Standard Disclaimer: I don't own Jak and Daxter. I'm just enjoying a bit of fandom-based tomfoolery. (Now isn't that an interesting word? Tomfoolery ...)

o~O~o

Daxter couldn't take it anymore.

Gulping greedily at the salty air he paused halfway up the slight incline to catch his breath, doubling over and bracing his hands against his knees. A shudder crawled his length when his fingers, instead of meeting skin, mingled with thick fur that bristled and swayed like the blades of emerald grass about him; yesterday only ankle-high, yet now almost tickling the tops of his hips. With every heavy inhalation, his nose – unaccustomed to its newfound strength - stumbled over the myriad of scents swirling about him, bickering ferociously all the while with his ears, which – lying flat against his head now, when before they'd been bolt upright – insisted resolutely on processing every tiny, insignificant sound; whether it be the roar of the not-too-distant ocean or the pitter-patter of a ladybug languidly strolling across the underside of a leaf. The strong glow of the sun pressed strongly against his back, making him uncomfortably hot beneath his fur, while his tail acted like a lead weight behind him; checking every step he took like a dumbbell attached to a chain.

Precursors, would it always be like this? Would he ever get used to it … this feeling of total and utter wrongness?

The ottsel sank to the ground with an exhausted huff, flexing his newly-furred toes as he glared irritably at the back of Jak's retreating head, some ten feet up ahead. The oaf hadn't even realised the ottsel had stopped; still unused to the fact, perhaps, that his best friend had been cursed with stumpy legs that just couldn't keep up with his own freakishly long ones. All morning they'd been trekking over Geyser Rock, collecting globules of green and blue eco as per Samos' instruction, and Daxter was just about sick of it. Though in times gone by the excursion might have interested him – excited him, even – today it loomed over him like an unassailable mountain; every drop of eco reminding him of the tar-like, stinging substance that had reduced him the previous night to a two-foot tall, helpless rat that was now dependent on a stupidly curious best friend who didn't know the meaning of not sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Misty Island, Lurker gatherings, and around pools of Dark Eco, to name a few.

Daxter huffed again, louder this time, and succeeded in catching Jak's attention. The blonde stopped and glanced curiously over his shoulder, eyes narrowing in confusion when he spied Daxter – head barely visible over the long grass – slumped by a small rock, his arms folded and face set in a fierce scowl. Jogging back to where the ottsel was sitting prostrate, Jak crouched down in front of him and lifted his eyebrows in silent question. Daxter snorted and rolled his eyes.

"What's wrong? Oh, nothing. Everything's absolutely peachy, ain't it Jak?"

Jak's eyebrows ducked into a frown. He inclined his head, to which Daxter answered bitterly, "Ain't it obvious? I'm sick of it!"

As it slowly dawned on him, Jak sighed and folded his own arms across his chest, waiting for Daxter to launch into an inevitable rant. He wasn't disappointed.

"I'm only little now, Jak!" the ottsel continued, pushing himself to his feet with a wince. "I mean, look at me! I'm barely clearin' the grass! And yet you …" – here he poked Jak squarely on the knee – "… don't even have the common grace ta slow down for me, do ya? We've been hikin' over rocks an' hills an' Precursors-know-what-else all day, an' we've still got 'bout half the island to clear before we even get back to the warp gate! An' ya know what? I can't take it anymore, Jak, I can't!"

Grimacing, the older boy rubbed the back of his neck. He should have seen this coming. While the terrain had posed no problem for him, Daxter had been consistently lagging behind all morning, dragging his feet and sitting down at every available opportunity. Jak glanced up at the sun, noting that it was descending towards the western horizon, and then at the jagged path up ahead. There was still so far to go …

With a soft sigh, Jak twisted so his left shoulder was on offer to the ottsel and jerked his head once in its direction. Come on. Climb up.

"On there?" Daxter said flatly, eyeing it with distaste. Jak shrugged.

It's that or walk.

Daxter grimaced, knowing damn well his friend meant it. With an irritable grumble he pulled himself up onto Jak's knee, then – when the teen remained absolutely still – scrambled up on the shoulder pad thence, testing it for stability. When he nodded, Jak straightened slowly and carefully, testing the unaccustomed weight out a little for himself. For some reason, it didn't bother him that much … if anything, it felt like a part of him he hadn't even known was missing had become whole. Huh. Weird.

"Shall we?" the ottsel said sourly, gesturing the horizon with a careless wave of his hand. Jak nodded and set off at a brisk walk, trying to ignore the sensation of guilt that had been gnawing at the depths of his gut since the previous evening. The extra load that was Daxter pressed the shoulder pad down a little uncomfortably against his bare skin, but Jak found that he didn't mind. If the fact that his best friend was now an ottsel was his fault, then he was determined to make amends for it in whatever way he possibly could.

Besides, he reasoned drily with himself, as he skirted a large boulder plonked resolutely in their path, it's not like this going to be a permanent arrangement or anything …

o~O~o

A/N:

Oh, if only they'd have known …

Hi, everyone! This is my first story for this fandom, so I'm hoping like crazy it came out alright. I've always wondered how Jak and Daxter came to the arrangement they did about Daxter's seating – or perhaps perching – plan, so this is my new theory. Dax got tired of walking, Jak offered, and it just stayed that way. For the sake of this, I'm going to pretend that Daxter spent the first half of the Geyser Rock level in the first game on foot, and then hopped onto Jak's shoulder when his feet couldn't take it anymore. I know he goes straight onto Jak's shoulder pad in the game, but I think I prefer it this way. Creative license, y'all.

Reviews, as always, are welcome. I haven't written for the Jak and Daxter fandom before, so I'd appreciate any constructive criticism on character portrayal if you think I didn't quite hit the nail on the head. I'm here to learn and grow as a writer, and would greatly appreciate your help.