A/N: Shalom and welcome, dear friends. Shout out to Bandit-sama, BlueIrish, Nostalgic Beauty, and Aries28.As always, much love to my beta – Aries28, you rock my socks! The little purple button at the very bottom of the page really does work, so you should press it and leave me a nice little review. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Anyway, I'll shut up and let you read now.

"You left without permission!" Shouted Sig angrily, his voice shaking the bar at its very foundation.

Zaacha crossed her arms, lounging against the holoscreen. "I went out into the desert without permission and saved one of your most promising Wastelanders." She pointed out coolly.

Sig ground his teeth together, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side. "That's not the point."

"It is the point. You treat me like I'm ten years old and I'm running with scissors. If you'd just let me –"

"Don't start with me, Zaacha." He warned, eye still trained on the reclined girl. "You aren't a Wastelander. Desert racing and running off to Haven City are not going to make you one."

The girl crossed her arms across her chest. "Well, what are you going to do, send me back to Spargus?"

"I have half a mind to put you on that transport right now."

Jak looked up from the counter, where he and the rest of the present company had been trying to ignore the argument since Sig's first appearance. "Transportation's down right now, Sig. Too many attacks on the port. They figured it was safer to shut down for a few days."

Zaacha smiled. "Now you can't send me home. I'm stuck here, so you might as well just -"

"You're going to stay in this bar." He instructed, turning to walk back out the door.

Zaacha fell forward in surprise. "What? You can't be serious."

Sig didn't bother to turn. "That's an order, Zaacha. You're staying in the bar until we're done here."

"What do you expect me to do, just wait around and do nothing?" She yelled at him as he continued walking.

"Make yourself useful; help Keira with some projects or something." He called over his shoulder before walking out the door to the Wasteland troop that was undoubtedly waiting outside.

"This is so unfair." She muttered, storming over to the bar, plopping down on one of the vinyl-covered stools. "He knows I can handle myself; he trained me. So why won't he let me out there?" She asked no one in particular, resting her chin on the glossy waxed countertop.

"He's worried about you, that's all." Jak said, slipping a muscular arm around her shoulders.

She sighed and pouted, her bottom lip jutting forward slightly. "Why doesn't he trust me?"

"You have to earn trust by following simple orders first. Plunging head first into battle unwittingly is no way to gain his appreciation." Torn muttered around the wide mouth of another Ottsel King.

Zaacha looked up, lifting an eyebrow. "I did not plunge head first 'unwittingly'. I knew exactly what I was doing. I just didn't tell anyone until I was already doing it."

"Oh yeah. You knew exactly what you were doing. Taking off for a fight that you had no idea about, in a city you didn't know, with people you've never met. That sounds like a great plan to me."

She smiled mockingly. "Well, I'm glad we agree."

Torn groaned and took another swig of his drink as Jak chuckled and removed his arm from around Zaacha's shoulders, ruffling her hair playfully.

The door slid open again, allowing a new face to enter the bar. Zaacha turned her head, wiping an indigo curl from her face. A girl in a light lilac top quietly walked behind Jack, covering his eyes with her hands. "Guess who."

Jack grinned, wrapping his fingers around her wrists as he pulled her hands away from his dark azure eyes. "Hey Kiera. What's up?"

She smiled and leaned down, kissing his cheek. "Nothing. Daddy finally agreed not to go out to Haven Forest yet, so I thought I'd come down and say hi." Her eyes finally met Zaacha's, pulling her away from Jak for a moment. "Oh, hi. I'm Keira." She said with a bright smile, slipping a hand out of Jak's grip and offered it to Zaacha.

The blue-haired Spargan grinned and took Keira's hand, shaking it friendly. "Zaacha. Nice to meet you."

Jak leaned his head back, resting it against Keira's bare stomach. "She's the one who's been making me all that money lately."

Keira's turquoise eyes lit up. "Really? What kind of engine is in your desert buggies? What does is run on? What's it like to drive with actual wheels and not a hover system? Do you find the sand drags at the speed, or do you use a special tread to keep the sand from affecting your acceleration? Oh, speaking of acceleration –"

Jak laughed and butted the girl's stomach gently, catching her attention. "Easy, Keira. You're going to fry her brain if you ask her anything else."

Sure enough, Zaacha felt like she was about to fall off her seat if Keira had asked one more question.

"Ah, Keira. Glad you could make it." Daxter's squeaky voice rang out from behind the bar. The ginger ottsel leapt out from the void that was behind the counter, grinning at the mechanic standing behind Jak. "Listen, I got a project I was hoping you could help me out with. There's a zoomer parked out back that I was hoping you could get up and running for me." He started, pointing to the back door over his shoulder.

Jak frowned. "Come on, Dax, she just got here."

"No, it's ok. I'll go take a look. What kind off zoomer is it?" She asked as she made her way around to the other side of the bar.

Daxter jumped down from the counter top, scampering over to Keira's feet. "It's a cruiser (1). I found a gun mod that I want attached to the handlebars if you got the time; kind of like the ones on the old Krimson Guard zoomers. I have it stored in the backroom right now."

"You just can't make my job easy, can you?" Keira asked playfully, tapping Daxter with the toe of her boot.

"Need some help?"

Keira smiled and nodded to Zaacha. "Sure. Come on."

With a bright smile, Zaacha raced to the other side of the bar, following Keira and Daxter out the back door to the afore mentioned zoomer.

Torn glanced over at Jak, taking another sip of his drink. "So, how long have you and Keira been going out?"

Jak rubbed his chin, running his fingers over his growing goatee. "Around a year, now." He admitted, sounding surprised himself at the time.

Torn lifted his bushy eyebrows, nodding. "Long time."

Jak nodded slowly. "Yeah, sure is." There was a lull in the already pressed conversation before Jak looked over suspiciously. "You're not thinking of trying to take her, are you?" He asked angrily, his eyes darkening furiously.

Torn shook his head feverishly. "No no no no no, not that. Just curious, man." He said hurriedly.

Jak eyed him warily before going back to the mug in front of him, taking a sip of the mystery liquid. The hero frowned as he smelled the unique aroma emanating from the metallic mug. "I don't even think Daxter knows what he put in this." He muttered under his breath before turning his attention back to the pressed conversation. "What about you and Ashelin? Anything going on there?"

Torn gulped down the rest of his bottle. "There's nothing going on, not that it's any of your business." He said coldly.

Jak shrugged. "Sorry." He said, though he didn't sound very sincere.

Torn glanced over at the hero, grabbing at topics to keep the uneasy silence at bay. "Was it wise to leave two mechanics alone outside with a zoomer?"

Jak chuckled, his light mood returning. "It's fine, Daxter will keep an eye on-"

The loud roar of an engine interrupted the dull conversation again, complete with a few muffled shouts. The back door slammed open as Keira and Daxter dashed inside. "Jak, does Sig have his communicator on?" Keira asked hurriedly.

Jak blinked. "He should, why?" He asked worriedly. "Is Zaacha ok?"

Daxter chuckled nervously. "She's fine, for now. But once Sig hears that she took off on that zoomer outside and was headed towards the Metalhead KG Bot sector, I doubt that'll last long."

Jak cursed and whipped out his communicator, pounding in Sig's code number. Torn groaned and let his head fall onto the countertop. That kid was more trouble than she was worth.

1 :: Zoomers that look a little like modern-day motorcycles.