Disclaimer: JKA does not own Jak and Daxter. Otherwise TLF wouldn't exist and in between every major plot point there'd be endless JaKeiraness.
JKA: Hey guys! Everyone enjoying the holiday season? Yours truly is back, with another story about a different couple besides my OTP. Because even badasses like Torn and Ashelin need love, too, right? This is set after Jak 3, and the ending of which that I'll just leave a certain tattooed pair to argue about. Usual disclaimers apply. Read, review, and I hope all you TornxAsh fans find this to your liking~
A lone figure hovered over the edge of the large communications device that dominated the center of the Freedom League headquarters. His face was bathed in the scarlet glow cast by the machine, throwing the dark tattoos etched along his skin into sharp relief. He lifted a calloused hand to rub his bloodshot eyes, exhaustion pricking at his every nerve as he poured over various maps and reconstruction plans.
The second Metal Head war may have been over and the Dark Makers defeated, but Torn's workload had not diminished in the slightest. While people were no longer being slaughtered in the streets, Haven itself had been reduced to little more than a mountain of scorched rubble. Torn had buried himself up to his ears in paperwork since returning from Jak's victory celebration in Spargus, determined to restore the city to its former glory as swiftly as possible.
At least, that was the reason he told himself was behind the past few weeks of sleepless nights and self-imposed isolation.
Of course, in some remote recess of his mind, he knew the real basis of his sudden spike in antisocial behavior. It was a concept he refused to acknowledge, even to himself; anyone who had somehow mustered the courage to question him about it in recent days had received nothing but a few razor-edged words and a stony glare in response.
No, Torn could never admit to the constant ache that had been plaguing his chest as of late, or the way his entire body froze whenever her name was mentioned. To display his emotions would be a show of weakness that no self-satisfied commander could afford, not when he had several hundred soldiers and comrades who looked to him to be their rock, their steadfast leader.
Even if underneath the firm and collected façade, he was crumbling to pieces.
Stifling a yawn, the forlorn elf swept a few auburn strands that had fallen loose from his dreadlocks out of his face. He knew he needed to turn in for the night before he collapsed on the communications board, but he couldn't quite summon the enthusiasm to drag himself to his quarters. Undoubtedly he'd just lie awake until the first light of dawn broke through his window, haunted by the very thing he tried so hard not to think about.
Damn Jak. Damn him to the lowest circle of hell where he belongs, the arrogant jackass.
He'd just managed to convince himself that a slim chance at rest was better than none at all when the metallic entrance doors parted, instantly capturing his attention. His icy-blue eyes narrowed upon recognizing the redhead standing in the threshold, ignoring the painful wrench on his heartstrings that accompanied the realization.
Now what's she doing here?
"Torn," Ashelin greeted him curtly, striding purposefully into the room and halting on the opposite side of the hologram machine from him.
The commander offered her no reply, merely fixed her with a blazing scowl that had made uncountable men nearly piss themselves in fear.
Although, he hated to admit, Ashelin was more confident and headstrong than any man he'd ever encountered, apart from a certain blonde ex-renegade. There was no chance of her losing her nerve when faced with one of Torn's trademark glowers — she knew him far too well for that.
"Why are you out of bed, soldier?" Ashelin's tone was clipped, almost accusatory, her words cracking through the tension in the air like the shattering of ice.
"Could ask you the same question," Torn grunted, folding his arms over his chest, glare unwavering.
"I don't believe that's any of your business, now is it?" The governess held his scorching gaze evenly, hands on her hips, eyes hard as solid jade.
Another beat of charged silence passed, both tattooed figures rigid, neither showing any sign of relaxing.
Finally, Torn heaved an exasperated sigh, unable to stand the pressure any longer.
"Look, I've got a lot on my plate right now," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyelids shut briefly. "I don't have time to sit around and watch you burn a hole in my forehead all night. What do you want, Ashelin?"
"Am I not allowed to pay an innocent visit to my commander?" Ashelin inquired simply, shrugging. Her features were layered with indifference, but anxiety flickered in her deep green irises, escaping her careful composure — a reaction that Torn immediately picked up on.
"Don't bullshit me," he growled, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "After weeks of pretending I don't exist, you can't expect me to believe you'd go to the trouble of coming to find me at this hour just because you felt like it. You've never done anything unless there was a reason behind it. So why are you here?"
For a moment it seemed that Ashelin wasn't going to answer him. She merely stared levelly at him over the comm. table, expression smooth and giving nothing away.
You can't lie to me, Ash. Just get it over with and drive another knife through my heart so we can move on with our lives.
As if she could read his thoughts, Ashelin gradually seemed to deflate, her shoulders sagging and her abrasive posture softening. She placed her hands on the edge of the machine separating them, her guard lowering just enough to reveal a glimmer of sadness in her eyes.
"You know why I'm here," she sighed, breaking away from his gaze in favor of studying a random scatter of notes on the table. Her voice was strong, despite the clear resignation in it. She'd obviously been hoping to avoid this turn in the conversation — or at least put it off a while longer.
"And I don't want to talk about it," Torn bit back harshly, repressing a cringe as another agonizing jolt lanced through his chest. "What's done is done. Sorry to disappoint you, but even you can't change that, governess."
He spat the title like a disgusting swear word, and Ashelin flinched ever-so-slightly; Torn was so attuned to her subtle body language that it did not escape his notice. "Don't bother trying to fix anything. It's not worth it."
There's nothing you can say that'll make things right in my eyes.
Head held high, he stormed around the perimeter of the holo-communicator, making a beeline for the exit. He shoved past the redhead without so much as a glance in her direction, a vindictive smirk ghosting over his lips.
Go tell your sob story to someone who cares.
Barely a hairsbreadth remained between him and his escape, one foot through the open door and sticking out in the hallway, when Ashelin's voice halted him in his tracks.
"Torn, wait."
If she'd yelled at him, it would have been far too easy to just walk away. A furious Ashelin he could handle — he'd experienced it firsthand often enough to know how to react, to be prepared for it. To simply turn his back on her would be a cinch, and no doubt he would have done so out of pure spite.
But she didn't yell. She didn't even raise her voice. Quite the opposite, her words were so soft he scarcely heard them, brimming with a level of remorse he'd never imagined possible for her. The sudden change shocked him into staying, lingering in the doorway a moment longer — if only to understand where this strange side of her was coming from.
"Look, I'm sorry, ok?" Her tone was smoother than it had been only seconds ago, more controlled. An edge of desperation still leaked into her speech, however, despite her apparent attempts to rein in her emotions.
Torn was quick to pick up on that trace of hopelessness, but he disregarded it, not allowing it to chip away at the mental wall he'd built between them. He simply hovered in the threshold with his back to her, reluctant curiosity freezing him to the spot as he waited for her to continue.
"I never meant for anything to happen between Jak and me," Ashelin stammered in a rush, as though a dam had suddenly burst in her mind and her thoughts were tumbling out of her mouth in full flood. "Both of us were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. That kiss was a stupid, spur-of-the-moment mistake."
"No kidding," Torn hissed under his breath, nails digging into his palms so hard they nearly drew blood. Ashelin had managed to reopen the wounds she'd inflicted upon him that fateful day in the wasteland with only a few short sentences. A fresh wave of hurt and betrayal crashed over him, only succeeding in igniting a simmer of anger somewhere in the pit of his stomach.
"I'm serious, Torn." A spark of irritation was evident in her voice now, overpowering her previous anxiety. Torn almost smiled in spite of himself as her fiery temper began to make itself known. Almost.
"Really?" he questioned scathingly, finally turning to face her. He was unsurprised to find himself met by a stony glare and hands placed firmly on perfect hips — the latter being a detail he didn't permit his gaze to rest on for long. "If your little interaction with Jak" — the name dripped like venom through his clenched teeth — "was just 'a stupid mistake', then why have you been avoiding me ever since? Been too busy throwing yourself at some cocky, pain-in-the-ass hero to spare me a second glance?"
"Excuse me?" Ashelin snapped, embers of rage flickering in the depths of her jade irises. "I've been avoiding you? Who's the one that's practically locked himself in his office for the past few weeks? How many people have you even spoken to since we came back to Haven?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" As much as he resented the idea, he couldn't deny that she was right. He'd been seeing the interior of the Freedom League headquarters so often lately that he'd all but memorized every crack and bump in the walls.
He wasn't about to surrender to her, though, not when there were more pressing matters to deal with — namely getting her off his back so that he could return to sulking and planning Jak's demise in peace. "You don't give a shit about what I do or don't do anyway, so why does it even matter?"
"It matters because you've been acting like a complete bastard for no reason!" She advanced toward him a step, raising a hand to run her fingers exasperatedly through her scarlet hair. "If you'd just listen for five seconds so I could explain what happened —"
"I already know what happened," Torn cut her off briskly, arms refolding themselves over his chest. "The least you could do is spare me from having to hear about it again."
Wasn't breaking my heart once enough for you, Ashelin?
A beat of rigid silence passed, tension crackling in the air between them with the intensity of a lightning strike. Torn's icy eyes narrowed a fraction as Ashelin straightened up to her full height, her blazing gaze locked with his, looking every bit the powerful and headstrong governess she was.
"You're wrong, Commander." The words ripped from her throat like a snarl, filled with so much authority and barely-restrained fury that Torn didn't dare contradict her. "You may think you understand, but you have no idea what the hell you're talking about. No self-respecting soldier would ever value his stubborn pride above his comrades; you know that as well as I. So you'll hear what I have to say, or I swear to Mar, as your superior, I will personally make sure you regret it."
The former Underground leader was fairly confident that Ashelin's threat was an empty one, — she'd never truly done anything to hurt him before, not until just recently — but he was far from willing to bet on the slim chance that she'd actually follow through with it. Ashelin was a woman of her word, that much was certain, and he really didn't want to find out what she would do to him if he defied her.
Never mind the fact that the scorching glare she was still sending his way was remarkably persuasive in its own right.
With no small amount of displeasure, he offered her a stiff nod as means of surrender, face void of any emotion.
Obviously satisfied that she'd outwitted him, Ashelin permitted herself to relax a bit, slender arms crossing themselves over her chest to that her stance nearly mirrored his.
"Torn," she began coolly, the heat of her anger extinguished now that she had a captive audience, "I truly am sorry about what happened. I've never felt guiltier about anything in my life — and you know I've done some shitty things."
That alone was enough to knock the tattooed man down a peg or two. Not once in the uncountable years he'd known her had Torn ever heard Ashelin genuinely apologize to anyone, least of all to him. He probably wouldn't have believed it if not for the undeniable sincerity in her voice.
"I doubt I could even tell you what I was thinking when I saw Jak come strolling out of that explosion, smirking like it was just a part of the daily routine." A bitter laugh fell from her lips, her shadowed green eyes flickering to the floor, and then back up to meet his. "I was so freaking ecstatic that we were all still breathing, I just reacted with the first thing that popped into my head. If it had been Tess that had saved our sorry asses, I probably would have kissed her, too. Jak doesn't —"
Whatever she'd been about to say died in her throat when Torn held up a hand to silence her.
"Just stop," he muttered without inflection, the breath whooshing out of his lungs in a lengthy sigh. "You can leave out the details, because you know I'd rather not be filled in on them anyway. There's only one thing I want to know, and after I get my answer, we can both go home and pretend this conversation never happened."
"And what would that be?" Ashelin's tone suggested that she already had an idea of what he was going to ask, but it was clear that she was still going to make him do so anyway.
I hope I haven't just thrown myself into the jaws of the Metal Head.
Steeling his resolve, the commander locked his gaze on that of the she-elf opposite him, swirling jade to crystal blue. His next words came out through his teeth, a faint tremor of emotion seeping into them despite his best efforts to restrain it.
"Do you have feelings for him?"
The question hung in the silence that followed it like a thick veil of fog, practically smothering the pair beneath its weight. Torn's muscles seemed to freeze in place, fingers digging into his arms as he waited for the response that would either lift the burden from his shoulders, or break him.
It seemed an eternity had passed — during which Torn was seriously debating fleeing the room with as much of his dignity and sanity intact as possible — when Ashelin finally reacted in a manner that even he hadn't anticipated.
A slow, roguish grin spreading itself across her face, she sauntered over to him, hips swaying in that tantalizing way only she could achieve. She draped her arms about his neck when she reached him, fingers tangling themselves in his auburn hair.
Before Torn had the chance to respond, to even register just what the hell she was doing, she pulled his head down and crashed her mouth onto his.
Torn's brain disconnected from his body the second their lips collided. He kissed her back roughly, arms snaking their way around her waist and holding her flush against him. She tugged on his lower lip with her teeth, deepening the kiss, one leg hitching itself easily on his hip. A low, wanting moan rumbled in his throat before he could stop it, and his hands wandered down to her thighs, lifting her up so that she could lock her legs around his waist.
Sweet Precursors, how have I managed to survive the past few weeks without being able to do this? I swear, if Metal Heads and Death Bots won't be the death of me, then she will.
Neither of them was sure how much time had passed when they finally separated, both panting hard. Torn lowered Ashelin carefully to the ground, keeping her within his embrace even after her feet had touched the floor.
"Do you believe me now?" Ashelin laughed breathlessly, fingertips trailing over the back of his neck and sending a cascade of shivers down his spine. "Jak's a decent kid, I'll give him that much, but I need a man. And there's only one man I know that's stubborn enough to put up with a woman like me."
"You'd better be talking about me, or I'll just have another guy's ass to kick later," Torn growled mockingly, resting his forehead on hers and quietly admiring her glittering eyes.
Ashelin aimed a playful punch to his shoulder. "Please, Commander. No one else would ever stand a chance compared to you."
She excluded the three words that they both knew had finished her thought, but that small phrase still hovered in the air between them, invisible and just as significant as if she'd spoken it.
"Glad to hear it," Torn chuckled, his own means of offering her the same soundless message.
You always manage to get your way, don't you, Ash? One of the many reasons I love you, I guess.
"So what do you say we continue this little reunion somewhere more private?" Ashelin's smile was positively predatory now. It took all of Torn's willpower to refrain from squirming under the force of that wicked grin.
"Yes, ma'am," he purred huskily, sweeping her off her feet without giving her the chance to protest and carrying her out of the room.
If anyone asked why either of them showed up late for their duties the next morning, they would merely say they'd been discussing "official government business".
JKA: I am honestly really proud of this, if only because I actually finished it before the deadline I'd set for myself. XD Reviews would be lovely if you've got the time, and happy holidays, everyone!
P.S. Shameless plugging here, but if anyone's on the hunt for a good Jak and Daxter Christmas story, check out Haydos271's oneshot "Haven Christmas". He was kind enough to let me beta it for him, and it's an amazing story. It won't be posted until Christmas Day, but I'd highly recommend it once he's got it up~