…! (sees Daxter) Good lord, you’re zee ugliest raccoon Ah’ve ever seen.

Daxter: If I was a raccoon I’d go out’a my way ta give ya rabies.

- - - - -

Razer: ((purr)) You know, for a loud, annoying, bucktoothed boy you sure know how to handle your pipes.

Daxter: Uh. He-heh… (is scared)

- - - - -

Daxter: (sweat) Yer, uh… yer kinda freakin’ me out a bit there, buddy…

Razer: (smirk) What, being on your back and unable to see with your hands occupied and unable to defend yourself in mah presence makes you nervous?

Daxter: Well, when ya put it that way… yes!!

- - - - -

Daxter: (pets Jak) Sleep tight, pal. I gotta go do my homework right now, but startin’ tomorrow we’re gonna have lots’a fun.

Jak: (sits up and smirks) Who does homework nowadays, jeez.

Daxter: (is tossed down) No, wait, I don’t know what’a do yet!! Gyaaah!! (screams like a girl) I’m supposed’ta be on toooooop!!

- - - - -