More of the story, as the muse suddenly had an idea and I needed to get it down before the writer's block took over.
Reader replies:
Black Rosettes - Yes, fluffy. This one's got a little fluff, not quite as much.
Midnight Critic - You'll find out if you're right very soon. D
WHOCARES? - Not quite my first, but the first in a while. And you'll have to wait to know who she is. XP
LoonyLombax - I always thought the GP was funny pestering Ratchet about his daughter. You gotta love the overprotective daddy in him. :3
Scath - Thanks
It was warm, sitting on the branch in the morning sun, and they stayed there some time, enjoying each other's company, talking and laughing. It was nice to take a break from their worries for a few hours.
"Hey, why'd you drag me out here anyway?" Ratchet asked. Though it was nice to have time for just the two of them, without having to worry about listening for opening doors and obnoxious footsteps, it did strike him as strange that she'd go to the trouble of making the time.
"Dad's called a meeting this afternoon. I figured if we started planning to take back the Phoenix, we wouldn't get much of a chance to do something like this, you know? Besides, this is probably one of my favorite places on the planet," she said, smiling and leaning against his furry shoulder as if she was considering falling asleep there. "I came out here every once in a while when I got stuck staying here. It gets a little boring, sitting in that compound all day."
Ratchet nodded. He'd been bored before. Veldin had once meant "large ball of boring red mud" to him. He understood what it was like to be completely and utterly bored by your surroundings.
"We should probably head back though," she said, looking at the sky. "It's probably almost ten now, just guessing though." She held up her wrists to show the didn't have a watch.
"So, what...we climb down?"
"Yeah," she said, nudging him towards the trunk. Ratchet smirked, obviously resistant to the idea of shimmying down a tree backwards. Instead he picked her up almost effortlessly - she scarcely weighed more than one of his many weapons - and slid off the branch. She shrieked and tucked herself up into a ball; he could feel her fingers digging into his shoulder and was thankfull her claws were not as sharp as her teeth. He landed lightly, his legs and feet absorbing the shock of the fall. "Why you..."
"What?" he asked innocently.
Sasha laughed; it was impossible to fake anger at him, especially as it was quite comfortable being held as she was. In fact, were her sense of duty not reminding her that they needed to be back - that she was not sure of the time and thus should allow leeway to make certain she was not late - she would have been content to allow him to hold her until his arms gave out. "So, what...are you gonna let me down?"
"No," Ratchet said, smirking again. She squirmed slightly in protest, but didn't really try. He knew she could be quite slippery when she was feeling antisocial. The movement was more playful, as if she didn't truely want to get away.
"You're a mess. A very large mess." He nodded and grinned as if he were proud of himself, but quietly set her on her feet. "At least you didn't drop me. And I may have to drag you back out here, just so we can jump out of that tree again." She joined him in grinning, though her usual reserve kept the expression much smaller. "Come on, we should be heading back."
They walked back to the hovercar more slowly than they had come, enjoying each other's company more than the surrounding forest. While Ratchet may not have liked having his old "shortest person present" status back, Sasha was not an entirely unpleasant person to be shorter than. Her shoulder was just below his chin, a perfect height for him to rest it on - though it was awfully difficult to walk like that.
Their ride over the water, too, was slow and uneventfull. Ratchet, deciding to take advantage of Sasha's driving, leaned heavily against her shoulder and attempted to return to the sleep she'd dragged him out of. He wasn't especially tired now - once he was out of bed, he could normally stay awake easily; it was getting him up that was the problem - but it made a nice excuse for him to lean on her. He wasn't normally sure of himself around females, but having an excuse, even one as weak as sleepiness, helped quite a bit.
Sasha shifted her shoulders slightly so that she could look at Ratchet. "You're impossible to drive with, you know that?" He looked up at her appologetically, his ears dropped. She leaned her head against his, smirking, and lowered her voice so it was just auditable over the hum of the engine. "Then again, impossible always was more fun." She laughed lightly. Ratchet smiled, his ears perked up again. A fine spray had been shooting up from the water they were skimming over and, though the light was from overhead and not a dusky angle, it still made a sparkling mist over her fur. Ratchet thought it pretty.
Her eyes narrowed. He was so close to her; how dare he!? She wanted to see him away, scrunched up against the oposite side of the hovercar, threatening to slide over into the water. Instead, he was cuddling up to her, leaning over quite a ways so he could rest on her shoulder, looking up with a perfectly happy, content expression. She wanted to grab him and yank him away.
Oh, yes, she was jealous. Highly jealous. And, as she brought her hoverboard closer the back of their vehicle, she leveled a small rocket launcher at its exhaust and rear engines. Not an especially powerful one - certainly not powerful enough to cause any sort of explosion - but enough to cripple the craft and render it useless. She took careful aim, minding the pitch of her hoverboard under her feet, and pulled the trigger.
The tiny rocket, barely larger than her finger, slipped from the barrel and began its whistling course towards the back of the hovercar. It was really more of an explosive blowdart than a rocket, so small it was. But, small or no, it packed enough of a punch to knock out the rear engines. The sudden ceasation of the lift and thrust caused the front of the ship to pitch upward, throwing its very surprised occupants backwards into the water. The craft continued to flip, however, and its front engines pushed it over backwards completely. Now upside-down, the engines attempted to force it underwater, only to succeed in shorting themselves out. Without the push of its engines, the craft drifted quietly to the bottom.
Ratchet and Sasha quickly resurfaced, treading water, their civilian clothes bulging around them in sopping bunches. After quickly checking that the other was alright, they each turned around, looking for what had attacked them. Sasha spotted her first. "You!"
She moved her hoverboard closer, the soft hum of the engine suddenly quite loud without that of the hovercar to drown it out. The tall woman stopped a few feet away. "Yes?" she purred.
Ratchet growled and cursed the fact that he did not have a weapon handy. Even worse, he was more or less incapacitated in the water - he could swim just fine, but it was impossible to fight hand-to-hand when your opponent was hovering over you out of reach. Instead, he did the only thing he could and possitioned himself between the two females, almost without realizing it. He had become quite protective.
"Ratchet, Ratchet, Ratchet..." the female continued, shaking her head. "I don't understand it - you come here and waste your time with this...girl." She smirked behind her mask as she saw Sasha's mouth curl into a snarl. Another open nerve had been hit. "You could come with me, just think..."
"I don't think so," he spat, his ears pinned to his head. "And if I had my Tempest..."
"You'd shock us all," she purred, her smirk becoming more noticeable. Her voice lowered slightly, the purring vibrato continuing softly, "Come on, come with me."
"Get out of here before you cause any more problems," Sasha growled, her usual calm barely restraining her from yelling. "It isn't your choice if Ratchet comes with you; it's his." She refrained from adding, he's mine, anyway . Instead she said, "And I think he already gave you his answer."
The rogue shook her head, tossing the loose edges of her hood about like hair. She reached up and smoothed it, then reached inside as if to reset her hair, too. "Ah, but, you see, he has no choice..." She produced a foul-smelling rag from a plastic pouch she had hidden under the hood, grabbed Ratchet from the water, and, in one fluid movement, pressed the rag over his nose.
"HEY! Let me go!" He wriggled hard, trying to escape her grasp. For her size - she didn't appear especially muscular - she was deceptively strong. Or perhaps he was feeling weak. The rag she held over his nose positively reeked ; it was making him nausious. His head was swimming; the feeling of a need to vomit was becoming stronger. He couldn't quite see straight. The world...it was so blurry. He felt like he'd gone nearsighted in less than two minutes.
He quit struggling so hard. It didn't really matter, did it? She had him quite tightly; there was no way he'd escape. He rolled his eyes around and noted Sasha, her eyes wide in horror. She was saying something...something about letting him go. That'd be nice, wouldn't it? Yes, letting him go would be nice. But he didn't think he could stand on his own now; he was so tired. And if he couldn't stand, he'd fall in the water. Didn't she think of that? Yes, of course she did...Sasha always thought of everything...she must have been planning to catch him... Well, it'd be easier to catch him if he was limp, right? He relaxed; he felt so, so tired...she surely wouldn't mind if he took a short nap...
"Let him go!"
"What for? He looks so peaceful, don't you agree?" The woman shifted her grip on Ratchet, moved her arms so she could pick him up. He was heavy, even moreso with his waterlogged clothes.
"Let. Him. GO!" She tried to propell herself out of the water, at least to knock the woman from her hoverboard, but only succeeded in getting a few inches more of her body out for a second, creating a splash and a lot of sloshing. "What did you do to him?"
"Relax, it's only ether," she purred, curling herself closer to him. "It won't hurt him; he's only unconcious. I wouldn't want to hurt my lombax, would I?"
"He isn't your lombax," she growled, her largely immobile ears dropping slightly.
The rogue laughed and began to pull away, backing her hoverboard over the water. Sasha, knowing a chase was futile, huffed and turned toward the shore. It couldn't have been very far away, only another twenty feet. If she hurried, the large fish that inhabitted the water wouldn't notice her.
Smiling, the woman turned her board around and sped toward her ship that she'd hidden in the undergrowth. Sasha's escape was immaterial; she had what she wanted. The lombax was heavy in his sleep; she wished he were at least half awake so that he could stand on his own. But he'd never agree to come along with her on his own. He didn't know who she was - couldn't, with her mask - and she wasn't sure he'd agree even if he did know.
She laid him in the passenger seat, stroking his damp fur. The wind created by her hoverboard had partially dried him. He was quite cute in his induced state of sleep, his muscular body relaxed, his face in a state that had changed from alarmed to peaceful, almost happy. She hoped the ether was strong enough to keep him that way until she was back to the Phoenix; she didn't care to take that rag out again. It smelled, even when it wasn't pressed over her nose.
Ratchet, however, was a sound sleeper. His chest continued to rise and fall slowly with deep, even, sleepy breaths. He didn't even flinch as the ship landed in the hanger of the Phoenix and one of the large creatures hefted his body around its neck and shoulders none-too-gently, nor as it placed him rather uncerimoniously into one of the chairs on the bridge. Not trusting him to stay put if he awoke, the woman tied his arms and shoulders to the chair using a length of rope on of the creatures had discovered while rumaging through the many compartments on the ship.
He slept for some time, upwards of two hours. When he finally awoke, he was quite groggy and unsure of himself. The last thing he'd readily recalled doing was leaning against Sasha's shoulder in the hovercar. He could vaguely recall something later about being wet, but it was fuzzy. Perhaps Sasha had decided to chew on his ear? No...that couldn't be it...the wetness was all over, and highly unpleasant.
He say up straight and tried to rub his eyes, but found that his hands were tied. He shook his head instead, slowly, trying not to agrivate the sudden wave of nausia. "Oh, man...what happened?" He thought, slowly, trying to piece together the events. He'd leaned on Sasha...their hovercar...exploded? No, no...the engine just went out. They fell in the water...that was the unpleasant wetness...and then...a female...someone...a masked female...she'd grabbed him from the water and held a foul-smelling rag over his nose...it'd made him feel sick...and sleepy...he'd lost conciousness...and now he was here. In the Phoenix's bridge. She must have been the one Sasha'd said had taken over it!
The doors behind him opened with their mechanical swish, and he heard footsteps approaching behind him, light and metalic, as if the person wore steel boots. There was no mechanical grinding of gears; it couldn't be a robot. Even Clank, as fastidious about oil as he was, made noise when he moved. "Hello, Ratchet," a female voice purred.
His ears shot up in surprise. She turned his chair around and leaned foreward. In annoyance, he put his ears down and turned away. "Let me go."
"Oh, I would, Ratchet, I would," she said, leaning closer and cupping his cheek, "but I know you'll just try and run away. And I do want you to stay." She allowed her hand to drop and run over his chest. Ratchet tucked his legs up before her hand passed his diaphragm. While he had to admit that her touch itself wasn't completely dislikable, he didn't like her. He would have much rathered that Sasha were the one leaning so close and petting him.
Ratchet growled low in his throat. She laughed, put quicked pulled away from him when he lifted a lip. She wasn't too sure he wouldn't bite her, given the chance. He may have been restrained, but he wasn't incapacitated. He thought for a moment. "Who are you?" he finally asked.
"You don't recognize me?" she asked, her voice suddenly small and not as sultry.
Ratchet shook his head. He decided that if she had him caught, he may as well try and get something useful out of it. And that required tact...and questions. "Or those," he said, nodding in the direction of the large creatures behind her. "What are they?"
"An...invention," she began, obviously delighted to talk about them. "They were originally just stupid swamp dwellers, but they've been...improved, so to speak. A few minor tweaks, here and there - they're actually quite efficient soldiers. And why shouldn't they be? It's what they were designed for, to be front line soldiers designed to startle and alarm an enemy. They weren't originally mine, but a few simple changes and they came to accept me as their leader. They're quite good at following orders. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say they thought of me as thier mother." One of the creatures made a gurgling sound in its throat as if agreeing with her.
"Of course," she went on, leaning closer to him again; it took all of Ratchet's willpower not to growl. "I brought them here because I...was jealous." She stroked his cheek softly, not so differently from the way Sasha did at times. She was leaning so close Ratchet could smell her. Not entirely offensive - more like perfume, but of a brand he didn't like. He couldn't identify her personally due to the scent, but something, somehow, was familiar about her. "I saw the two of you together at Clank's movie premier and simply couldn't stand it. I had to have you to myself...
"Of course, you'd never come willingly, at least not at first," she said, backing away from him and turning around. "But I thought that perhaps, after some time...you'd agree."
Ratchet fought the urge to growl and tell her he wasn't available and didn't intend to be, certainly not for her. He took a breath to calm himself. "But I still don't know who you are."
"Would you like to know?" He nodded. "Alright then. Perhaps it will make you more agreeable..." She reached up and removed her mask, pushing her hood back.
Ratchet's eyes widened in shock..