Grease Pact

By Snare-chan

Pairings: Implied Torn/Keira
Ratings: T
Category(ies): General
Warning(s): Cussing
Status: One-shot, complete
Summary: Torn and Keira make an agreement.

Notes: Indulging in my not-so-secret couple of choice, though, nine out of ten times, I can't write out-right shippy to save my life. This concept has been nesting in my brain ever since I played Jak X: Combat Racing, but I couldn't get it out until now.

A special thanks to Keppiehed over at Perfect Imagination for beta reading this for me! All remaining mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I dun own Jak and Daxter; wish I did like everyone else. They should put J&D in stock, then I'd buy it all!

Torn was going to duck into the garage to grab something and duck right back out. He didn't even bother to turn on the main overhead lights – his visit was going to be that short – when he heard the noise. It was the sound of someone moving around behind him. This by itself was no reason for alarm. Members of his racing team were always going in and out, tinkering with their vehicles to make them faster, tougher, and deadlier, but he'd entered to the place being empty, and most of his associates were at the bar.

He set aside what he'd come for and instead let his hand hover near one of his pistols, caution dictating that he be prepared for any surprises that might face him when he turned around. The area that had greeted him upon his entrance hadn't changed; no one was visible in his immediate line of sight. Torn was certain that he had picked up on some movement, however, and investigated the direction in which it had originated.

He'd narrowed it down to his race car, his expression darkening as he laid eyes on it. If someone was attempting to sabotage his vehicle, then they were about to find out why he was the Commander of the Haven City Freedom League. Fingers still over his weapon, he angled close to the side of the car without alerting whomever might be lurking there and swiftly reached inside to capture the person on the first go. Pride in a task well-executed turned to surprise when he saw who it was.

"Keira?"

She had the sense of mind to appear abashed as she was caught.

Obviously having expected someone from Mizo's team, Torn felt foolish standing there with one hand itching for his pistol and the other holding the woman by her overalls. Clearing his throat, he let her go.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" she said, too readily. Noting how that came across, she added, "I wasn't fiddling with your race car, I promise. I thought you were…someone else."

Picking up on the catch in her words, Torn frowned and asked, "You're not in any sort of danger, are you? Has Razer been skulking around here again?"

Word had quickly gotten around that the man had made a personal visit, and while he had made it clear that his intentions were against Jak, nobody would put it past Razer, his lackeys or his ringleader to make a hit on someone close to him to achieve their goals. As far as they were concerned, a friend of Jak's was their enemy, and if anyone was helping him, then they, too, were a target. Torn expected and even accepted that challenge, but he bristled at the thought of the non-combatant racers being threatened. In his mind, it was one thing to attack someone on the track, but another entirely when they had little to do with the race.

And while he wasn't sure where the thought had originated from, he was a little disappointed in Jak; he was too absorbed in his own personal battles to keep in mind that there were other ways for the enemy to get under his skin. He couldn't hold onto that train of reasoning, however, as he remembered that his comrade was dealing with a lot, too. Being poisoned and becoming the main target for an entire team of professional assassins on wheels was enough to keep anyone fully occupied. Torn owed him a lot, and if Keira was in trouble, then it wasn't out of the question for him to keep her safe for Jak in his stead.

"Oh, no, nothing like that. Living in Haven City has prepared me for guys like him, so I'm not worried," Keira said. "Kras City isn't really that different from there, if you think about it. Men are the same everywhere, just with a different set of clothes."

Torn snorted, crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against his vehicle, conceding to a part of that. There was little in the way of surprises when it came to this place - the same politics, the same violent attitudes, and the same addiction to racing. Nothing any one of them hadn't borne witness to before. The only difference was the specific individuals involved and the modes of transport, not that he particularly missed zoomers. Finicky vehicles at best, those things.

"Oh! Not that I'm saying you're like those other guys," Keira amended, a moment after her previous statement.

He waved it off, never having taken offense to begin with, and said, "Don't worry about it. I'm still curious why you felt the need to hide in here, though."

Keira became a little flustered then, as she tried to stammer out her explanation.

"It's like I said- I thought you were someone else. I ducked inside the nearest car, just until this place emptied out again."

That didn't clarify things, and Torn was about to state as much when the sounds of footsteps echoed beyond the entrance to the portable garage. He knew immediately, as did Keira, that it was Samos. They were accustomed to the distinct sound his shoes made. She made a dismayed face at the realization, and without warning she grabbed Torn and yanked him through the opening in the car, ducking them down inside near the floor. For all of his soldier training and war experience, he wasn't able to react properly and didn't do more than comply.

Those years of working with mechanical tools and hefting heavy parts had really built Keira's muscles, or so Torn tried to reason, as she was able to hold them close to the bottom of his race car. Confused by her sudden reaction, he tried to demand some answers, but she desperately hushed him.

"Keira, I need to have a word with you!" Samos called, stomping into the garage. When she didn't respond, he agitatedly stamped his cane onto the floor. "KEIRA! Where are you, girl?"

Raising a brow in her direction, the only reply Torn received was a shake of Keira's head and her pleading eyes begging him to keep silent. Though he failed to understand why she was avoiding her father, he knew better than to get in the middle of their business and respectfully kept out of it by remaining motionless and quiet.

"You can't avoid me forever, Keira! I know you're here somewhere!" the man said, his voice receding as he started to walk away. "Oh, that daughter of mine!"

There was shuffling in the other room, and then the front door slid open and closed. There nothing else to be heard. A minute or two passed before Keira dared to lift her eyes a scant couple of inches over the rim of the door, and when she judged the coast to be clear, she sighed deeply and shifted off of him, slumping to one side in an attempt to provide him room. There wasn't much - his vehicle was intended for one person - but they managed to find an equilibrium in which only their legs were tangled.

"Thanks," she said. "I mean, thank you for not giving me up."

"That's fine," Torn started, "but what was that about with the Shadow?"

"You mean Daddy? We're…having a bit of a disagreement, and I'm not in the mood to put up with his arguments anymore. I just don't get him sometimes!"

Unable to resist smirking a bit wryly, he couldn't help seeing a bit of humor in all of this. From his understanding, Keira and Samos tended to get along well for family, but when they found something worth differing on, it was worse than a gunfight between his men and the Metal Heads. They feuded until a compromise was reached, which could take as little as a few hours or up to several weeks.

"I want to race so badly out there with you guys, but he won't let me get closer than the engines, and it was a struggle to get that much leeway," Keira said, giving his dashboard a firm whack with the back of her hand for emphasis. "It's frustrating! Why can't he realize it's okay for me to help more than that? I could take on that other team with a floor model and still win the Kras City Grand Championship."

"Maybe you're not looking hard enough at his point of view," Torn said, trying to remain diplomatic despite how awkward it was for him to be having this conversation. He wasn't the best at inspirational speeches or advice - he was more the type to give orders and have people follow him. There wasn't a lot of emotion involved. Never mind he had a hard time separating the two Shadows; this Samos may be older, but mentally Torn considered him the same mentor, and can't help defend him a little. Even if he acknowledged that he would be reacting the same as Keira if he were in a similar situation.

"I get it, alright? He thinks I'm his pride and joy, but I'm not a kid anymore! Do you know how long I lived alone in Haven City? I made it on my own; I don't need him looking out for me," she said, growing angrier, and before Torn could interject she snapped, "Ashelin can participate, and she's a girl! I think I deserve the same right as she does!"

No way was he touching that last part. He valued the skin on his bones far too much to risk getting in the middle of that cat fight waiting to happen.

"Then why don't you just go ahead and do it?"

She faltered, brows furrowing. It was a long moment before she spoke up in retort.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're an adult, as you've pointed out. An independent woman. You can sign up to race whenever you want, with or without someone's permission. Why not go ahead and get it over with?"

Her eyes bore into his as she gave his words serious consideration. Torn practically heard the gears circling and pistons firing up in her mind as she turned the idea over and over. Then it was like a light bulb turned on, and she smacked herself in the forehead with both hands.

"Oh! That's … I don't know why that never occurred to me! Of course I can do that! I will do that!" she declared, straightening and almost smacking the top of her head on the roof of his car as she scrambled to get up. That is, until halfway through the process (and the both of them a bit more entangled than they were to begin with), she paused as realization dawned on her.

"I'll have to get a car, though, and on short notice. I have some spares back home, but they're hardly complete. There's the matter of parts, then, too…"

That's when Torn's mouth decided to act on its own, for reasons he wasn't sure he ever wanted to figure out.

"How about we cut a deal?"

Eyeing him, Keira asked, "What kind of deal?"

"If you really want to go through with signing up for the race, and our team makes it to the finals - which we'd damn well better - I'll loan you my race car for it. You said you could beat those backstabbing yahoos with a show model. Well, prove it with my suped-up ride."

"R-really? You'd let me borrow yours? That's- Thank you!" she said, earnestly meaning it, and to his bewilderment she hugged him. Both arms around his neck and the whole shebang. Torn wasn't sure how to react in that kind of situation. None of his instincts provided answers, so he sat there and let it run its course.

"You won't be sorry! I'm going to make those other guys regret the day they decided to make trouble for us," Keira said, determined. "I'm going to that registration office right this minute and I'm signing up!"

Letting him go, she crawled out the window. She was barely able to contain herself as she made to carry out her promise. Torn didn't have longer than a few minutes to collapse against the interior of his vehicle, wondering what could have possibly come over him, before Keira came running back. She peeked her head in through his window and looked down at him.

"Um, by the way, what did you want in return for completing the deal?"

Not having considered it, he shrugged, and said, "Right now? That cure would be awfully nice. Let's start by getting that and worry about the details later."

"Fair enough," she agreed, and headed off for real this time. While he waited, Torn had some work to do to prepare for the upcoming race. If they didn't win these cups, there wouldn't be much point in Keira's efforts, and he wouldn't waste that.

-Fin-