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Room and Board	By : sillyneko345 Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 25355 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own the game this story is based on (Jak & Daxter) nor do I make any money from writing it.

Chapter List
- 1-Ch. 1
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 21-Ch. 21
- 22-Ch. 22
- 23-Ch. 23
- 24-Ch. 24
- 25-Ch. 25
- 26-Ch. 26
- 27-Ch. 27
- 28-Ch. 28
- 29-Ch. 29
- 30-Ch. 30
- 31-Ch. 31
- 32-Ch. 32
- 33-Ch. 33
- 34-Ch. 34
- 35-Ch. 35
- 36-ch. 36
- 37-ch. 37
- 12
- 13
- 14
Characters: Belong to Naughty Dog, Inc.
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“What about Tech 101? Tuesdays and Thursdays at nine thirty. Third one down.”
“Yeah, I see it. Professor Vin, huh? Looks okay ta me. Want it?”
“Let’s do it. I’ll text Phoenix and see if he can get in before they fill up.”
Daxter rolled his eyes good-naturedly as his roommate whipped out his phone. “Whatever you say, Jakkie-boy.” He double clicked on the chosen course listing, sending the request into his online profile.
Praxis Hall’s computer lab buzzed amiably with the murmurs of students submitting their online course requests for the upcoming spring semester. During a break in their afternoons, after class but before they had to go their separate ways, Jak had called a powwow to determine how much of next semester’s schedule could be synchronized. So far the operation was a success, with three of five classes registered for together.
Jak scanned the list on the screen in front of him. “Okay, so we covered math, history, and tech. Can we get anything else?”
“Unless you wanna take Spanish 102 plus a creative writing course—”
“Pass.”
“That’s what I thought. Then that covers it. I look forward to a promising spring semester, Mr. Mar. And by ‘promising’ I mean one in which I sleep through all the boring parts of our classes an’ you share all yer notes.”
Jak gave him a deceptively placid stare. “Don’t assume that fifteen credit hours won’t leave me time to noogie you to death.”
“Psssh. Don’t assume fifteen creds and a job won’t leave me time ta hurl myself back in the utility closet if I stoop low enough ta bum notes off the fake jock. The shame! I would never live it down!”
Spinning a half turn in his computer chair, Jak flipped a pencil eraser at him. “I’d never let you live it down. But I would hope you’d stay out of the closet.” His smirk softened noticeably as the redhead huffed. “By the way. How are things with you and Razer?”
Well, crap. Just the topic Daxter had been avoiding for four days now. He primly turned back to his own computer and proceeded to open the student email client. “Things are just dandy with me an’ Razer. I ain’t spoken ta the the guy since Saturday. Just the way I like it.”
The quarterback frowned. “Dax, you can’t just avoid Razer for the rest of the year.”
“Oh yeah? Watch me.”
“Come on, the guy lives next door to us. I’m still not real happy with him either, but… It would be great if we could all keep getting along. Didn’t he apologize to you? Phoenix told me he did. He even apologized to me for that.”
The truth of the matter was that Razer had, in fact, apologized. To Daxter’s amazement, he had been sought out about it only hours after the ill-fated argument had taken place. But, no matter how sincere the older student’s formal apology had seemed, Dax just couldn’t drop his guard again so easily. There was too much of a chance that Razer had only tried to make peace to appease Jak and Phoenix. It was just better to give him as wide a berth as possible.
“… yeah, he said he was sorry.”
“Good.” Jak looked pleased. “I’ll be glad when we can all hang out together again.”
“Yeah, sure.” Moving on with life. Email checked, Daxter logged off and stretched. “Bluh. I guess I better get back upstairs and change. Gotta be at work at two.” He stood up, waiting for Jak to follow him out of the lab.
“You’re getting an awful lot of hours lately,” the green-blonde observed as they ascended the stairwell.
“I know, right? I’ve never had so much money in my life! Not ta mention all the free pizza. I’ll bring ya some tonight if ya say pretty please.”
Jak grinned. “Pretty please with sugar on top. I have practice this afternoon. I’m gonna be—”
“Starving. I know.” Daxter waved him off with a long-suffering sigh. He knew the drill. “Coach crammin’ in one more practice before the big day, huh?”
Blue eyes rolled to the ceiling panels. “Oh yeah. He’s foaming at the mouth. I mean, I know it’s the first game of the playoffs, but there are only so many ways he can motivate and lecture and threaten us before we start tuning him out and just, y’know. Play football.”
The redhead waved it off as they reached their room. “Meh. Don’t worry about it, big guy. You’ll do great. Ya always do.”
“You’re coming to the game to make sure I do great, aren’t you?” Jak asked.
Dax thought it over as he shucked his hoodie for his uniform shirt. “I’ll do my best, Jakkie-boy. Saturday nights are hell’a busy, plus everybody’ll probably be gorgin’ on pizza left an’ right on a game night.” He couldn’t help but notice his friend’s crestfallen expression. “…but I’m gonna ask Taryn when I go in if I can have it off.”
Jak perked up instantly. “Cool.”
“Yeah, yeah. Heaven forbid I miss a game. What am I, yer lucky rabbit’s foot?”
A big hand reached out and began to exaggeratedly pet his hair. “Oh, absolutely. Soft and fluffy.”
“Gah, stop that! I ain’t yer ferret!” Daxter swatted the hand away, grabbed his Pizza Haven cap off the back of his desk chair, and smashed it onto his head. “Alright, I’m out’a here. Have fun at practice, okay? Don’t get yer marbles bashed out before the big game.”
“Don’t let any kids dump soda on you.”
“I swear ta God, I’m gonna start sprayin’ the evil brats an’ their lousy parents with hot marinara when they do that.” Hey, that was a great idea! He had to remember that one. “See ya later, Jak.”
“Later.”
Daxter pulled the door closed behind himself and trotted down the hall, deep in thought. So Jak wants me ta come watch the game. Okay, no big deal. Ain’t like it’s a date. We’re best pals—I should’a known he’d want me there. Guess the least I can do is show up an’ cheer for the guy, since I’m being all creeper-crushy on him. Now, what kinda sweet talk I can lay on Taryn ta make her gimme the night off…?
- // - // - // - // -
“Okay, boys, that’s a wrap. Good job out there today. Keep up that enthusiasm and we’ll kill ‘em on Saturday! Dismissed.” Coach Sig’s whistle shrilled through the frosty air.
Jak breathed a sigh of relief as the Haven Warriors broke their huddle and dispersed toward the locker rooms. The wind had died down, but it was still more than cold enough for snow—certainly cold enough to quickly steal the impressive body heat that a two hour practice session had drummed up as soon as the body stopped moving. Two minutes into the coach’s final pep talk before game day and the quarterback had been shivering as the sweat he was soaked with turned chill.
“Lovely day for a romp on the old gridiron, don’t you think, Jak?” Phoenix quipped, jogging up beside him. “Gorgeous gray skies, below freezing temperatures, slightly crazed coach. All in a day’s work.”
“If it doesn’t snow before the sun goes down I’ll be very surprised,” Jak grumbled as they walked into the lockers. “I can’t feel my feet anymore.” Post-practice shower was going to feel sooooo good.
“Just think of what we’ll have to look forward to this weekend. There’s a chance of flurries all day Saturday.”
“Silence, blasphemer, or I’ll snap you with a towel so hard they’ll hear you screaming all the way back at the dorm.”
Despite the threats, cleanup and decompression got underway as normal. The room filled with the buzz of conversation, the slamming of lockers, the spray of showers. Jak shucked his helmet, gear, uniform, and cleats on the bench beside his locked, snagged a towel, and headed for the last sound eagerly. Phoenix followed casually behind him.
The warm, muggy steam and hot water felt as good as the green-blonde had hoped, and he stood with his face in the spray for several minutes—until the water suddenly went icy. “Goddamn it!” he roared, eyes flying open just in time to see Phoenix’s hand dart away from his shower knob.
Laughing madly, the Aussie dashed out of the showers, splattering soap and water everywhere. He sideswiped Mog, who fell ass first into the towel hamper with an “oof!” of surprise and puzzlement.
Jak was hard on his heels, towel clutched around his waist. “I was relaxing, you son of a bitch! What the hell is the matter with you?!”
Phoenix had reached his locker, directly across from Jak’s, and was still laughing. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry, mate. I couldn’t resist.”
“I just bet you couldn’t,” Jak muttered darkly. Shooting his friend a last evil glance, he opened his own locker and began to pull out his clothes. Obviously that was the only way he was going to be getting warm.
Phoenix looked back over his shoulder beseechingly as they started to dress. “I was just trying to have a little bit of fun. Everyone’s been so bloody serious for the past few days.”
Jak sighed as he pulled on boxers, jeans, and socks. “Yeah. I guess it has been kind of uptight.” It seemed like Razer was avoiding him and Daxter just as much as the redhead was avoiding Razer. They still had to pass in the halls sometimes, though. Things were awkward and strained. “So. Is Razer feeling…?” He searched for the words as he tugged his shirt on. “I don’t know. Any more human lately?”
There was a pause as Phoenix shook out his shirt and jeans. The running back looked thoughtful, his long black hair still loose and dripping as it framed his face. “To tell you the truth, Jak, I’m not sure. Razer has some… issues.”
“I never would have guessed,” Jak grumbled, plopping down on the bench to lace up his shoes. Who was he kidding? Razer was practically the poster boy for brooding security issues. Everyone knew the guy was about as easy to get close to as a twenty foot saguaro cactus was to climb. That Phoenix had managed to get as close as he already had seemed like a small miracle in itself.
“Try not to think too badly of him. He’s trying, really he is. I wish I could help more, but there’s still a lot he hasn’t told me.”
That he could understand. It had taken months for his own roommate to really start opening up around him, and Daxter’s personality seemed to be inherently much more outgoing than Razer’s. “I don’t know what to tell you, Phoenix. Other than to just keep trying.”
“Oh, I will, don’t worry about that. I’m going to continue being this bloody idiot’s friend if it kills me.”
Jak laughed. “I know the feeling. Why the hell are we so stubborn, Phoenix?”

The running back grinned at him. “Must be a trait all football players share.”
He was about to remark on what that said about the general intelligence of the sport, coming dangerously close to channeling Daxter’s more caustic jock remarks, when the shout rang out from the locker room door.
“Fight in the parking lot!”
Jak hesitated barely a second before he bolted, leaving Phoenix to stumble into his pants behind him. If a teammate was announcing a fight, another teammate had to be in it. Shit, shit, shit. That was all they needed, someone getting injured off the field before the first game of the playoffs. He skidded out into the hallway well behind the majority of the team; thanks to his gossip session with Phoenix slowing them up, most of the other players had already gone. But before he could chase the retreating figures still in his line of sight, though, Sig ran out of his office.
“Fuckin’ hell!” The coach didn’t slow down as he passed. He didn’t need to; Jak was already at his side. “This way, chili pepper—we’ll go out the side and beat ‘em there.” Sig cut around a corner and swung over a railing, heading for the exit that led directly to the main stadium parking lot. Everyone else seemed to have gone out the main entrance.
Jak put on a burst of speed and vaulted over, hard on Sig’s heels. Bare feet slapping the tile behind them announced that Phoenix too was on his way to back them up. Good. Between the three of them there should be no problem breaking up whatever was going on out there. The quarterback was fully confident of that.
He was confident of that until the three of them burst out the side door onto the cold sidewalk and actually saw what was going on. The quarterback mouthed a near-silent “Oh, shit.”
This wasn’t a blustering round of pushing and posturing. Or a one-on-one fistfight. Or even a practiced duel between serious contenders. What was happening in the parking lot was an all-against-one brawl. A single figure was faced off against what looked at first glance to be half their team. Most of the cheerleaders stood in a huddle near a sports car parked in the fire lane, gasping and shrieking with every blow and lunge.
The lone wolf swung out in a somehow graceful move, some sort of stocky weapon in his grip. Then he pivoted, and Jak got a good look at his face for the first time. “Isn’t that…?” he muttered disbelievingly, but even as the thought left him he knew who it was.
Razer was proceeding to beat the hell out of his team with what looked like a piece of a tree branch, and was getting the hell beaten out of himself right back for the effort.
Phoenix was frozen beside Jak, staring mutely at the carnage.
Sig was a bit more vocal. “Time!” he bellowed, the one word guaranteed to be instantly obeyed by all players present. Most of the crowd stopped short, turning to face their coach, but the ones immediately engaged with Razer didn’t so much as pause. Verbal warnings were obviously not going to cut it.
Jak glanced at Phoenix and then they were both moving, racing to get between the combatants before any more damage was done. Phoenix took the lead almost instantly, hardly seeming to touch the ground as he sprinted ahead, entirely focused on his roommate.
“Phoenix!” Jak yelled after him, more than alarmed by the sudden reminder that his friend was still barefoot and shirtless in the freezing parking lot, wet hair streaming behind him. “Hey! Let me and Sig handle it!”
His words fell on deaf ears. Freezing concrete, hard gravel, shards of glass, field of land mines—Phoenix paused for nothing as he exploded into the ring of players surrounding his roommate like a detonating grenade.
Jak hit the fray mere seconds later with arms outstretched, grabbing his teammates by the backs of their coats and trying to haul them away even as he maneuvered to get near Razer. Phoenix was already there, standing in front of his bloody friend like a living shield and blocking the blows.
“Stop! Everybody stop! What the hell is going on?!” Jak yelled in a desperate bid for order, but between the continued screams of the cheerleaders, a barrage of angry shouts from the team, the wail of approaching sirens, and another deafening bellow from Sig, he got no clear answer.
Mass chaos seemed to be the order of the day. Rather than stopping the fight, the appearance of the quarterback and running back stepping in to defend their opponent seemed to be confusing the team. Players began to switch sides, turning on each other in what quickly devolved from a fistfight into a melee of indiscriminate grappling that would surely have done the Haven U wrestling team proud.
“Alright, I’ve had about enough of this bullshit! Break it the hell up, you morons!” Sig waded into the mess, grabbing young men left and right by the collars of their jackets and hurling them apart. “You and you,” he ordered, picking out two of the less beaten players with quick snaps of his fingers, “start helping these guys off the ground. You three over there, you go keep those girls from runnin’ off, we need ‘em to tell the police what happened. All the rest of you, get the hell back! Up on the sidewalk, right now!”
Then campus security arrived.
There was nothing Jak could do but watch dumbly as Razer, divested of his weapon at gunpoint, was handcuffed and led away from them. By his side, Phoenix stood helplessly. The entire scene had taken on an air of surrealism—it had come out of the blue, upended the world, and then was over in an instant, like a tornado through summer fields.
Sig suddenly appeared behind them. “You,” he said, dropping a hand on Phoenix’s shoulder, “get your ass back inside and get dressed. I don’t need a running back with pneumonia.”
Even in the face of what had just happened, their coach had a good point. Phoenix’s bare feet had to be as numb as the rest of him looked. Jak grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him away from the crowd. As soon as they were clear of the mob of players, cheerleaders, and security officers taking witness statements, he leaned in. “Do you have any idea what the hell that was all about?”
The Aussie straightened up, finally looking him in the eye. “Not a bloody clue.” Then he turned his attention back to the stadium and began to stride with great purpose toward it. “But I intend to find out.”
Unfortunately, by the time Phoenix finished dressing, Razer had already been loaded into a squad car and taken away, along with all the players directly involved in the initial fight. Beyond some minor questioning when they found out that he was Razer’s roommate, security wouldn’t tell Phoenix anything.
Sig noticed when the running back’s anger began to boil over. “Cool it, chili pepper,” he growled, holding Phoenix back with a strong grip on his shoulder. “I don’t need two more men involved in this mess.”
Jak felt a surge of sympathy for his friend. Phoenix was obviously frustrated, helpless to do anything for Razer. The green-blonde turned to Sig, his own resolve hardening. “We’re already involved.”
Phoenix looked up in surprise.
“Razer’s our friend, and that was our team trying to flatten him,” Jak continued firmly. For Phoenix’s sake, he couldn’t let Sig shut them out of everything, too. “You don’t get much more involved than we are.”
Phoenix’s look turned grateful. He seemed to relax, if only slightly.
Sig, hands on his hips, looked up at the roiling sky for inspiration. The sun was already starting to set behind the blanket of clouds, the wind picking up. “We’re not having this conversation out in the open,” he finally grumbled, glancing around as if checking for eavesdroppers. “My office. Ten minutes. And don’t you dare bring anyone else who’s ‘involved.’”
With that they dispersed. Sig headed back inside, probably to his office to place some careful calls. Phoenix excused himself in a bid to move Razer’s car, currently guarded by one of the remaining officers, out of the stadium’s fire lane before it could be towed.
As for Jak, he headed back to the lockers to collect his gear while he waited for the designated rendezvous time to roll around. Once they could piece together what had really happened out in the parking lot, he would do all he could to help Phoenix figure out how to help Razer—but at the same time, he could feel a headache coming on. Why do I feel like this clusterfuck of a day isn’t even close to being over yet…?
- // - // - // - // -
“You tell her.”
“Nu-uh. No way, dude. You tell her.”
“Why me?! She’s your cousin, you tell her!”
“She’s always mad at me! She likes you, dude. You tell her.”
“Well I highly doubt she’s gonna like me anymore if I tell her the ice machine’s crapped out again! She had a fit the first time it happened.” Daxter peered cautiously into Pizza Haven’s kitchen, where Taryn was industriously tossing dough. “Ximon, listen, I really need her ta stay happy with me fer just a little bit longer, alright? I gotta ask her a favor.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ximon lounged against the wall next to him, unconcernedly sipping an iceless soda. “What are you gonna ask her?”
“See, thing is, I reeeeally need Saturday night off. And I’m kind of scheduled ta work it right now.”
“What’s going on Saturday?”
Daxter gave the blonde a sidelong frown. “Oh, nothin’ much. Just the first game’a the playoffs. Y’know, the football playoffs? The football playoffs the Warriors qualified for because an’ only because my best pal Jak is the best freshman quarterback the university’s ever seen?”
“Oh! Right, right, dude. That game.”
“Yeah, that game. I gotta be there. Jak asked me ta come cheer for him. I really need ta get that night off.” The redhead gave Ximon a sudden shove that landed the delivery guy in full view of the kitchen. “So you tell her!”
“Delivery up!” Taryn yelled at precisely that moment, appearing from the depths of the restaurant with a stack of pizza boxes. “Oh, good, there you are, Ximon. For once you’re here when I need you.”
Taking the pizzas as the stays of execution that they so obviously were, Ximon turned tail and ran for the door. “Sorry, dude! I got deliveries to make—you tell her!”
Daxter glared daggers at the retreating back of his coworker. “See if I ever make an excuse fer you again.”
Sensing a disturbance in the Force, Taryn turned to him with narrowed eyes. “Tell me what, Daxter?”
He immediately began to flail. “Uh—I—ah, y’see, there might be a teensy little problem with the—”
“Excuse me, miss?” A customer leaned over the counter, holding her drink cup in one hand. “The ice machine isn’t working.”
Daxter smiled innocently. “Yeah, what she said.”
Taryn threw her hands up with a groan. “Oh, for the love of—again? What are we even paying these useless repairmen for?” She threw aside her apron and grabbed a wrench from under the cash register, flashing a brilliantly fake smile at the unimpressed customer. “I’ll be with you in just a moment, ma’am. So sorry for the inconvenience. Daxter, find the ‘out of order’ sign.”
“Hey, wait!” The redhead halted her bustle with an imploring look. “Can I have Saturday night off?”
She blinked. “Saturday? This Saturday?”
“Yeah, this Saturday.”
“Daxter, you can’t be serious. That’s a game night.”
“Well, see, that’s why I need the night off! Y’know my roommate—my best friend—Jak, right? He’s on the team. He really wants me ta be there. I told him I’d cheer him on.” He clasped his hands and gave her his best sad puppy face. “So pa-leeeeeease?”
Taryn facepalmed with a deep sigh. “Listen. As much as I respect your very manly bromance with your roommate, Saturday night is going to be insane. We’ll have a line out the door, if past game nights are anything to go by. I really need you to be here.”
His ears drooped. “What if I can get somebody ta cover for me?”
“… alright. If you can get someone to cover for you, be my guest. Go to the game. Enjoy the game. Cheer your little heart out until it freezes solid inside your chest. Saturday’s forecast looks terrible.”
“Awesome!” Daxter whooped. “Despite that incredibly morbid imagery, I fully plan on findin’ somebody ta cover for me. Thanks, Taryn. Yer the best boss ever.”
“Oh, am I?” She raised a lavender brow with a half smile. “Then you won’t mind staying to help me close up tonight.”
Dax balked. “What?! No no no no, hang on, I’m supposed ta get off in fifteen minutes! I’ve got important stuff ta take care of, toots.” Important stuff like bringing Jak a pizza. It was already almost eight o’clock—the quarterback would have been out of practice for at least three hours. The poor guy was probably scarfing down ferret treats by now! …yeah, okay, so Jak would just go down to the cafeteria if he was hungry, but Daxter had promised him pizza and he wanted to bring pizza, damn it.
“Is the important stuff you have to do more important than being paid double time for the next three hours?” Taryn cooed sweetly.
Damn it! She knew how to get him right where it hurt. But since Jak had probably already eaten anyway, what was the harm? “… I guess maybe it can wait ‘til we close.” He could always use the pizza as a midnight snack, right? Right.
“Excellent. I knew there was a reason I keep you around, Daxter.” Behind the counter, the phone rang. “And, right on cue. It never ends. Go get that sign put up and find the ice bucket—it should be next to the sausage in the freezer.”
With a sigh, the redhead grabbed the oft-used sign and headed out to the drink dispensers. He would have to send Jak a text of explanation if he got half a chance. A chance which looked less likely to happen as he approached the drink station. “Hey, little guy? Kiddo? Sorry, but the ice machine’s not workin’.”
The little boy, who had pushed a nearby chair over and was using it as a stool to reach the soda spouts, blinked at him.
“See? This here sign says that the ice maker is broken.” Daxter held the cardboard up helpfully, even though the kid didn’t look old enough to be reading it just yet. “I’ll go in the back an’ get ya some ice out’a the freezer, so why don’t ya hop on down from there before somebody breaks a leg an’ sues the restaurant, okay?”
For a moment, the little boy seemed to think it over. Then he turned back to the soda machine and, leaning all his weight behind it, smashed his plastic kiddy cup into the ice lever. The lever snapped with a crack and flew three tables over, landing in a plate of spaghetti. A tiny mouth fell open. “Uh-oh!”
“Yeah, uh-oh!” Daxter shrieked, dropping the sign to grab what hair wasn’t covered by his uniform cap. “What the heck, kid?! I just told ya the thing was broken!” His fingers itched to yank the little turd down off the chair, violating the hell out of the policy where employees weren’t allowed to touch customers for any reason. “Where’s yer mom!?”
Blink, blink. “In’a baf’room.”
“In the bathroom. Of course she’s in the bathroom. That’s it, kid, I am so getting the manager! Taryn!”
Suddenly double pay didn’t hold quite the same appeal it had five minutes prior. All he wanted in life was to go home and see Jak’s face light up as the corners of his mouth got smeared with pizza sauce. Hopefully I’ll survive until I can get home… Goddamn, I hope Jakkie-boy had a better day than me!
- // - // - // - // -
To be continued.
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- 12
- 13
- 14
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