A/N: I decided to explore the Jak/Taryn pairing a little more. Hope you peeps enjoy where this is going. :)

~ One ~

Perplexity, resentment and rejection – it was impossible to merge all three emotions and display it on a face in one look, but, somehow, Taryn managed to do just that. Green eyes narrowed at the taunting nature of the padlock on her door; against the knowledge that she hadn't the strength to pull it free, her gloved hand futilely tugged. It was her friend's place, really, but, since they had shed the mortal coil, she couldn't afford the rent to stay – hence the oversized padlock. She let go of it and turned away to observe the cloudy, afternoon sky.

So far, today had not been particularly good, nor astonishingly bad, but the blue-haired teen was in the mood for a strong drink. To The Naughty Ottsel it is, she thought grimly. As she traversed the cleaned up, rebuilt Slums, her heavy-duty boots lazily scuffed against the ground, her mind almost willing rain to fall; then, at least, she could get a little sympathy for being soaking wet.

Pushing such depression from her psyche, she wondered who would be at the tavern tonight and if there even was a drink strong enough to cheer her up. It was a possibility that Daxter would let her sojourn in the place. Then she could spend the entirety of tomorrow "house-hunting". Where a place could be found was anyone's guess, but that wasn't important right now.

The Naughty Ottsel was not packed with people – a weekday, bad weather and off-peak time were the culprits. Still, Taryn supposed it was for the best; she would hardly make good company tonight. If she could just sit, drink and listen to the patrons' banter, everything would be peachy. At the bar, Orange Lightning himself poured drinks. With a silent nod, he had her favourite beverage instantaneously before her stool. There, she parked her behind and attempted to relax.

"Tarry!" came a cheer from her side. Puffing on his cigar and taking a seat two down from her, Jinx appeared perfectly at ease. With an inward sigh, the teen gave a half-hearted greeting. She hated that nickname. Sense had told her to kill him the first time he used it, but his ghost would have probably haunted her instead.

The pyromaniac was already talking Taryn's ear off, so she occasionally nodded at his remarks or shook her head. Eventually, however, those reactions weren't satisfying enough, and he tilted his head to the side, studying her disposition.

"You're helluva quiet today," he remarked; she couldn't tell if he was genuinely worried about her wellbeing or merely making conversation. Then again, did it really matter? The subject was going to come up, sooner or later.

With a deep breath, her confession emerged. "I'm homeless."

A question was hidden within that remark – can anyone put me up? – and the intuitive blonde immediately picked up on it. "You got no place to go, right?"

There was a nod and pleading optics.

"I can't put you up."

"You can. You just need to empty your attic of girls."

He mock-sighed at her suggestion. "That's a lot to ask, Tarry."

"Ugh, please don't call me that," she grumbled. "Makes me sound like a man."

"Well, ya do kinda act like one, sometimes." That earnt him a menacing scowl that threatened a beating, but he refused to back down that easily.

The blue-haired adolescent paused for a minute, then decided to push for an answer. "So?"

"'So?' what?" Jinx teased. Her beseeching expression had him sighing in exasperation. "Seriously-"

"When are you ever serious?"

"Seriously, I just can't. The place ain't mine, and, even if it was, there's no room, alright?"

"Okay. Fine." Taryn's tenor contradicted her reply. "Do you know anyone else?"

"Why don't ya ask yer good friend, Ashelin?" the blonde teased. "She could prob'ly find someplace temporary, at least."

She frowned. "No thanks."

"Still got a problem with authority, huh?"

"Maybe a little."

"Ya know she ain't KG anymore. All that old crap's outta this city."

"I'm still getting used to it."

"So, you will talk to her?"

"No."

"Well, I'm outta ideas." He sipped from his glass. The teen's brow furrowed, as she struggled to conjure any other sensible ideas for temporary lodgings.

Daxter, who had previously filled himself with drink (thankfully keeping him mute), finally piped up. "Why're you homeless, anyway?"

"My roommate…left," she said carefully. "I stayed, free of charge. Since they're gone, I can't afford the rent."

The Ottsel nudged her arm and raised an eyebrow. "I got just the place for ya."

"Where?"

"A spare room that's never used."

The blue-haired beauty felt a mixture of relief…and apprehension; it sounded too good to be true. "Alright, what's the catch?"

"Well, Jak uses my pad as a harem lounge; if you don't mind that, it's fine."

She buried her face in both arms. It had been expected that his answer to her problems would miraculously have nothing to do with homelessness, but she really didn't want to associate Jak with the word 'harem'.

The pyromaniac wore a grin on his face and, with a puff of his cigar, asked, "The place got any other definin' features?"

Taryn thumped him this time, perhaps harder than necessary, but she was still mortified by the entire conversation. He let out a cry of pain, which she ignored. Turning to Daxter, her face was quizzical. "Please tell me that Jak thing isn't true…"

"Ooh, jealous, are ya?" the pint-sized, orange hoodlum grinned. Elbowing her, he added, "Betcha wish you were part of that entourage."

With a roll of the eyes, unable to keep her cheeks darkening a little, the adolescent decided to concentrate on finishing her drink. "You've got one more screw loose than I thought."

"Who hasn't in this dump?"

"True."

There was silence again.

"So, Taryn, what's the verdict?" Orange Lightning enquired.

"Hmm?" said female murmured, dodging the question.

"Stay at my place for the night, eh?"

"Oh, I don't know…"

"Just say yes, Tarry," Jinx sighed. At her reluctance, he added, "Look, ya got no place else."

Staring at her beverage, getting lost in the pool of golden liquor, she allowed herself a minute to consider the offer of lodgings. The answer was simple, but something kept refusing to give way. Her emerald optics darted between the males, and her shoulders slumped. "Alright, Fuzzball. I'll stay with you, but only tonight." Her stomach grumbling, she rose from her seat. "I'll get some eats and my things, then meet you back here."

"Sure thing," the Ottsel grinned, watching her walk away.

Daxter's home was tucked somewhere between the Port and rebuilt Gardens, which was perfect for him to move quickly between his bar and into Haven Forest with Jak. The Ottsel had trotted alongside Taryn, pointing out the shortest route to get from place to place, and she was grateful that he took the time…although slightly irritated about him acting as if she was staying for more than one night.

The house itself was relatively small, although larger than the teen was used to; the places she stayed had always been half the size, at best. The narrow, long hallway led into a connected kitchen-lounge – there were dishes, cutlery and even tools scattered all over the place, along with paraphernalia dotted about the walls, which consisted of a calendar, a couple of posters and a clock that looked like it came from the Old World.

"Oh, you just moved in?" she teased, pointing at the mess.

He gave his best, mock-affronted pose. "If yer gonna be rude, I'm not lettin' you stay."

She stuck her tongue out, then grinned and followed him up the narrow flight of stairs, towards the bedrooms. The guest room was the last on the right, and, as the pair entered, her eyes lit up in surprise.

As with the rest of the abode, it wasn't as small as expected and, besides the thin layer of dust, was clean and tidy. It consisted of a single bed against one wall, opposite a wooden chest of drawers and standing mirror; this was to the right of a large window, which offered a generous view of the world outside.

It was more than enough. Apart from sleeping, Taryn didn't really do much time at home. She was a nomad at heart and often on little odd jobs around Haven.

She had just one bag of precious possessions and was practically settled in already. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she let out a deep breath to calm herself. Concerned about her wellbeing, Daxter hopped onto the end of the bed and gently patted her knee in reassurance. Grateful, she returned a soft smile.

He beamed and hopped off, trotting out of the room. "I gotta run, so I'll leave ya to it. Sleep well!" The door shut behind him.

Taryn looked around the room again. An unexpected yawn escaped and she opted to go straight to sleep. She settled on the surprisingly comfortable mattress and cuddled under the blanket, then turned off the light and closed her eyes.

By the time Jak returned home, it was the middle of the night. He lazily stumbled through the hallway and into the kitchen-lounge, flicking on the light. Tossing his jacket over a chair, hooking off his goggles and propping the Morph Gun against a solid surface, he decided on a drink, before heading up the stairs and towards his bedroom.

Just as he sipped from a glass, there was a sudden noise from the floor above. Cerulean eyes narrowed. He put down the drink and retrieved his weapon, then stealthily slinked upstairs. Whatever it was, footsteps were coming from the bathroom…and heading his way. Pausing outside the room and holding the gun in his arms, he awaited the stranger's appearance.

The door opened and out stepped Taryn. She visibly jumped, optics wide and breath hitching. With a relieved sigh, Jak lowered the Morph Gun and ran a hand through his collar-length hair. Dressed in tight, charcoal pedal-pushers and a red t-shirt – which was the closest thing she had to pyjamas – her drained face, slumped body and rumpled hair showed signs of fatigue. Glad to no longer be in the sights of a Blaster, she coyly waved, unsure about his response to her presence.

Perhaps it'd be wise to say what I'm doing here, she considered. "I…um…I…" she stammered, which wasn't a fantastic start. Clearing her throat and regaining some confidence, she began again. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm staying the night."

To her surprise, he seemed puzzled, as if hearing that for the first time. It then occurred to her that was the case.

"Daxter didn't tell you, did he?" she huffed. With a shake of the head, Jak let out a groan and shrugged. Typical Fuzzball.

"It doesn't matter, 'though."

"I didn't realise. Look, if it's putting you out…"

"It's not," he said. "Stay."

She blushed and looked at her feet. "Thanks," was the quiet reply.

Sweeping a hand through his blonde-green locks again, he decided the atmosphere was in need of cheering up. And there was a glass waiting downstairs with his name on it. His face broke into a charming smile. "Thirsty?"

Taryn nodded. It had been a long day, and it would be nice to be in the presence of a normal man, for a change. I can't sleep, anyway.