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Keep Talking	By : sillyneko345 Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 6850 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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-Keep Talking
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Epilogue
- 4
- 5
- 6
AN: This fic is giving me as much trouble as its predecessor. Why did I start writing this damn fic? *grumble grumble*
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Grimreaperchibi: You are forgiven, first and foremost. Second, yes. Ashelin is a twerp. You can beat her if you choose. Third, Daxter will be well rewarded for his self control. He most certainly will.
CrabRangoonMonster: Daxter is an excellent storyteller. It is a known fact. Let’s see if he can storytell his way out of a Razer smackdown.
Kuromei: Daxter thanks you for your desire to kick Ashelin’s ass. And for your concern about Razer. We shall see if it’s justified!
Mrs. Ero-Cook: Glad I was able to make you laugh!
KCD: Sorry the last update was so short. Thanks for bearing with me!
Tainted_Emerald: So glad you enjoyed the phoneless phone sex. It was a spur-of-the-moment development. Razer and Rayne chill each other out a little, I think. They wear each other out, anyway. Lol
Anne: The fandom needs more submissive Jak. Especially with Daxter. And therefore, this.
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Characters: Belong to Naughty Dog, Inc.
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It took Jak doing a top to bottom search of the entire base for him to suspect that something was wrong.
“Has anybody seen Dax?” he finally asked in exasperation. “Did anybody hear him say he was going out or something?”
Torn and Ashelin, looking much more unkempt and much more relaxed, had reappeared from their storage closet rendezvous to join Keira in the communal living area where the air was actually breathable. The kitchen was officially a chemical war zone, the spices flying so thick and fast that even Princess had been forced to slink from her master’s side for the duration of barbeque prep. None of them could remember seeing Daxter more recently than that afternoon.
“Okay, well, when’s the last time you saw him?” Keira asked practically. “It can’t have been that long ago. We were all out in the garage together and he was running around busy as a whumpbee.”
Jak shrugged. “He was out there right up until we decided to pack in. One minute he was there, and then—” And then. Jak trailed off, his mind whirling into overdrive.
Daxter had been there the whole time. Right up until the very end of the maintenance day. Jak had been staring at him out of the corner of his eye, and the only thing that snapped him out of his redhead-induced trance had been… another redhead. One with dreadlocks and lipstick. He stared across the room at Ashelin, mouth falling open in sudden understanding.
Oh. Oh, holy damn.
Her pretty face scrunched up in confusion as he stared. “What?”
No. No way. There was no possible way that Daxter could have seen Ashe kiss him. If Dax had seen that he would have blown up with the force of Jinx’s entire stockpile of eco-based explosive devices. He wouldn’t have just disappeared without a word to anyone. Would he?
“What?” Ashelin demanded again, clearly clueless. “You’re staring at me like I just blew up an orphanage. What did I do?”
“You kissed me,” Jak growled before he could begin to consider the consequences, “in front of my boyfriend!”
The silence was deafening for all of two seconds, before Keira sucked in a little gasp of understanding. “Oh, no! You think Daxter saw that?”
“He had to have seen that. It was right there in front of everybody.” Jak’s head was starting to hurt.
Now Torn was the one wearing the scrunched up face of blatant confusion. He looked back and forth between Jak and Keira, traded a stunned glance with Ashelin. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out. In front of your what?”
“Boyfriend, you guys. It’s not a hard word.” Keira’s lower lip pouted out like it did when she put her game face on. She put her fists on her hips in a way that booked no nonsense. “Ashe, that was really stupid! I told you guys forever ago that Jak and Daxter are a couple! You can’t just go around kissing people in front of their—”
“I didn’t think you were serious!” Ashelin cried defensively. She looked like she was still waiting for someone to yell ‘April fools!’
“I thought you were drunk,” Torn said bluntly. “Jak and his rat… that’s damned disturbing, is what it is.”
“Your face is disturbing!” Keira shot back hotly. “And for your information, Jak and Daxter have been best friends since they were toddlers. This is true love! Hard as it may be for you to believe, where we come from—when we come from—happy endings actually do exist. And if you screw this up for my friends I’ll screw you up with my tire iron!”
Torn leaned back into the new sofa, looking almost scared. Ashelin pressed to his side, holding a throw pillow to her chest like a fabric and stuffing shield. “Who are you and what did you do with the dippy mechanic girl?”
Keira opened her mouth wide—and sneezed.
Sig appeared from the kitchen a moment later, his own eyes watering and red. He was smiling hugely. “Hey everybody, the ribs are sizzlin’! Not too much longer now.” The announcement was met from all quadrants with silent stares. The big man sighed. “Okay, what’d I miss this time?”
Jak hovered for a heartbeat, then turned on his heel and stalked out. As worried as he’d been hitherto about the team wising up to the evolution of his relationship with Dax, the muse was out of the bag now. There was nothing he could do to make them un-learn the information or shape their opinions toward the positive. But there was one very important thing he could do: find out where his redhead had gone and talk this mess out, as soon as humanly possible.
- // - // - // - // -
“So. There is no polite way to say this, so I shall be frank.” Razer rested his chin on the backs of his interlocking fingers as he looked his uninvited guest up and down across his kitchen table. “Are you mentally challenged? Handicapped in that area in any way? Did your guardian drop you on your head when you were a small child?”
Blue eyes met green over the lip of a wine glass as Daxter glared back. The guy was such a wise-ass. That didn’t mean that his wine wasn’t top notch, though. Mmm, was that wine ever fantastic. Dax took another generous sip. “Not that I can think of right off the bat. Why ya ask?”
“I am merely trying to preempt any guilt that I might have when I finally kill you and put you out of my misery.”
“Aww, Razer. That’s no way ta talk to a pal.”
“No, but it is more than appropriate for a degenerate such as yourself who invites themselves willingly onto the property of the man whose very expensive sofa—”
“Cool yer jets, Smokey. We didn’t do anything ta yer precious sofa. Yer rude ass came home right before things could get good. I had Jakkie-boy right where I wanted him!”
Razer’s normally pale face was slowly turning crimson across the cheekbones. “—that you so crassly desecrated with your lewdness—”
“You were totally about ta bang Rayn’s brains out an’ I’m the lewd one?”
“—silence!—and if you are not mentally incapacitated then I must draw the conclusion that you are merely very, very stupid. I refuse to feel badly about pumping idiots full of lead.”
Daxter pouted sadly and reached for the wine bottle with a sneaky hand. “That hurts, Razer. Really it does.” Bottle secured, he filled his own glass and leaned across the small table to top off the other. “Relax and have some’a this, it’ll do ya good. This stuff is delicious! I should put a bug in Tessie’s ear ta import this brand.”
“Putting a bullet between your insolent eyes would do me good, you little—!”
“You waste me an’ not only will Jak redecorate this place with yer vital organs, Rayn’ll never sleep with ya again. Keira’s good, but she can’t do all the team’s mechanizin’ by herself, ya know.”
The older racer’s face spasmed in what could have almost passed for agony. It seemed that the repercussions of killing a valued mechanic employed by the woman he was courting registered loud and clear. “You… she… I…” After stumbling over the words for a long moment in a most un-Razer-like display of lost cool, his ears fell flat. He huffed out a deep breath and grabbed for his wine glass. “I have officially lost control of my life.”
“You better believe it. Precursors take the wheel!”
“You are the devil,” Razer growled, draining his glass and then shoving it toward the leering redhead for an immediate refill. “You are the devil in the guise of a skinny orange rodent.”
“Angels, devils, they all race around the same track. Now shut up and let’s drink.”
Drink Razer did. Half the fresh glass in one long gulp. “For the life of me, I still cannot understand why Jak is so enamored of you. Surely he has other romantic options just flinging themselves into his path.”
Daxter grimaced before he could remember to glare at his unwilling drinking buddy for the slight. “Yeah, I guess. But Jak ain’t a total jerk-nut like you. He loves me. Not them.” More wine. More wine pronto.
“You sound a bit unsure. Having a bit of relationship strife, are we? Is that by any chance why you happened to walk all the way across town on your own?”
“How d’you know how I got here?” Dax grumbled.
“There isn’t a car crushing the posies on my front lawn, you imbecile. Unlike some people I am more than proficient at using the powers of observation. And I observe that I touched upon a sore subject just a moment ago.”
“Screw you.”
“I thought so.” Razer smiled smugly. “Well, go on. You are already here. The least you can do is tell me about it so I can laugh at the two of you, stumbling about like children. Goodness, all must have been right with the world last night for you to be rendezvousing on my furniture. What could Jak have possibly done to upset you in so short a time?”
“Would you wipe that shit-eatin’ smile off yer face?” Daxter growled irritably. “Not that it’s any of yer beeswax, but Jak didn’t do anything. One’a the girls planted one on him right in front of me. Pissed me the hell off.”
Razer looked up from his glass in real surprise. “Someone kissed your lover and had the nerve to do it in your presence? Have you run her over yet?”
“Psssh, yeah right. I would’a liked to when she did it, but come on. None of the team knows me an’ Jak are, y’know. Together. I guess I can’t really blame her for somethin’ she didn’t even know wasn’t cool.” The redhead finished off his third glass of wine to quell his rising annoyance. Kiss was in the past. Kiss wouldn’t happen again. Not if he could help it, anyway. And if it did… “Besides. I can’t, like. Kill team members. That ain’t cool either.”
“Team member or not, unwittingly or not, she has encroached on your boundaries and that is not acceptable,” Razer stated, pointing firmly over his empty glass. “Show some backbone, rat boy.”
Dax couldn’t help but laugh at the thought as he obliged the other man with another pour. The bottle was nearing its end. “Okay, yeah, it’s tempting. But seriously, I literally can’t kill Ashelin. She’s governor of Haven City, fer one. I really don’t wanna know what they do ta guys who kill dignitaries. Also, she’s really good at combat racin’ and we kinda need her on the team. Corpses don’t race, y’know.”
“Everyone is replaceable.” Razer said it with a perfectly straight face, which made Daxter laugh harder, though he suspected somehow that it shouldn’t have. “Besides, there are plenty of ways to make people simply… disappear. Or you could make it look like an accident. That is always a viable option.”
“Dude, yer enjoyin’ this too much. Should that scare me?” He swirled the scant liquid in the bottom of the bottle. “We’re almost out’a wine.”
Razer waved an unconcerned hand. “Grab another bottle, then. Honestly, boy, you act as if I haven’t been around the block a few times. A racing garage is an accident waiting to happen. All of those power tools, all of that stored eco, all of those heavy vehicles suspended above the ground. It would be laughably simple.”
“Oh, man, car squish. Brutal!” Daxter was giggling like an idiot as he emerged from the liquor cabinet with a fresh bottle, one that looked even more choice than the last. It felt good to laugh. A warm flush was crawling up his ears and across his cheeks. That felt good, too. He hadn’t gone drinking in a while. He and Jak needed to go drinking sometime. Maybe make a date out of it; get wasted on champagne and then get their freak on in a bed shaped like a giant heart, or something. That would be awesome.
The thought of dates caused a ripple in the redhead’s wandering subconscious. He didn’t have anything going on this evening that he needed to remember, did he? Nowhere he needed to be? He didn’t think he did. But then again maybe there was something important he was supposed to—
“Staring at it will not encourage it to magically open and pour itself,” Razer said sourly. “Give it here.” He snatched the bottle away and deftly extracted the cork.
“Do you actually have a wine cork screwy-thingie on yer keyring? Is that even safe?”
Razer scowled. “If you proceed to question my ability to gage my own drinking practices I will cease sharing with you immediately.”
“Okay, okay, sheesh. Shuttin’ up.” Dax raised his hands in a placating gesture. The guy could be so damn touchy. “But, uh. How ‘bout some more’a those funny accident ideas, huh?” Strictly for humorous purposes, of course.
- // - // - // - // -
Checking at Razer’s had been Jak’s very last option. He wanted to knock on that door looking for his wayward redhead like he wanted to find out what a root canal was like. But Dax hadn’t turned his communicator on when he’d left. After he had tried every bar within a twenty minute walk of their garage, made sure that the warp gate to Sandover was still sealed, and called Tess to make sure that Dax hadn’t gone back to Haven in a fit of pique, at Razer’s was the only place Jak could think to look.
He vowed to keep calm, though. He wasn’t there to make a scene. He wasn’t there to murder anybody. He was there to find Daxter and take him back to base, secure his forgiveness if at all possible. Not so hard.
Unless Razer was attempting anything unseemly with Jak’s redhead. Then shit would get real so fast they would need the track’s time clocks to measure the realness of it in microseconds. Growling a bit at the thought, Jak jumped off his zoomer and strode across the well-manicured lawn.
The racer knocked firmly, weighing what he would say. This would get awkward fast if Daxter turned out not to be there after all. He highly doubted that Razer would want to strike up a conversation with him after the events of the night before. Before he could think too much into the what-ifs, though, the door swung open wide.
“Y’ello?”
Jak’s mouth fell open. “Dax?”
“Jak?” The redhead looked as surprised as Jak felt. He blinked up with wide eyes. “What’re you doin’ here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” Jak held back a laugh. Thank gods it had been so easy! Not only had Daxter been at Razer’s, he had been the one to open the damn door. Talk about convenient. “I’ve been looking all over the place for you, Dax. Listen, about what happened earlier, I—” Then he paused. “Have you been drinking?”
Daxter’s reddened ears drooped almost guiltily. “Uh… yeah?” To Jak’s surprise, Dax slunk behind the protection of the door until only one blue eye and slanted ear could be seen. “Yer mad, ain’t ya?” he asked contritely, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.
Jak blinked. “Mad? Me?”
“Yeah. ‘Bout earlier. I’m sorry I took off without tellin’ ya, Jak, really! I was jus’ so mad at Ashe I could’a kicked her in’a tits, an’ I didn’t think that’d be real cool if I did, so I got lost so I wouldn’t make a big mess out’a everything. M’sorry I made ya come lookin’ fer me. I was gonna be back home a long time ago, really, but then—”
“Whoa!” Jak finally wedged a word in edgewise when Daxter paused to take a huge breath, probably in prep for another bout of apologizing. “Pause. Time out.”
“—an’ then I had some wine with Razer an’ we were talkin’ an then you showed up an’ I’m done. Shuttin’ up.” And Daxter shut his mouth with an audible snap.
The racer grinned at that. Against all odds, Dax seemed to be in a decent mood. If palling around with Razer for a while had calmed him down this much from the level of fire-breathing irate that he had been beforehand, Jak couldn’t begin to get annoyed over it. “I’m not mad at you, Dax.”
“Fer real? ‘Cause sometimes yer all like, ‘no I ain’t mad’ but ev’rybody knows ya totally are, an’—”
Jak cut him off before he could head off on another ramble. “For real, I’m not mad. Why would I be? You’re the one who should be mad.” He couldn’t decide if Dax being more than a little tipsy was making this conversation easier or harder.
“Well, I was. But not at you. You didn’t do anythin’ wrong. Ashe kissed you. Not, y’know, the other way ‘round. An’ ya didn’t kiss her back.” Daxter leaned out from behind the door a bit more and smiled goofily. “Thanks fer not kissin’ her back, by the way.”
“Trust me, that was a one-time thing.” Jak was stepping forward with a smile, ready to bundle his one true love into the tightest hug he could manage—that wouldn’t make Dax puke on him, of course—when a scowling face popped up behind the redhead. “Whoa!” Jak balked in surprise.
“If I find bugs inside this building after you have held that door open for ten minutes, I swear I’ll have the both of you in here fumigating under the closest supervision I can muster,” Razer growled.
“Jeez, Smokey, we’re not even done makin’ up yet!” Daxter whined, smacking at the taller man over his shoulder. “Why doncha take a little hike, huh?”
“Because I clearly cannot trust the two of you alone in my living space. I have not sat down on the sofa once today, did you know that? I have sprayed it down with bleach solvent and my skin still crawls.”
Jak muffled a groan with a drag of his hand down his suddenly hot face. “Is that a not so polite way of saying we need to finish making up somewhere else?”
“How perceptive of you! While I’m sure that make up sex is the best sex, I will have to ask you to find somewhere other than my doorway to have it in. I have to pass through this arch on a daily basis, you know. I do not need those hypothetical images coming back to haunt me when I’m walking out to get the paper.”
“Trust me, leaving will not be a problem.” Jak would be more than happy to oblige. “Ready to go, Dax?”
“I can be. Lemme grab my jacket.”
As Daxter shuffled away from the door for the brighter recesses of the interior, Jak felt obliged to glance back at Razer, who seemed to be taking advantage of standing in the open doorway—he was lighting a cigarette. “Uh, hey. Thanks for, y’know.” The green-blonde cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks for keeping an eye on him. He kind of gets in trouble when he goes drinking on his own.”
Razer rolled his green eyes elegantly. Smoke spiraled lazily upward in the glow of the porch light. “Why is it I have no trouble believing that?”
Jak smiled despite himself. “Probably because he was doing it when you two first laid eyes on each other.”
“Oh?” The other racer actually looked surprised for a moment. “I suppose you are right. He was a bit shorter then, as I recall. And more… orange.” Razer snorted. “I still refuse to ask how he is able to ricochet back and forth as he seems to be more than able to. Just as I refuse to examine any further the reasons I have for putting up with the copious amounts of nonsense you and he have managed to bring into my life.”
“I think you like us,” Jak accused, flicking his ears with the slightest smirk.
“Psssssssh.”
“No, you like us or you’d try harder to kill us. Don’t deny it.”
Before Razer was given the chance to do exactly that, Daxter reintroduced himself to the party. He barreled out the door and past Razer, who nearly fumbled his cigarette in surprise. Jak barely caught his friend as the redhead tripped over his own unsteady feet and fell against him.
“Whoa, Dax, slow down! What’s the big hurry?”
“Jak Jak Jak Jak Jak!”
“What?!” Jak demanded, reflexively holding the warm, lanky bundle tighter to his chest. Daxter was looking up at him with wide, watery, lost-looking eyes. Hands clenched in the back of his racing jacket. “What’s wrong?”
“I forgot about our date!” Daxter wailed. His forehead thumped against Jak’s sternum as he dropped his head forward in self-chastisement.
Razer stubbed his cigarette against the doorjamb and shook his head sadly. “Each time I believe I have seen the extent of your romantic failings, you manage to surprise me. You are both hopeless. Both of you.”
Jak angled his ears irritably. “Oh, shut up.” Daxter was trying to burrow into the front of his jacket, where the zipper had begun to come open. “Dax, it’s okay. We don’t have a date tonight. You’re fine.”
“We do too! We made it this mornin’! It would’a been the best date ever an’ I hadda get smashed an’ forget about it. Remember, I was totally gonna fuck y—mmmph!”
“Shh, Dax,” Jak cooed, smashing his boyfriend’s freckled face tenderly against his chest. “Shhh. Everything’s fine.” And a little extra pressure, just to ensure that no stray words escaped. Shit. In the melee of the afternoon he had also managed to forget about their evening plans.
Razer’s eyes had narrowed to jewel green slits. He resembled nothing so much as an angry allicat as he batted a hand in the general direction of out of his entryway. “Words cannot describe how little of a desire I have to hear about your foiled tryst. Therefore I must implore you kindly—get the hell out.”
He didn’t have to tell them twice. Jak was already walking, Daxter trotting along at his side with the occasional stumble as he was half carried and half pulled. The door shut behind them with a bang as Razer, presumably, went back to what was left of both his wine and his evening of relaxation.
Jak eyed the zoomer uncertainly. After his searches of the bars had turned up fruitless he hadn’t counted on wrangling a drunken redhead. But, then again, the two of them had pulled off more complicated maneuvers. It helped that Dax wasn’t drunk to the point of vomit on anyone’s shoes, too.
“Okay, Dax. Here’s how this is going to work.” He looked down to make sure that he had his friend’s full attention. Daxter gazed up at him expectantly. “I’m going to drive us home. You’re going to sit behind me. And you’re going to hang onto me really, really tightly. Alright?”
Daxter smirked. “Like I need an excuse ta hug ya real tight?”
Jak grinned back and swung himself onto the ride. Dax followed, albeit a bit more slowly, and settled in behind him with little more than a wobble. Thin arms found their way around his waist. A chin settled onto his shoulder and something occurred to the racer. “We’ve never shared a zoomer like this before, have we?”
“Huh?”
“The last time we rode a zoomer together you were an ottsel,” Jak clarified. “We’ve never ridden one like this.” It was a common sight around bigger cities like Haven and Kras, two riders to a machine. But Jak had never experienced it himself before. The sensation of Daxter warm at his back, pressed together so closely, arms folded around his body, was kind of… romantic.
“Oh. Y’want me ta go ottsel then?”
“No!” Like hell. Romantic fancies aside, he was paranoid that Dax would fall off a perfectly safe seat behind him. It would be a cold day in the tropics before he willingly allowed Orange Lightning to climb all over him after an extended wine sampling party. “No. You just stay right where you are. And hang on.” They could do this. All he had to do was drive a little more… legally than usual.
- // - // - // - // -
To be continued.
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(2^nd)An: This chapter was like pulling teeth! But I guess you all can figure out what happens in the next chapter, right? Riiiiight? I know you can. Until then, y’all.
Outtakes!
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Razer: (answers the door) … I can’t believe you actually had the nerve to come back here after that stunt last night.
Dax: Hey, be nice, I didn’t have to wash this pillow.
Razer: Right then. Let me just grab my heavy duty rubber gloves and toss that onto the burnable waste pile with the rest of my sofa.
Dax: And your spatula. Don’t forget that.
Razer: What did you freaks do to my spatula?!
Dax: … :3
Razer: Mother of God, I flipped pancakes with that thing this morning!
- - - - -
Razer: So let me get this straight. You’re feeling angry and insecure because your lover was kissed by another, yes?
Dax: Right.
Razer: And your first instinct was to come here and talk it over with me, yes?
Dax: Pretty much.
Razer: And now we’re getting drunk together in an age old ceremony of male bonding, yes?
Dax: What’s your point?
Razer: Quite frankly, I don’t care how much we “bond,” or how much liquor is consumed, or how enchanting you look splayed across my kitchen table—I am not going to seduce you.
Dax: Well, damn it, why didn’t you tell me that before I put so much effort into it?!
- - - - -
Razer: Psssh, I should have known a peasant like you wouldn’t know how to open a bottle of wine. Give it here.
Dax: You actually have a wine corker on your key ring? That’s so irresponsible! What kind of message is that gonna send to kids about drinking and driving, huh?
Razer: Do you want the children to get a message about what it’s like to be stabbed through the eye with a wine corker?
Dax: Not particularly.
Razer: Then I believe you know what your mouth needs to do as soon as possible.
- - - - -
Jak: Hmm. I need a way to make sure Dax doesn’t fall off the zoomer.
Dax: How about I get on like this, and then you get on like so, and—
Jak: Oh, I think I’m following you. Okay, let’s do it.
Razer: (glances out the window) What the actual hell?! Are you idiots performing Zoomer Kama Sutra on my lawn?! Just go the fuck away, please! I am one step away from begging! *sobs*
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