Okay, another chapter...and cookies for all who reviewed...
Suta hands out cookies to reviewers
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Jak came to a sliding stop just around the corner from headquarters and hopped off his jetboard. Daxter yawned as though awaking from a long nap and sleepily asked where they were.
"Just outside headquarters, I don't think we should show Torn the creature just yet," Jak answered the drowsy ottsel. The creature raised its head from the crook of Jak's arm and sighed, smoke trailing from its nostrils.
Jak was in the process of hiding the creature under his shirt despite its indignant squeaks and smug looks from Daxter, when it occurred to him that he didn't know whether it was male or female. He flipped it onto its back gently…yep, it was a male…before stuffing it under his tough-materialed shirt.
Jak strode in through the door to headquarters, holding his morph gun across his chest casually.
"He-hey webface! We have returned…and not a single metalhead left behind!" Daxter called out, making it sound as though he and Jak had done exactly what they were supposed to, instead of collecting strange animals.
Torn turned around just in time to groan as Daxter slid down Jak's arm and hopped onto his desk, spewing papers everywhere.
"So I guess it went well," Torn met Jak's gaze," I don't have anything else that needs doing 'til the morning, so you can go ahead and crash for the night if you want."
He's going easy on me after what happened…fine by me…I need a shower and I'd better find this thing something to eat, Jak felt the creature squirm slightly and he bit his tongue in order to keep himself from laughing as the creature poked its snout into his sensitive ribcage.
"Okay, I think I'll do just that," Jak answered as he gave Torn a brief nod of the head and walked through a door to the back rooms; Daxter following and allowing Torn to clean up the mess he had made.
Once the door was safely shut, Jak allowed the creature to crawl up his chest and poke its head out the collar under his chin. It sniffed the air interestedly.
"Do ya have to keep it?" Daxter asked as he eyed the creature.
"Daxter! It's a baby. I can't just leave it out there to die…and besides, it…well, it spoke to me," Jak answered, pulling the small animal out of his shirt and setting it down on the nearest bed carefully.
"I didn't hear it talk! When did this happen? And besides, I talk to you every day," Daxter said, throwing himself down onto a bed and placing his hands behind his head and crossing his ankles.
"No…no, that's not what I meant. It…he, spoke to me through his thoughts," Jak sat on the bed next to the creature and watched as he crawled around on the bed awkwardly, occasionally sneezing when a puff of dust would arise in front of his face.
"What?" Daxter sat up, genuinely interested this time, "so you heard this message or whatever inside your head?"
"Yeah, and I concentrated on an answer back and it must've received it because it gave me this sort of satisfied answer and fell back asleep," Jak reached out a hand and slowly began stroking the creature's triangular shaped head, "only we didn't exactly have a conversation, it just sort of sighed out my name over and over."
Daxter watched Jak stroke the small creature, his face muscles stretched taught in a plain look of jealousy. Jak glanced up at Daxter and held back an open laugh.
"Daxter!" Jak bit his lip against a torrent of mirth, "this strange creature isn't going to cause me to abandon you like an old toy," Daxter blinked," you're my lifelong friend and nothing's gonna change that."
Daxter sighed and leapt from his bed and into Jak's lap, "Alright, alright, buddy, I'll cut ya some slack, though it would be nice to like, ya know, see you smile every now and then. And I haven't heard much laughter since you got out of that damned prison either."
"Okay, okay," Jak gave real laugh that time.
"Hmmm, well I suppose its gotta have a name, right pal?" Daxter looked up at Jak.
Jak watched the creature for a few moments as he spread his wings and glided gracefully onto the floor, where he continued his expedition around the room.
After discarding several names, Jak finally spoke," How 'bout Smoake?"
"Smoake," Daxter appeared to savor the word," I like it!"
•Jak?• came the creature's soft tones.
•Erm, yes?• Jak replied tentatively, it felt so weird to be doing this.
•Jaaak…• a rumbly and content answer.
"It spoke to me again Daxter," Jak told his fuzzy firend.
"Yeah? What'd it say?"
"It just repeated my name over and over again…same as last time."
The creature suddenly stopped and stared up at Daxter in Jak's lap.
•Daxter• came an almost whiplike statement inside Jak's mind again.
•Yes, that's Daxter• Jak told it calmly.
•Daxter…Daaxteer• it said in a tone that suggested that it was trying to decide whether or not the orange ottsel was a predator.
•Daxter's okay…Daxter, erm, good• Jak reassured it.
With a flick of his tail, Smoake resumed exploring, while Jak relayed the "conversation" to Daxter.
"See? It's just frightened of you Dax," Jak smiled," after all, you are pretty intimidating."
"Uh huh," Daxter sniffed Jak and pretended to fall off his lap, staggering around on the floor as though intoxicated from the stench," Oy, buddy, you smell like you've been rollin' around in Yackow puck…go take a shower."
With a good-hearted snort, Jak stood up, stretched and headed down a hall to the showers, leaving Daxter to contemplate whatever his perverted mind liked to contemplate. He stopped short, however, when he heard the sound of small claws clicking on the tile floor behind him. Smoake clicked his way in between Jak's legs and stopped a few feet ahead of him, then twisted his neck around to stare at Jak as if to ask why he had stopped.
With a short-lived laugh, Jak picked up Smoake and strode into the shower area. It was just a bunch of shower heads, spaced every few yards or so, and divided with planks of metal to form stalls, but to Jak it was relief from the day's sweat and grime.
Setting Smoake down to let him explore some more, Jak stripped himself down to his boxers, piled his mech suit and armor on a corner bench, and turned the hot water on.
The second the water streamed down to plink and splash on the floor, Smoake ran into it, snapping at the droplets and rolling around in the puddles that formed on the floor. Jak's eyes gleamed as he watched the creature's innocent playing. He removed his last garment, threw it in the corner, and stepped into the stream, the water cascading down his sore muscles and soothing them.
Smoake entwined himself with Jak's ankles, lay down, and began humming contentedly again, not even minding when the soap and shampoo fell in plops on his shiny white scales.
A few minutes later, Jak entered the bunk room, fully dressed, and set a wet Smoake down on the floor. Jak glanced out a tiny window next to the bed he usually slept in and saw that it was already dark; but dark storm clouds brewed, toiled and massed closer with every passing second in the not too far off horizon. Daxter had already hit the sack, completely oblivious to the storm.
•Hungry•
Catching Smoake in mid-jump to prevent him from getting the beds wet, Jak rubbed him with a towel.
•Okay, stay here• Jak dropped the towel, disappeared outside the door and followed another hall down to the empty kitchen. He grabbed some bits of smoked meat and found a water bottle before returning to the bedroom.
Upon re-entry, Smoake jumped up onto Jak's chest and clung there with his claws, snuffling the pockets that concealed the food.
Jak disentangled Smoake's claws from the front of his shirt, pausing for a second to marvel at the shiny black texture they had, and set him down on the bed next to Daxter. He tossed a bit of meat to Smoake and watched as he caught it with a quick snap of a fang-laden jaw. Jak continued to toss the meat, each time increasing the difficulty, throwing it up high, where Smoake had to leap with a swift flap of the wing to catch the morsel, and throwing it fast, which required a dash to the right or left.
With a contented sigh, Smoake announced that he was done after he had snatched the water bottle from Jak and drank all of the contents.
Jak gave Smoake a gentle pat on the head before climbing into bed next to Daxter, who awoke and drowsily climbed onto Jak's chest. Daxter fell back into a deep sleep even before he had flopped back down on Jak, muttering incoherently. Smoake leapt gracefully onto the bed, gave Daxter a cautious sniff, and curled up on Jak's legs.
Jak slipped into dreamland with the assistance of Smoake's soothing humming.
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"JAAAAK!" it was unmistakably the roar of a very angry Torn.
Jak was jolted awake and he rolled to the side in a jerking motion, involuntarily falling out of bed.
"Jak! You've got a bit of explaining to do!" Torn came stomping into Jak's bunkroom, holding up a squirming Smoake by the tail.
A violent flash of lightning lit up Torn's red face, his eyes ablaze with anger and a hint of betrayal.
"I found him yesterday in Haven Forest," Jak spit out the truth, knowing it wouldn't do any good to lie, especially not to someone who had a dagger at his hip.
Torn grabbed the collar of Jak's shirt and hauled him to his feet, holding Jak's face at eye-level; Jak's toes just barely reached the floor. Jak swallowed as his face gave away whatever fear he had been trying to conceal; despite the strong urge to fight back, Jak knew he couldn't win against a seasoned fighter. Just as Jak started to lose oxygen, Smoake defensively spat out a sharp burst of black and white flame, causing Torn to yelp and drop both him and Jak.
Holding his right arm, Torn set his foot on Jak's chest, pinning him down against the floor.
"I…don't…give a damn what you…do with it, just keep it away from me," Torn hissed before kicking Jak in the face, causing his head to connect painfully with the hard, metal floor with a sickening noise, and stalking away.
Daxter leapt down from the bed and wiped some blood away from Jak's mouth with a worried expression plastered on his face.
"You okay buddy? I'm surprised he didn't kill you on the spot"
"I know, I suppose I got off easy," Jak sat up and spat a mouthful of blood out onto the floor; he had bit his tongue when Torn had kicked his chin. He wiped some blood away from his mouth and watched the red liquid drip down his hand for a moment.
Smoake hissed and curled his body around Daxter's feet, who glanced down at him with a surprised expression.
•Jak?•
•It's okay, it's just a bit of blood•
•Blood?• Jak held out the hand that he had used to wipe the blood off his mouth and Smoake stretched out his graceful neck to sniff it curiously.
•Jak blood?•
•Yes, my blood• Jak heaved a sigh and got up from the floor, rubbing his temples.
"We'd better grab whatever sleep we can while it's still dark," Jak fell back onto a bed and waited as both Smoake and Daxter crawled in next to him.
Jak lay awake for another good half hour, after the other two had fallen asleep, thinking about what he would do in the morning. Worry and anticipation grabbed at him until he felt his brain being pushed in from all sides, causing the uncomfortable impression that someone was pressing on his skull with increasing pressure.
With a shivering sigh, he mentally let go of these degrading thoughts and allowed himself to fall into a fitful sleep, his dreams full of Smoake yelling at Torn for bringing a stray metalhead home and Daxter hanging up posters that read 'Lost Creature'.