Pet | By : sillyneko345 Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 5457 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the game this story is based on (Jak & Daxter) nor do I make any money from writing it. |
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AN: This is a little somethin'-somethin' I'll be working on between chapters of Keep Talking. (Which is half done, by the way.) I have a bit of an ottsel complex, if you couldn't tell. Characters: Belong to Naughty Dog, Inc. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Daxter had by and large come to grips with the fact that life wasn’t fair. Falling head over ass into a pit of dark eco and coming out a small orange animal? Unfair. Being catapulted a couple centuries into the future and losing his best pal for two years? Unfair. Running dangerous missions for a guy with more ink on his face than would be found in the average stationary set, or getting tossed out into a city where the police force was trying to kill his aforementioned best pal? Unfair. But this? This took the unfair cake and put a cherry of insult-to-injury on top. “Jak is NOT going on a mission without me,” the ottsel hissed. “End. Of. Story.” Torn sighed deeply, fingertips massaging his temples. “Look, rat. It’s nothing personal. But it’s not in the cards.” He looked up at the green-blonde, on whose shoulder Daxter was perched. “Jak, I need you undercover for this mission—as inconspicuously civilian as you can possibly appear. Having a talking animal on your shoulder is like waving a neon orange sign.” “Why does it have to be me this time, Torn?” Jak frowned. “I’m usually all over the high-risk action missions. Can’t someone else do it?” “Trust me, I wouldn’t pick you if I had a choice. My usual informant got grilled hard by the KG last time. I can’t risk sending her out again if they’re suspicious. All you have to do is play it cool, go to the location, make the hookup, and bring me back whatever our contact gives you. It won’t be hard. But he,” Torn pointed firmly at Daxter, “stays. He’d attract too much attention.” “Bull!” Dax yelled, the fur along his spine rising. Jak glanced up at his friend. “Hey, Dax… It’s not that big a deal. It won’t take me long. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather me take you over to the Hip Hog? You could visit with Tess for a while.” Daxter growled, low in his throat. He had not spent two years alone just to get punted to the wayside the moment some dread-headed so-and-so told Jak to ditch him. They could pry him off that shoulder plate over his cold, dead body. “I guess that’s a no,” Jak sighed. Torn stared hard at Daxter, his steepled fingers resting against the hard line of his mouth. “Okay. You know what, rat? I have an idea. There’s a way that I think you’ll be able to go along.” Orange ears perked. “Yeah?” “Yeah. But I don’t think you’ll like it.” “Well, trot it on out. I’m goin’ with Jak no matter what!” Torn got up from his desk without further comment. Pushing aside a curtain, he disappeared into the cluttered back room. What sounded like drawers and cabinets opening and closing followed. Daxter swapped a look with Jak. Maybe he was rustling up a fake moustache? A minute later the commander reappeared, holding what Dax first assumed to be a length of rope. “Alright, here it is. Here’s your cover.” Torn held up the long, ropey thing and it uncoiled through the air, the circular object on the end of it striking his desk with a clatter. It was a leash and a small collar. Daxter was dumbstruck. “No,” Jak snapped. “The rat said he's going with you no matter what. Well, this is the ‘what.’ Deal with it, or leave him behind.” “I’ve told you before, Daxter isn’t a—” “Give it to me.” “Huh?” Jak shot a shocked look at the ottsel on his shoulder. Daxter avoided Jak’s eye. He kept his own eyes trained on Torn instead and tried not to growl. “I said, gimme the damn thing. If it keeps me with Jak, I’ll do it.” Torn handed the leash over with some surprise and not a little amusement. “Well, at least we know you’re loyal. That’s a good pet quality.” “Don’t make me scratch yer eyes out,” Dax muttered as he fastened the collar around his own neck. It was supple leather, good workmanship. The leash attached to it by way of a small clip and D-ring. He pulled the leash in and draped it over Jak’s shoulder next to where he was crouched. “There. Now let’s go get this over with.” “Not so fast.” Torn came out from behind the desk and stood with his arms folded over his chest. He looked them up and down. “Ditch the goggles, rat. And the gloves. Pets don’t wear accessories like that.” “What?! That is just—” “Do you want to go, or don’t you? Yes or no.” Slowly, very slowly, Daxter shut his mouth. Careful and deliberate, he peeled off his gloves and handed them down to Jak, who accepted them silently. The goggles followed a moment later and the little bundle was tucked into the small pack at Jak’s waist. The ottsel slouched on Jak’s shoulder, glaring at Torn. “There. You happy?” “Almost. Just one more thing. I think we need to work on your acting. Let’s practice getting you in character. No talking, no eye rolling, no nada; nothing to show you have anything beyond a rodent’s brain capacity. If you can’t pass for a normal animal, you’ll call attention to Jak and jeopardize the mission.” Dax glowered, but didn’t dispute. It was only for a couple hours. He could be quiet for a couple hours, for Jak. “What do you want me to do?” “I'm going to pretend to be an average civilian and come up to pet you. You just act like a normal, brainless pet. Shouldn’t be too hard.” “Torn,” Jak began again, but was cut off as the commander stepped forward and reached up to Daxter. “Wow, this guy’s pet sure is weird! I think I'll pat it on the head.” He did so, ruffling the short fur there. “I’ve never seen an animal like this before. It’s a funny looking thing, isn’t it—?” The taunts flew through Daxter’s brain to land a bull’s-eye on the sorest of memories. Weird. Funny looking. Miserably ugly. He tilted his head before he could stop himself, sharp canines glinting in the lamplight as his teeth closed harshly around the finger that had been scratching in the fur under his chin. “Oww! Goddammit!” Torn wrenched his hand away, shaking it wildly to ease the sting. Daxter hissed, sinking lower on Jak’s shoulder. The tang of copper lingered on his tongue. “Just getting into character.” “You had that coming,” Jak said frankly as Torn glared. “For the record. Where’s the hookup location?” “It’s a little café on the ritzy side of the harbor,” the commander gritted, wiping his bleeding hand against his pants. “At least, it used to be the ritzy side. I drew you a map. Good luck, and don’t get picked up.” Daxter felt a little shaky as Jak took the map and they turned to go. Damn, had he really just bitten the guy that kept them fed and hidden? That was probably pretty bad, wasn’t it? Make it funny, Dax, make it funny! He managed a snort as they left the room. “See that, Jak? He just wanted an excuse ta pet me.” “More like an excuse to check out the fur for my new gloves, rodent!” Torn snarled after them. The ottsel swallowed the acidic remark that leapt to the tip of his tongue. He had to be serious about this undercover thing, so he might as well get used to being silent now. It was going to be a long couple of hours. He did, however, flip Torn the bird over his shoulder. “Enjoy your pet, Jak. If he makes it back alive you might want to consider obedience training and a good, old fashioned neuter!” “Just remember ta take those awesome ottsel gloves off before ya jerk off, sicko!” Daxter screamed seconds before the doors closed behind them. “Easy, Dax, easy.” A hand came up to stroke gently from the middle of Daxter’s back down his tail: all Jak could reach when his smaller companion was up on his shoulder. “You won, okay? He’s just pissed that you showed him up.” “Damn right I did,” Daxter huffed petulantly. He lay down across the hero’s shoulders, ears flitting back at the feel of the collar shifting on his neck, the pull of the leash as it slithered down Jak’s side and Jak reached to roll it around his hand. “Tug on that an’ I’ll bite yer ear off.” “I won’t, don’t worry. You just relax and I’ll take care of everything.” Jak was quiet a moment before he smiled. “Thanks for coming with me, Dax. I appreciate it. Really, I do.” A warm, fuzzy feeling spread under Daxter’s chest ruff. Well. Maybe the whole pet charade was worth it after all. - // - // - // - // - To be continued. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - (2nd)AN: The next chapter will be longer. This was just the scene-setter, so to speak. - - - - -While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. 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