Disclaimer: I do not own the Jak games. That belongs to Naughty Dog.
In Love and War
Chapter 2
Floating. That's all Mat could describe unconsciousness like. But it was definantly not like the sleeping floating. This was where you knew exactly when you went out, and it wasn't sudden. It also seemed to drag on forever. 'What are you doin', man?' Oh great. He was hearing voices again. 'I'm tap dancing. Whattya think, moron! I fell into the water, and I'm down for the count. You saw what happened. I'm just lucky I wasn't killed by Paxton or any of his goons.' 'Yeah, but you lost your squad. Anyway, you're still alive! And a hot chick saved your life!' 'How do you know? I could've been seeing things!' 'Than would you be alive, talking to yourself?' The voice had a point. Oh, great, now he was agreeing with himself. If Mat was able to, he'd roll his eyes until he grew dizzy. If he lived through this, he'd have to see a doctor. However, now it was time to come back into the real world. The first thing that hit him when he awoke was the voices. "Is he alright? I'd hate to lose one of my agents-for-hire," said a scratchy voice, obviously male. Agents-for-hire? Oh, right he was with the Pinkertons. Another voice said "Yes, he'll be fine. I patched up the wound on his le and the cut on his forehead." Must've been the doctor. He didn't remember what he was talking about though. Bullet wound on his leg? Cut on his forehead? What was he talking about? Then there was a third voice, a girl's voice. "What about his back? I saw a bunch of shrapnel sticking out." Huh? Now this was confusing. Time to try something else. He cracked one eyelid open. His vision was fuzzy. His glasses must be somewhere else. He began to look around the room. Three figures stood there. One had reddish-brown hair, another wore a white coat, and a third had…aqua-green hair. Just like the girl who pulled him out of…the port! Mat snapped back to reality as the pain hit him. He opened his other eye as the doctor said "Funny thing, about the shrapnel. I took off his coat and his shirt and found he was wearing a bulletproof vest. The shrapnel hadn't penetrated the first layer. But what puzzled me the most was that the vest was made from an unusual mix of titanium particles and Freedom League armor. Almost completely impenetrable." "That's odd. The Pinkertons don't give those kinds of vests to anyone but their best. Those things are expensive. But this kid can't be much older than sixteen," the scratchy voice. "Excuse me," Mat was shocked to find his mouth moving and his throat speaking. "I'm almost nineteen." All three figures apparently turned around to look at him. He tried to put on his best scowl, but it just gave him a headache. The figure in the white coat said "Ah, you're awake. Good. We weren't sure if you'd make it through the night." "You OK, kid?" asked the scratchy voice, which apparently belonged to the brown-haired guy. "Where's my glasses?" Mat asked, trying to move. He was hit with a sharp pain in his leg and head. "Don't move," said the girl. "I've got them." The figure approached, and then his vision cleared. He looked around. First at the doc, then at the brown-haired guy whom he recognized as Torn, the commander of the Freedom League who was also currently signing the Pinkerton's checks. Then his eyes fell on the girl. Damn, she was so beautiful. It took his breath away. Literally. "What the-" the doc exclaimed, leaning over the pulse reading machine. It had started beeping like crazy. That's when Mat realized he was holding his breath. He let it go, and his pulse eventually settled back down. The doc and Torn put two and two together, and then smiled slyly. Or at least, the doc did. Torn wasn't so forgiving. "What the hell were you doing here anyway, boy?" he said, very loudly. Mat winced. His head wasn't so kind to him when it came to noise right about now. Meanwhile, Torn kept rambling, his voice getting louder and louder until he was shouting. "I oughta behind bars for what you did. Six civilians wounded, one dead, a blast gate destroyed, and about half a mile of Haven forest has tire marks now! What kinda stunt did you think you could-" "Shut up!" yelled Mat, much to his own surprise. Torn did indeed shut up, going red with anger as he did however. That's when Mat poured it all out for them. Every detail. The gunfight, him chasing Paxton, Paxton's escape, and finally, his mad dash to escape from Spargus. "And when I saw the blast gate, I realized I was going too fast to stop, so I laid everything I had on the gate. I was able to blast through and then I skidded into the water. That's all I remember. So get off my case you friggin'-" Mat couldn't bring himself to insult the commander. Instead, he just sat there breathing hard. It was only then that he realized he was sitting up. All of the room's other occupants were staring at him, mouths open. The girl even had a hand clamped over hers. Mat fell back against the pillow and said "My name is Mat Roder. I'm a Sergeant in the Pinkerton Detective Agency. I have broken the Pinkerton Gun Course record three times in a row and am in second best in the racing course record, second only to the chief himself. I'm sorry about your blast gate." The room was now silent except for the steady beep-beep of the pulse machine. Torn finally shut his mouth and, apparently swallowing his pride, said "I'm sorry, kid-I mean Mat. I didn't realize what you'd been through." The doc simply hung his head, but the girl was staring him straight in the face. Not like she thought he was a liar, just that she was…well, concerned. And he thought he would be too, if he wasn't getting lost inside those deep green eyes. Deep, deep, green eyes. Like a mine with only emeralds in it. The doctor said something, and Torn and the girl got up to leave. Mat's hand shot up and he said "Not her, please. I want to get to know…my…I guess 'hero,' a little better." He blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Mat gulped. He hadn't even meant to say that. Torn was already long gone, however, so it didn't really matter if he'd blinked or not. Then, the girl smiled, and said "OK, doc?" The doc shrugged and said "Hell I don't care. They don't pay me enough as it is. Just make sure nothing goes wrong." He followed after Torn, shutting the door behind him. Now they were alone. Silence. Neither of then spoke, trying to size up the other. Mat gulped. This was going to be difficult.
Keira was indeed trying to size Mat up. She looked at every part of his face she could see. The dirty blond buzz cut, the storm-grey eyes, his lips that were set in a line. She didn't know if she should speak first. Then she saw him gulp and realized that he was just as nervous as she was. And she relaxed. Slightly. Walking over to a chair near him, she sat down and said "I'm Keira." The boy, or rather man, smiled. She should start calling him by his real name. "Well, Keira," sat Mat, a glint of relaxation in his eyes. Just a glint. But, like storm clouds covering the sun, his eyes quickly covered that as he asked "What made you save a rascal like me? I felt done in before I made it through the gate." Technically, this wasn't true, since he'd been praying all along. But it felt like the right thing to say. Keira giggled a little, then said "I saw you just before you hit the water. The look on your face said you weren't afraid to die. I figured anyone who was that brave should be given a second chance." "Well, this was more like my twentieth chance," said Mat. Keira laughed again, and Mat struggled to sit up, ignoring the pain, which was very hard to do at this moment, and said "Is Torn always such an ass?" It was a question he had second thoughts about, but those thoughts were blown away as Keira didn't miss a beat and replied "He hasn't always been this way. Only since…" She stopped there as she thought about what she was going to say. How Ashelin and Jak had gotten together? Or should she do it in more of a negative manner and say how much of a bitch Ashelin was. Eventually, she just stuck with the least hurtful answer. "Since the end of the war. That's when we realized we had a lot fewer men than before." Okay, lame excuse, but what could she say? Mat, however, just lay there, and then said, quietly, "I know how he feels. There's no glory in war, except at its end. I've seen more deaths in my service to the Agency than you'll probably see in your whole life." Mat bowed his head, wishing he could better pay his respects the dead, not just Torn's dead men, but ALL the dead he'd seen die. Keira saw the grief in his eyes, again as a flicker before the storm that was apparently brewing in his head covered them up. Mat looked up and she changed the subject. "You said you'd broken the Gun Course record at your Agency three times already. How'd you get to be so good?" Mat smiled again. His smile was very curious. It started in the middle of his lips and spread out to one side first, then the other. It was actually kind of…cute. "Practice," said Mat, brining her out of her daydream. "It also helps that I grew up in Kras City." "No way!" "Way. At fifteen, I was number eight on Kras' Top Ten Paid Hitters list. And if you don't believe that, go check the records!" they sat and talked for hours about interests, hobbies, friends, their hometowns, and finally, about love interests. "So, you went out with Jak, huh? That doesn't surprise me." "Why not?" asked Keira, a little surprised. Mat smiled and said "It's only logical that he'd go out with the cutest girl in town." He froze. He hadn't meant to say that. Keira felt her heart leap at his words. 'He thinks you're cute, you think he's cute. C'mon, girl, get yourself some of that! It's perfect for recovering from what Jak did to you!' Meanwhile, Mat's voice was back with a vengeance. 'She's hot. Seriously hot. And it sounds like she's ripe for the picking!' Mat mentally rolled his eyes. He'd seriously have to see a shrink about this. He looked over at her, dreading Keira's response to his statement. But she just smiled. "Thanks," she said. Continuing, she asked "Did you ever go out with anyone?" To her surprise, Mat began to laugh. Keira wondered what she'd said. It was a perfectly good question, so why was he laughing? Mat finally got his breath and his voice together and asked "Me? What makes you think a girl would want to go out with ME? An eighteen year old gunslinger with glasses. Look at this." He lifted up his shirt, showing off his thin frame. Keira blinked. Mat was thin, but he was…well…muscled. His stomach showed off what she guessed was the start of a six pack, and his shoulder muscles bulged out as they led to his arms. However, what Mat was showing her was a small scar in the middle of his chest. It was a little X. "Got that in a job right here in Haven. I was trying to arrest one of Krew's boys, what was his name…Jinx! That's it! He'd been playing around too much with explosives and I was ordered to get him. But then he shot me right here. Punched a hole through my right lung. The surgeons had to take off some of that lung, so now I'm what you might call an asthmatic." Dropping his shirt, he shifted himself on the bed. Keira unwittingly found that her eyes were tracing along his arms, up to his chest. He was more muscled than she thought. And Mat, being so tired, couldn't stop HIS eyes from going up Keira's frame, from her stomach, up to her chest, to her neck. They both froze when their eyes met. They knew that the other had been checking them out. 'Oh Mar. Look at those eyes! He's got such a mysterious behavior around him for a detective. Ha, a detective with mystery. Kinda funny.' 'Ho-lee-crap, will you look at those curves! Damn it, she's like a fallen angel!' There was an awkward silence. Keira nervously reached into her pocket and slowly pulled something out. Mat squinted when he saw it, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. He reached out and took it. It was real alright. It was his hat. He smiled, looking up at Keira. She was smiling too. "Thanks," he said, plopping the hat onto his head. "You don't know how important this hat is to me." She'd know, though. Eventually.
(Whew, my hands hurt. Well, Whattya think?)