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All That Glitters	By : sillyneko345 Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 7252 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the game this story is based on (Jak and Daxter). I make no money from writing this.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
AN: Summertime is the best time. Hands down. That is all.

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Revaivwra: Your English looks pretty good to me! Thank you so much for the feedback, it’s very appreciated. I’m sure I’ll be writing in the fandom for a long while, yet.

Manawolf: Thanks for the reviews! :) I’m sure Erol will be more than happy to get a little… inappropriate with his captive prince.

Kuromei: Aren’t back-stabbers a bitch?! Quickly, read on to find out how they cope!

Tainted_Emerald: I’m glad you approve of the plot twist. It had been broiling around in my mind for a while, and finally shaped itself into something coherent. Now that the plot has been appeased – for the most part – on with the love scenes!

Danielle: Thanks very much, on both counts!

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Characters: Jak, Dax, Erol, and everyone else still belong to Naughty Dog. Even when other people tamper with them.

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     Jak Mar, warrior prince of the Kingdom of Spargus, was livid. He hunched forward slightly, arms aching where they had been bound behind him and secured to the central pole of a tent in the midst of the enemy camp. Though he could feel his lip curling in a snarl, he remained silent. Any verbal outbursts from him now would simply sound infantile. Being captured this way as humiliating enough already.
   He still couldn’t believe he had been betrayed by his own soldiers. The green-blonde glared at the small group near the entrance of the large tent, conversing in low tones with Erol. The jerk had an insufferably smug smile pasted across his face that made Jak want to rip it right off—if he could move.
     One of the former Spargians noticed his hostile gaze and coughed lightly. “Don’t take it personally, Your Highness. It’s nothing against you. We just decided we’re not quite ready for a glorious death in the heat of battle just yet. There’s no way we would have been able to win against Praxis. When you can’t beat ‘em, the smart option is joining ‘em. Any fool could see that.”
     Jak growled under his breath but didn’t answer.
     The youngest of the turncoat troops, a recruit that looked to be close to the prince’s age, stepped forward nervously. He was rubbing absently at a bandaged wrist, and with a start Jak recognized the sparring partner he had trounced that morning while in the throes of a foul temper. At least the other boy had the decency to look somewhat ashamed for the blatant act of treason he had so recently been a part of. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. Things will be better this way. Now no one will have to fight at all. That’s worth something, isn’t it, even if we do have to pay tribute sometimes?”
     Jak looked at him evenly for a long moment, the blue eyes of the prince meeting the hopeful deep brown of his former subordinate. “You know… I did feel bad about your wrist.” His ears angled back disgustedly as he bit out the reply. “Did.”
     The boy seemed to wilt. He stepped back toward the remainder of the group, eyes on the packed sand of the tent floor, posture radiating apology and regret as he obviously forced himself not to bow to the prince he had sold out.
     For a moment, Jak felt a pang of sympathy. Maybe, he thought despite himself, just maybe, the other had a good reason for the choice he had made. Maybe the kid had family in Spargus. A mother. Younger siblings. What would it feel like to be caught between keeping yourself alive and the people you cared about safe, and escorting the son of your king into the hands of a possible executioner? Hadn’t Jak himself just had his back to the wall when he had felt helpless to protect Daxter, ready to try almost anything if it meant keeping the redheaded slave out of harm’s way?
     Sometimes this higher conscience thing really sucked. It was far too difficult to stay angry, recently.
     “I thank you once again, lady and gentlemen.” Erol’s smooth, satisfied tone brought Jak’s briefly wandering attention back to the matter at hand. “Rest assured you’ve made the right decision, and your confidence will be well rewarded. For tonight, please allow yourselves to be shown to your temporary quarters. When Spargus is surrendered you will of course be allowed to retrieve your belongings and reunite with any loved ones still inside the city. We’re not heartless, after all, the Baron and I. I have faith they’ll all soon see the light as you did. Now, then—good evening.”
     As the soldiers filed out into the night with varying degrees of cheer, Jak caught a glimpse through the open tent flaps of troops completely covered in bright red armor, stationed on either side of the enclosure. Guards. Of course. The resisting forces’ prince was a valuable prize that must be closely watched. He was brooding on his chances of an escape that night when a diminutive figure covered from head to ankle in a thick cloak swept in, barely behind the last of the exiting soldiers.
     “Erol, you idiot! Just what do you think you’re doing, pulling something like that?”
     Jak’s ears perked. Either that was a prepubescent boy under there, or…
     “Ah, there you are, my dear.” Far from looking displeased at the insult, the redheaded commander simply smiled. The expression practically oozed self-righteousness. “I was wondering where you’d wandered off too. Your daddy would be so upset with me if anything were to happen to you, you know.”
     “This was not what we agreed on!” With the flick of a wrist, the hood was jerked back.
     Jak felt his mouth drop open as he stared. The one under the cloak, the one who had approached the city at Erol’s side just a few short hours ago, was a young woman. A very attractive young woman, at that. Her deep red hair hung just past her shoulders in neat dreadlocks, while her long, graceful ears and the perfect oval of her face bore the tattoos Jak was beginning to understand were standard for the Haven forces—much as they had been so long ago under his father’s rule, as the lines still inked in Torn’s face attested to. The prince watched the girl’s ruby-painted lips with interest as they twisted into a grimace of anger.
     “That was the most cowardly act I’ve ever seen from a soldier of Haven, let alone a leader like you! We agreed to approach the rulers of Spargus and offer our terms before beginning a confrontation, and you go and betray the truce right off the bat—with their prince, no less!”
     “Ashelin, please. You wound me. Betrayal? I did no such thing. It was his own soldiers who did the betraying. Isn’t that right, Jak?”
     Jak huffed indignantly, but resolutely did not rise to the bait.
     “With your encouragement!” The young woman, Ashelin, huffed in what sounded like utter disbelief. “I just can’t believe you. Don’t you have any honor at all? Any pride? Defeating a famed warrior in combat is one thing, but—”
     Erol had seized her cheek before she could finish, pinching it roughly. His voice dropped to a condescending croon. “Now, now. One of the great lessons life will teach you when you gain a bit more age and experience, my dear, is that some opportunities are simply too good to pass up.”
     The resulting slap knocked his metal mask crooked. There was fire in her blue eyes, a hiss of deepest loathing behind her words. “Don’t. You ever. Touch my face again.”
     Jak smiled grimly. For all that she was obviously his enemy, she seemed to be half Erol’s enemy, too. Suddenly he rather liked this girl. Go on, give him another. And put some power behind this one.
     A small frown and a surreptitious rub to the red patch on one cheek was the only sign of Erol’s displeasure. He carried on as if the episode had never happened, to Jak’s mild disappointment. “Trust me for once, little she-hellion. The Spargians are terrified as brainless Flut Fluts in a windstorm. I strolled in, dropped a sympathetic word or two, and offered a solution. You can see how little encouragement they actually needed.”
     “Indeed.” Still looking far from pleased, Ashelin finally turned her attention to the object of their disagreement. Her ears lifted in undeniable curiosity.
     Jak tried to look both aloof and dignified under her scrutiny. Obviously she was a young lady of some importance, or she wouldn’t be in a position to bitch-slap the leader of the Haven military with impunity. Surely she wasn’t his wife. Perhaps a high-bred noblewoman under his charge? It was possible that she might have some say in the diplomatics of the invasion—Jak might be able to find a reasonable go-between in her.
     “Well. Now that you have him, what do you propose to do with him?” Ashelin smirked, clearly meaning to taunt her companion. “I’d bet he could take you down in a fair match. Ten to one.”
     Completely ignoring her needling, Erol turned to smile down at the captive prince. It was a highly unpleasant smile, made all the more so by the flickering shadows in the lantern-lit tent. His eyes held a strange gleam that made Jak wish more than ever his hands were free to fend off the attack he couldn’t help but feel would come. “Why, use him, of course. What better bargaining chip could you possibly ask for than the only heir to the throne?”
     “I’m still here, you know,” Jak pointed out gruffly. He might have sworn not to speak to them, but this was getting ridiculous. He wasn’t stupid, or deaf. How could they possibly feel comfortable openly discussing their strategies in his presence, even if they were confident he wouldn’t be able to escape?
     The redheaded man quirked a brow. “Of course you are, young prince. I didn’t think you had left us so soon. And you do in fact remain a part of this, too. I was wondering how long you were going to keep quiet. Do feel free to chime in at any time.”
     “Yeah, alright, I’ll remember that.” Jak glared daggers, set his ears back, and resolved once again not to cooperate one iota—even if Ashelin was hiding a tiny smile at the whole exchange.
     “Erol. Do you really think that kind of bargaining will work?” Smile gone as quickly as it had come, she sounded both skeptical and angry. “Not only is that a completely cowardly trick on your part, but it may not even have the effect you’re hoping for. Life is harsh. In the grand scheme of things, the life of one isn’t worth the freedom of an entire kingdom. How do you know the king will cooperate, even if we do have the prince’s fate in our hands?”
     “I have my suspicions. Even if his warrior’s heart isn’t softened by the predicament of his own flesh and blood, it’s highly doubtful that Damas would willingly allow any lasting harm to come to the last carrier of the bloodline of Mar.” Erol sighed, almost happily. A sigh of satisfaction, of carefully laid plans carried to fruition. “Don’t you worry your pretty head. Tomorrow morning we’ll go for another little walk back to the city and strike up a deal, you and Prince Jak and I. Isn’t that right, Jak?”
     Jak reflexively jerked away from the strangely friendly pat that was unexpectedly applied to his shoulder. He was their enemy, for gods’ sakes. Why the amiability? Maybe this Erol was a bit unbalanced in the head. Or the desert was getting to him. People did strange things when they began to dehydrate.
     “And what happens if we’re refused flat?”
     “Then we’ll simply have to take more… forceful measures.” His tone was downright disturbing, making Jak shudder once more against the ropes that held him. Like the guy wouldn’t mind taking ‘more forceful measures’ one bit. “I have a hunch they’ll be more willing to compromise with the screams of their beloved prince ringing in their ears.”
     Jak’s eyes widened minutely. Oh, hell.
     “Fine. As you say. Commander.” The sarcasm was palpable as Ashelin readjusted her cloak and stalked back to the entrance of the tent. Cold wind and blown sand seeped in through the opening as she held back the thick fabric. “I’ll be in my tent for the night. And I won’t be disturbed.” It was a thinly veiled threat.
     “As you wish, my lady. Pleasant dreams.”
     “Highly unlikely.” Halfway through the motions of pulling up her hood, her eyes landed on Jak. He stared back, meeting her gaze. For a moment they simply regarded one another, before the unexpected occurred. She dropped a very stiff bow. “Your Highness. My apologies, on behalf of myself and every other decent and honorable warrior of Haven. Good evening.”
     With a swish of the tent flap, she was gone, and Jak was left alone with his captor.
     Erol watched her go with mild disinterest. “Please, don’t mind her, Jak. She’s the Baron’s daughter—his only child. She takes after her father a bit too much, I’m afraid. Has more fire than she knows what to do with. Ah, the folly of youth.” He said it almost fondly. “By the way, Jak. Did you know that I met you once, when you were a child? I held you, even.”
     “Uh… I really don’t think we’ve ever met before.” Talk about awkward. The man was standing just beside him, now. Jak didn’t like it. For a moment he wondered if this was how Daxter had felt as a slave, every day, day in and day out—at someone else’s mercy. The thought made him swallow harder than usual.
     Oblivious to the green-blonde’s discomfort, Erol continued as if they were just having a friendly chat, and one of them wasn’t tied immobile to a pole. “Oh, I don’t expect you’d remember it. You were only a very small child. Three, perhaps four years old. There was a military parade through the city that day. I was just a young recruit myself, stationed along the road.”
     Unable to do much otherwise, Jak listened curiously.
     “They had you up on a leaper with one of Damas’ attendants, so the people could see their little prince. Suddenly something spooked the thing and it bucked. Off you went, almost right at my feet. I expected you to cry, but you didn’t make a sound. Just got to your feet, dusted yourself off, and looked up at me.”
     “I hear I didn’t have much to say as a kid.”
     The redhead chuckled, and Jak almost wanted to believe the man was friendly at heart. Almost. “Is that so? Well, if nothing else, you were certainly sweet. I picked you up to hand you back up to your attendant, and you patted my head like I was doing a good job. An adorable boy.”
     “Uh… thanks?”
     Silence fell but for the wind whispering over the canvas above their heads. Erol was standing closer than ever, so much so that the fabric of his pants was brushing Jak’s elbow where he sat. The prince straightened his back as much as he could against the support pole behind him, formulating a scathing remark about personal space. Before he could make his mouth form the words, though, there was a gloved hand cupping his face, fingers ghosting under his goatee.
     “Whoa! Do not touch me!” Jak pulled away with an angry jerk, beyond indignant. Going around pawing at someone’s face was just plain rude, let alone doing so to royalty. The very nerve of this guy! What the prince wasn’t prepared for was the intruding hand coming back undeterred to grip his chin like a vice. “Hey!”
     “Feisty thing, aren’t you?” Erol looked pleased. A predator closing in on prey that was already snared. “I’d be absolutely heartbroken if you weren’t.”
     Jak snarled as his head was slammed back against the pole, surprisingly strong fingers gripping his jaw in a way sure to leave bruises. “What is it you want from me, Erol? There must be better warriors than me out there for you to recruit—and if I was only leverage for getting Spargus to agree to your Baron’s terms, you wouldn’t be here baiting me! Why?”
     “You could call it puppy love, I suppose. A bit of a long-standing infatuation.” The voice was almost a purr. Jak’s level of nervous jumped a notch as he stared up into those oddly calculating blue eyes. “I never thought I’d have the chance to see my little prince again. And then Praxis turned his attention to tying up the loose ends with his old rival once and for all. Reports from travelers who had been through Spargus began to come in. You can imagine my delight when I heard that the striking little boy I remembered was all grown up, and the fiercest fighter in the wastelands. You might say I have a bit of a… fascination with strength.”
     “Good for you. Now let go of my face before I—”
     “Now, now, Your Highness.” There was an unmistakable chuckle behind the title. “Do recall that you’re my guest, and behave yourself.” Erol’s hand mirrored its owner’s surety by falling abruptly to Jak’s head scarf and slipping inside to trail, like some hideous spider, down his bare neck.
     Jak reacted without thinking. Quick as lightning he doubled up in his chair and kicked out with both legs, hard as he could. The pole at his back gave him balance and a brace, and before Erol could react he was on his back half way across the tent.
     “I said, don’t touch me!”
     With his enemy gasping for breath and slowly getting up from the ground, the prince felt a surge of satisfaction. That satisfaction was fleeting, however. It took Jak a moment to realize that, while Erol was indeed wheezing for air, he was also laughing.
     “Oh, Jak…” The panted, laughter-laden words sent a cold chill down Jak’s spine as the tattooed commander regained his feet and his composure, straightening his now sandy clothing and righting the lopsided mask atop his head. “It’s going to be so much fun… teaching you your place.”
     Once again Jak went silent, biting back the shouts of anger that bubbled in his chest. He wouldn’t encourage the man. He just huffed softly in the back of his throat as Erol strode casually to the flap of the tent.
     “Well, Jak, it’s been delightful. However, I do need my beauty rest—and I encourage you to get yours, as well. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. Sleep well, my young warrior.” Half way out, the man paused and looked back. “Oh, by the way. There will, of course, be guards out here all night. I’d highly advise against trying anything foolish. I’ll not be held responsible for what they might do to keep you in line.”
     Abruptly Jak was left alone. He went still, wondering whether there was some trick afoot and Erol might return. Nothing. A lone moth fluttered about the lantern on a rickety wooden table. Outside, the quiet of a desert night was broken only by the occasional low voice of a soldier or the patter of booted footsteps on shifting sand.
     “Okay, Jak. Time to get the hell out of here.”
     He could see the sword that had been taken from him almost at the very moment of his capture, lying on the table near the lantern. Though it seemed far too convenient for his weapon to have been left in the tent with him, and could very well be some sort of test set up for him, he had to try. Anything was better than waiting quietly for morning and whatever twisted plans lay in store for him when the sun rose.
     Setting his wrists together as tightly as he could, Jak began to twist them in the binding ropes.

- // - // - // - // -

     What had to be an hour later, Jak was exhausted. His arms felt heavy, his wrists raw despite the thick leather gloves that covered his arms to the elbow. Whoever the soldier was who had tied that damned rope, he was good.
     Jak shook his head and fought off the tiny but growing urge to rest, make his move in the morning when they came to collect him. No. There would be no chance of escape in broad daylight in the middle of the camp, surrounded by awake and aware enemy troops. He had to get out of there tonight.
     “If you don’t want to be paraded in front of your own city and possibly torture-molested in full view of everyone that lives in it, you will move,” he muttered darkly to himself. The reminder worked. Though it hurt, he once again began to struggle against the nearly hopeless knots.
     Then, a small noise caught his attention and made him stop cold. His ears perked, listening intently. Something was crawling around the parameter of the tent. Warily, Jak watched the spot where wall met ground nearest to where he thought the noise was coming from, at the back of the tent. Though it was unlikely in the middle of a crowded camp, there was always the possibility that a small metal head was looking for shelter in the cold of the night. And there he was trussed up and unable to defend himself if whatever was tenaciously seeking entrance decided to take a bite out of his leg.
     Just when Jak had decided that being eaten alive was better than calling for help and alerting the guards to his pitiful escape attempt, there was a light, wispy rustling sound. The canvas bowed upward between two anchoring stakes, and suddenly the prince found himself staring into a somewhat surprised orange- and yellow-furred face.
     “Daxter!” He just remembered to whisper and not shout as his friend wriggled and squirmed the rest of the way inside, pulling a small bundle after him. “I don’t believe—what are you doing here?”
     “Why, I do believe I’m savin’ yer butt, pal.” Even in the almost non-existent light, the smirk was impossible to miss.
     “I told you to go back to my rooms and hide!”
     “I didn’t listen. Obviously. Lemme tell ya, I got a story about that. But first, we gotta get you out’a here.” The ottsel didn’t waste time. He dug straight into the bundle of cloth he had drug in, and Jak blinked in surprise as the last vestiges of lantern light gleamed off a small blade.
     “How did you find me? And where did you get that?” he whispered as Daxter crept up behind him and set about applying the dagger to the ropes around his friend’s pained arms, sawing industriously.
     “I just followed my nose. I can smell a lot better when I look like this, an’ you smell different than everybody in this place. It wasn’t hard. And I snuck up on a group of soldiers asleep around their fire an’ slipped off with the knife. No sweat.”
     Jak’s first impulse was to scold quietly, despite the fact that Daxter was, indeed, saving his hide. “That is so dangerous. What if they’d woken up and caught you?”
     “Then I would’a been in deep trouble. Which is what we’re both gonna be in if we don’t split this place quick. The night’s half gone, if ya didn’t know.” The ottsel’s voice was a soft murmur, barely more noticeable than a nighttime breeze, and hopefully undetectable to those stationed outside. “Think you could take on two guards by yerself, big guy?”
     “Not a problem.” This was neither the time nor place to bring it up, but Jak felt the need to assure his friend that under normal circumstances he would probably have been able to hold his own against a flat dozen soldiers bent on betrayal—had he not been trusting enough to let them near his unguarded back with a knife. If he could get the drop on them before they could use their weapons, getting the better of just two enemies would be downright easy. He wasn’t touted among the best warriors of Spargus for nothing.
     “We need a way out’a camp, too. I don’t think we can sneak you out as easy as I snuck in. Any ideas?”
     Jak sighed in relief as Daxter’s sawing with the knife paid off and he felt the bindings on his arms go slack. He relaxed them into a more natural position, allowing the blood to begin flowing normally and feeling to return to his hands. “Yeah, actually, I do.”
     The ottsel looked up at him expectantly as he got to his feet and quietly, swiftly, reclaimed his sword and cloak. “Great! What’s the plan, big guy?”
     The prince smirked knowingly, and turned to face the entrance of the tent. “Guards!” he suddenly shouted, voice startling in the silence. “Hey! There’s some kind of weird animal in here! Get it out!”
    “Wha?!” Daxter balked hilariously and shot under the table as cursing from outside almost instantly heralded the entrance of one of the guards, shaking his head sleepily and shoving his helmet back into place.
     “What’s the noise in here, prisoner?” he demanded—a scant moment before Jak stepped from the shadows and rammed the pommel of his sword into the side of the guard’s helm with enough force to dent the red metal. With a thud and a clunk of armor he crumpled to the floor.
     There was a rustle as the flap was once again thrown back and the second guard peered into the dim interior. “What the hell is going on in there?”
     Unfortunately for guard number two, he had taken his helmet off at his post, and wouldn’t find out what was going on for a few more hours. Jak’s fist connected with his unprotected face in beautiful efficiency of motion, and a moment later he was down, almost right on top of his fallen companion.
     “Wow!” Daxter squeaked, looking out from under the table. “That was pretty good.”
     “Thanks. But that was nothing, really.” Jak smiled, pleased. His anger at the whole situation was far from assuaged, but knocking two careless sentries senseless was a good place to start. Bending, he quickly began to pull off the smaller of the two’s armor. “Come on, Dax. Time to go.”

- // - // - // - // -

     A few minutes later, Jak stepped boldly out of the tent covered from head to toe in stolen armor. Daxter had stretched out across his shoulders and lay still as a warm stone with the prince’s cloak draped over the top of him. Now they just had to play it cool.
     Taking a deep breath, Jak strode out into the camp in the direction of the mountains. There was no way they could sneak back to the city gate that night, while it was undoubtedly being monitored, but they did have a fighting chance of slipping away into the surrounding dessert. It would be possible for them to find a place to lay low until morning, when attention might be elsewhere.
     As Jak moved away from the cover of the tent in his Haven soldier disguise, he was hailed almost immediately. A female soldier with tattoos concentrated on her cheeks and ears called to him from the far side of a dying fire, sounding tired but alert. “What was all that noise? Is everything all right with the prisoner?”
     “It’s fine,” Jak answered smoothly. “One of those insect metal heads got into the tent. Easy to kill. Nothing to worry about. There seem to be a lot of them out here.”
     “Gods, tell me about it.” Obviously sensing nothing amiss, the woman threw herself back down on her bed roll with a snort of disgust. “And here I thought the back streets of Haven were infested. This damnable desert is crawling with the disgusting things.”
     Jak chuckled and continued to walk. Slow and steady, completely confident in body language. So far, so good. The sky was still star-spackled dark, showing no hint of the coming dawn, and only a few more rows of tents separated them from the freedom of the open dunes.
     Very softly, the green-blonde tilted his head in order to whisper to Daxter. “There are caves not far from here, under the foundations of the city that stood before Spargus. I think we’ll be able to hide there for the night.”
     “Good idea.” Jak could feel the ottsel nodding on his shoulder. “I know that place. It—oh, crud!” Daxter immediately buttoned it as several Haven troops materialized out of the darkness near the last barricade of tents.
     Jak’s back straightened and he continued to advance as if he hadn’t seen the opposition. Daxter was quaking under cover of his cloak, but they weren’t in trouble yet.
     What was probably the highest in rank approached them, hand on the hilt of his weapon. “Halt, soldier. Where do you think you’re going at this time of night?”
     “We’re so busted,” Dax murmured against the prince’s neck. He cringed and pressed his furry face into the warm skin. “Nice knowin’ ya, pal. My last regret is not gettin’ the chance ta mess around with ya again.”
     Jak, under his pilfered helmet, didn’t bat an eye. “Where else would I be going? There aren’t any latrines dug yet.”
     The soldiers relaxed instantly, chuckling among themselves. Their leader dropped his sword casually back into its sheath. “Hey, no problem. But be careful out there, you hear? Don’t let anything nasty get the drop on you while it’s all hanging lose. Gods know what’s out there. This place is just full of surprises.”
     “You got it.” Jak saluted and walked right past them, fighting down a laugh. If only they had a clue. He hated to think about the punishments that were going to fly the next morning for letting him walk out of captivity all but uncontested. Well… never mind. He actually kind of liked thinking about it.
     Walking into the wastelands at night triggered an immediate surge of wariness in the prince, but that couldn’t be helped. The danger out here wasn’t so bad compared to the danger that was steadily growing farther away behind them. At least now he had his sword and was free to fight whatever might rise from the sands to challenge him. And, of course, now he had Daxter.
     As soon as they were out of earshot of the parameter guards, the ottsel let out a puff of hot breath against Jak’s skin. He felt nearly limp with relief as he lay along the ridge of a strong shoulder. “Am I the only one who thinks that was waaay too close?”
     Jak chuckled, reaching up to scratch under Daxter’s chin when his head popped out from under the cover of the cloak. “Don’t worry about it, Dax. I could have handled it. We’re safe now.” Relatively speaking.
     “Yeah, safe until they find your guard friends takin’ a forced nap back in the tent. Or a metal head that ain’t imaginary pops out fer a visit.” A critical eye swept the darkened landscape spread out before them.
     Finding his way through the wind-blown dunes with careful footsteps, following a ready made map of stars in the direction of the ruins, Jak hadn’t thought to inquire about ottsel night vision. “Can you see anything?”
     “Everything looks clear fer now. I’ll still be happier when we find somewhere hidden ta camp fer the night.”
     Jak agreed, and picked up the pace.
     In less than an hour they had reached the outlying boulders that marked the edge of the ruins. There had been no pursuit from the Haven camp and no surprises lurking in the shadows around them, something Jak was infinitely grateful for. He felt more alert than ever with Daxter’s animal form perched on his shoulder. Despite his friend’s assurances to the contrary, he didn’t want to have to test the little guy’s skill at self defense. As far as Jak was concerned, Daxter’s safety was entirely in his hands.
     Creeping cautiously through the mess of fallen structures, buildings and statues and crumbled walls half buried in sand alike, the green-blonde finally spotted a likely place to spend the night. A hollow had been formed where what had once been a wall had collapsed against the low side of a derelict building. The upside down V that the fallen remains created would be perfect—small enough to stay hidden in, big enough to move about in.
     Jak snuck toward it warily, the only clue of its whereabouts a slice of deeper dark against the standard blackness of the night. “What about in there, Dax?” he whispered with a nod toward the suggested space.
     “If nothin’ else is already spendin’ the night in it, it looks great.” There was a pensive silence. “Hang on. I’ll check it out.” And the ottsel jumped from Jak’s shoulder before he could react.
     “Daxter, get back here!” Jak hissed, but it was too late. Dax was already slinking toward the hole.
      “Don’t worry. I got this covered.” Very slowly, he snuck to the opening.
     Jak could dimly make out Daxter’s movements by following the patches of lighter yellow fur. He hoped to gods his friend knew what he was doing. All he needed was something to pop out of the hole and grab the little guy. That would just make the prince’s already fantastic night. His mental complaints were silenced immediately as a soft yellow glow suddenly lit the night.
     Holding a small sphere of pulsing light forward in one hand, Daxter used it to peer cautiously into the depths of the possible shelter. In a moment he looked back at Jak with a relieved smile. “It’s okay. Nothin’ in there but a spider or two.”
     Jak wasted no time getting to Daxter’s side. By that time, the light the ottsel held was fading. There was no mistaking what it was, though. Yellow eco. Yellow eco that had definitely not been there a few seconds prior. With one quick glance for himself to be sure the coast was clear, Jak nudged his smaller friend into the hidey hole. It was time for some serious question and answer time. He ducked inside behind Daxter, dropping to a crouch when the improvised ceiling proved too low for him to stand up straight.
    “Wow, big guy, ya sure can pick ‘em.” Daxter poked into the back of the shelter, which had been blocked with fallen debris. The only way into it was the way they had come. Easily protected. “Nice job. We should be pretty safe here until morning.”
     “Yeah.”
     Jak hesitated a moment before sitting down well away from the entrance and beginning to shuck the stolen armor in the dark. He didn’t need to see to get it off, and the stuff was damned uncomfortable. He was glad that Spargus had no real armor for their military, every man or woman patching together their own gear out of miscellaneous bits and pieces as they saw fit and adapting it to their specific needs.
     As the prince took off the pieces of red metal, starting with the annoying helmet and setting it carefully aside to avoid any telltale clangs, he tried to watch what Daxter was doing. It was almost impossible to see his hand in front of his face, let alone follow the movements of a slinky, furtive critter like an ottsel.
     “Daxter?”
     There was a loud sneeze from the back of their small shelter. Fine dust sifted down from the ceiling, more probably puffing up from the cool floor when they moved. “Sheesh, I think that one almost blew my brain out my nose. You say somethin’, Jak?”
     The green-blonde chuckled. “Let’s talk. I want to talk.”
     An almost smug little snort met the request, and Jak suddenly felt fur brush his elbow. He discarded the chest plate of his armor just as a small, warm heaviness plopped itself into his lap. Dax draped there like any other animal wanting a petting and devoid of human sense as Jak nudged the pile of gear away with one foot and settled his back against the vertical wall of the shelter.
     “Alright. Let’s talk. What’s on yer mind, handsome?”
     The casual words thrown out so unexpectedly caught Jak unawares, and he flushed slightly. He supposed that he should take it as a compliment that Daxter, who was born a member of an entirely different species, could consider him handsome. Of course, Jak thought his friend’s ottsel shape was pretty darn cute, too. He cleared his throat. “Um. Yeah. Well, I couldn’t help but wonder. A few minutes ago, you had some yellow eco.”
     “Uh-huh.” Daxter nodded in his lap. “It’s best fer seein’ in the dark, bar actual fire. S’what all the eco lanterns at the palace are made with, right?”
     “Yeah, you’re right, but where did the stuff come from? It wasn’t there when we were walking up,” Jak stressed. “I would have seen it too. I didn’t think this place even had any eco vents. Dad would have had Spargus using them, if that was the case.” He didn’t mention that Daxter had been holding the ball of energy in the palm of his hand. Holding. Not channeling. Something that shouldn’t be possible.
     The ottsel actually laughed, until Jak clapped a hand over his mouth. They still had to be quiet, here. “Heh, sorry.” Sheepishly, Dax pulled the hand away. “There’s really no good way ta explain ottsels and eco. No offense, Jak, but I’m not sure a human could understand how it works.”
     “Try me.”
     “Well, I myself don’t really know exactly how it happens, but our bodies are just better eco conductors than yours are. We’re drawn to it and it’s drawn ta us. It takes a lot for it ta affect us in the bad way, but we can handle its good affects better than humans.”
     “So if I ran through blue eco I’d be faster for a few minutes,” Jak mused. “But you’d be even faster than me?”
     “And it’d last longer on me, too. Heck, sometimes we can even create eco out’a the energy in the air and earth around us. But that’s like me turnin’ human and back—takes a lot’a energy out of us, too. Takes lots’a practice.”
     Jak slowly petted down Daxter’s back, trying to take in what he had been told. There were creatures that could not only control eco, but create the sparkly power out of thin air. And one of those creatures was sitting in his lap, trying to explain the concept. It was mind boggling.
     “Oooh…” Dax shifted across Jak’s crossed legs, making soft, content noises as the prince’s hands roamed aimlessly over him. “I think I’ll keep you around fer a while, Jak. That’s niiice.”
     Jak huffed, the darkness hiding a smile. “Don’t get too comfortable. As soon as it’s light enough to see, we’re sneaking in the back of the city. Erol will be occupied out front, and Torn’s not dumb enough to leave the rear walls unmanned. Someone will see us and let us in. There’s a small gate back there, I think. Near the well pipes. Dad made sure there was an alternate route out of the city, if it’s really needed.”
     At the mention of Damas, Daxter snorted disdainfully. “Y’know, Jak, I really do not like that guy.”
     “He’s difficult to like. Believe me, I understand.”
     “No, really, Jak. I literally ran into the man when I first decided ta come help ya.” The hackles under Jak’s petting hand began to prickle. “O’course I still looked human, right then. He an’ that old nut job sage were pretty surprised when I bolted out’a that alley and tripped into ‘em.”
     Jak stiffened. “Really? They didn’t try to grab you?”
     “That’s the part that pisses me off! Samos tried ta yell for the guards when I ran, but yer dad just said ‘leave it, he’s not important right now.’ Me, not important? I’m the guy who’s gonna save yer son’s ass, here, an’ I’m not important?! Lot’a nerve that guy has, Jak. Glad you don’t take after him much.”
     The green-blonde chuckled helplessly. “Oh, Dax.” He crooked his hand to scratch under his friend’s upturned chin. “No matter what else happens, I guess I’ll still have you, huh?”
     “Yeah.” The ottsel-turned-redhead-turned-ottsel nudged back against his hand, clearly pleased that Jak had finally accepted that fact. “Don’t worry about that, pal. I won’t let anything happen to ya. Even if Spargus winds up like this place, I’ll make sure yer okay.”
     Jak thought about the ruins they sat in, how the desert wind moaned mournfully through the fallen structures late at night. Sometimes it could be heard clear from the palace. The thought of his own city meeting the same fate was sobering, indeed. “Thanks for saying so. I’ll do my best to keep you safe, too.”
     “I bet ya will, big guy.” A small hand patted his leg appeasingly. “Hopefully what happens won’t be too bad.”
     “Mm-hmm.” Jak relaxed back against the wall, still a bit pensive. He watched the stars twinkle in a small patch of night sky visible through the opening of their hiding place. “Hey, Dax. You said you’ve heard of these ruins before.”
     “Yeah, a long time ago. I wasn’t, ah… probably wasn’t payin’ as much attention as I should’a been, let’s say.”
     “There’s a story the Wastelanders tell about this place,” Jak said. “They say that a long time ago, it was the most powerful city in this part of the world. You could travel for days in any direction and not find a kingdom anywhere near powerful enough to compare. But the people of the kingdom lost focus. They stopped being just and right. They started to invade other kingdoms to build their own power. They even forgot to respect the Precursors.”
     “I remember that part, now. Never smart. And didn’t just one guy leave the place right before the Precursors destroyed it?”
     Jak nodded. “I think that’s how the story goes. The last righteous person left the city of his own free will, and to reward him the Precursors made him… I don’t know. Godlike, or something. And one day his descendants are supposed to come back and rebuild, and the kingdom will prosper and be as great as it was then.” The prince smiled. “I had almost forgotten that story. Sig told it to me when I was little, when we were still living out of tents and trying to build a city in the middle of this damn desert.”
     “Yeah. You humans and yer crazy stories.”
     There was amusement behind the jibe, so Jak felt justified in only tickling the languid ball of fur in his arms a little bit. “Hey, watch it. You’re the one who decided to hang out with a human.”
     Daxter yelped and laughed, but luckily they managed to keep it on the quiet side. Soon enough Jak tightened his hold, cuddling Dax up in his arms when a cold wind found its way around the wall. The hours just before morning were the darkest and coldest. When first light showed, they would make their move.
     “Cold?” Dax asked as Jak shivered and pulled his cloak tighter around them.
     “A little. You?”
     “Not really. I got a built-in coat.” The ottsel nestled closer to Jak’s stomach anyway, perhaps in sympathy for his larger, less furry companion. “I gotta say, though. It’s kinda nice sittin’ in yer lap like this.”
     The green-blonde smiled, a little wryly. Now Daxter would deign to sit in his lap, when he was two feet tall and fuzzy. “Still dead set against being my pet?” he chuckled.
     “Well, Jak, let’s be frank. I quite possibly saved yer life tonight. That’s a pretty big thing. Ya kinda owe me, huh? The way I see it, yer the one who should be my pet!”
     Jak barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. “What is this I’m hearing? I released you from bondage, you little ingrate! That’s not worth anything?”
     “Hey, ya shouldn’t want repaid for seein’ justice done. Right, gallant prince?”
     Sighing theatrically, Jak gave up the argument and settled for stroking the soft yellow fur of his friend’s side. Despite the stress of the evening and the crisis they would still be facing tomorrow, he knew that he was much calmer for Daxter’s continued presence. What would his state of mind be if Dax had actually done as he was told and ran for the hills? Never mind the fact that Jak would probably still be captive in Erol’s clutches, he would have been worried sick over his friend’s unknown fate. Even if it were more dangerous for Daxter to be with him now, he was grudgingly glad for it.
     “Better get some sleep while we can,” Jak finally said. “It’ll be morning before too long. We’ll have to go quick and quiet.”
     “I see someone’s adrenaline is wearing off.” Dax grinned. “Yer probably right. Who knows when we’ll get ta sleep next.”
     “I’ll wake you when it’s time to get moving.” The prince petted his friend fondly. It was too bad his idyllic life had been disrupted by war, but he still had the brat that mattered to him most.
     Daxter shifted in his lap. “That’s great. But, uh, there’s one thing we gotta do before we go sleepy-by.”
     “What’s that?”
     “Cover yer eyes.”
     Jak was more than a little confused when Daxter’s small hands grabbed his own and urged them up toward his face. “Why?”
     “Just do it, big guy. You’ll see.”
     With a small sigh the prince complied. It reminded him of the time he had tried to teach Daxter a clapping game years and years ago, when Dax had been a timid, freshly bonded slave. After quite a long while and much trial and error, they had managed to coordinate hands and arms and rhythms. The giggling had never stopped. Maybe Dax had something like that in mind now.
     “Now, don’t peek ‘til I tell ya.”
     “Alright. Say when.”
     It turned out that Daxter didn’t need to say when. Jak knew exactly when. He knew when a sudden surge of energy seemed to explode in his lap, standing every hair on his body on end and searing his closed eyes with streaks of warm color. He yelped in shock as a wave of heat washed over him. The small weight of an ottsel in his lap multiplied several times over. Darkness returned in a rush.
     “Okay,” Daxter’s cheerful voice rang out. “When!”
     Jak opened his eyes to a grinning redhead, the traces of eco still crackling at the ends of his hair and ears illuminating his cheeky features. “…It’s going to take me forever to get used to that.”
     Dax laughed mischievously and leaned forward against the prince’s chest. “Plenty of time fer that, big guy. First, just gimme a kiss goodnight.”
     Jak reached forward immediately to enfold his newly returned redhead in his arms. After the night from hell he had just been through, he couldn’t think of anything he might possibly appreciate more than Daxter turning back into the physical form he apparently found more vulnerable, just for him. Jak smiled. “There are Precursors, and they are merciful.”
     Daxter chuckled somewhat breathlessly as he was hugged tight. “Sure w—they are, pal. Sure they are.”
     Though the pale skin under his hands was more than molestable, Jak settled for pulling his friend closer to his chest and nuzzling the side of his neck. He was tired. Daxter was probably tired. They were in a half buried hole in the sand in the middle of a bunch of ruins in the wastelands. Not the best time or place to get too intimate. His thoughts were confirmed even more when Daxter shivered in his lap; not from enjoyment, but from the chill of the desert night.
     “You’re the one who’s cold now, huh?”
     “A little. You’ll just hafta warm me up, I guess.”
     Jak had shrugged halfway out of his cloak before coaxing lips could find his in the darkness. Even through the very tantalizing slip and slide of an amateur but enthusiastic tongue against his own, he managed to wrestle the cloak off completely and drape it over Daxter’s bare shoulders. Of course the former slave would be cold, now that he no longer had fur.
     “Why did you become human again now?” Jak asked. “You knew you didn’t have any clothes to put on.”
     Daxter’s hands roamed across Jak’s shoulders as he straddled the green-blonde’s lap, snuggling into Jak and creating a little pocket of warmth with the cloak wrapped around both of them. Long fingers found the nape of Jak’s neck and kneaded soothingly, almost enough to make the prince purr in pleasure. “Well, we were gonna, uh… ya said we could… the sex thing? Huh? You said. Ya did.”
     “Yeah, I did say that.” Jak smiled against Daxter’s neck. This eagerness from his formerly reticent friend was a dream come true, and made him more than want to pander to the redhead’s desires, but there were plenty of reasons they shouldn’t indulge at the moment. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait? What we did before was sex, too, so don’t feel like there’s some big goal to reach or something. And this isn’t the nicest place to do stuff like that.”
     “Doesn’t matter. Yer here, so it’s a great place.” The stubborn tone matched Daxter’s attitude perfectly. It was plain he had a will to rival the strength of the collar that had so recently held him.
     Jak sucked in a breath as Daxter shifted on his thighs. “We don’t have any oil, you know. I can’t be inside you tonight. It would hurt you too much.”
     “Inside?” There was a definite note of wonder behind the stifled groan as Daxter began to rock gently. “How’s that happen? You mean be in my mouth, like you did me the other night?”
     Jak’s own mouth fell open even as his eyes fluttered closed. “If… if that’s what you want…” His reason was quickly retreating before a double assault of love and lust. If Dax really wanted some action that badly, far be it for the prince to say no. There were less intensive but no less pleasurable things they could do that didn’t involve penetration, as he had shown the redhead but a few nights ago.
     “Show me,” Daxter demanded, breath hot against Jak’s mouth for just a moment before they were kissing again, even more enthusiastically than before.
     A quick stab of amusement at the audacity of a former slave demanding anything of a prince made Jak chuckle lightly against Daxter’s mouth, but he let the thought go at once. Dax was maybe the one person Jak could see himself listening to without a fight on a regular basis. Just because he loved the spunky little brat so much. Power and lineage had nothing to do with it.
     Feeling nimble fingers delving into the front of his pants, Jak leaned back fully against the low stone wall and let Daxter do what he would. Curiosity was a healthy thing, after all, and it sure beat the mindless panic the redhead had hitherto displayed in this area.
     It makes sense, though, he thought again. Now that he’s in control of his life again he’s bolder. And it sounds like he doesn’t even know what happens between two men when they get together like this. That would be scary as hell, not knowing anything about sex other than someone is about to force you into it and you’ve heard that it hurts. A warm palm around his exposed shaft startled Jak from his sympathetic thoughts and he let out a surprised hiss.
     “Ya make me feel so weird, Jak.” Daxter’s face was pressed against the side of the prince’s neck, obviously basking in their clinging closeness. “Never felt like this before, ever. Thought ya were crazy when ya wanted this with me. Now yer drivin’ me crazy, too.”
     Jak chuckled, raising his hips into the touch and running his own hands up and down Daxter’s back under the cloak. “What, you never felt the urge to get with a pretty ottsel before you got caught and brought to the palace?”
     “Not on yer life, bub.”
     “Ah. I guess you were pretty young then. Hadn’t thought about it yet?”
     “Ottsels don’t do this kinda stuff, big guy. At any age.”
     “They don’t?” That was odd. “Ottsels don’t, uh, mate?” It was hard to think while being fondled, but he gave it his best shot. “How do they make little ottsels, then?”
     “It’s… it’s complicated.” The redhead shuddered under Jak’s roaming hands, letting slip a breathy moan. He was smack on top of Jak’s lap by now, squirming and rocking restlessly, seeking full contact between them whether he consciously meant to or not.
     Making an executive decision, Jak dropped the conversation and gathered his friend up tighter. Daxter gasped as their erections brushed, hands clenching around the muscles of the prince’s upper arms. It took one smooth roll to topple them both to the ground. Jak took the brunt of the landing, pulling Dax on top of himself at once. The cloak draped over the smaller boy, pooling around them as they lay together.
     “Want to try something different?” Jak asked.
     “Does different involve my mouth on your—”
     “If you’re sure, help yourself.”
     Even in the dark he could pick up on the happy perk of the redhead’s ears, imagine the wide grin that would have to come along with it. He felt Daxter pull back and try to scoot backward to investigate lower. It was easy to catch him by the shoulders and hold him in place for a moment.
     “Hey!”

     “Wait a second, Dax. Turn around.”
     “Turn around? Why? I can reach from down there fine.”
     Jak smiled, though he knew the other probably couldn’t see it. “Just do it, okay? I want to do something back to you.”
     “At the same time?” It was dawning on Daxter what he meant, and the incredulous but curious tone seemed to mean he was at least open to the idea.
    “Why not? I’ve never done this before, but it seems like a good idea. So…” Jak poked at one slim leg rather playfully, and a moment later was whapped in the face with the cloak as Dax eagerly tried to comply. “Careful, huh? Don’t knee me in the teeth, there.”
     With only a little more maneuvering, they had settled into a position that seemed likely to work. Jak could feel slightly cold hands on his thighs sliding up to pull his pants down even more for better access. Jak himself let his hands grip sleek hips, his goatee tickling against pale skin at the inside of Daxter’s leg. The renewal of a tentative hold on his shaft made him groan quietly.
     Daxter whimpered faintly as warm breath washed over his most delicate skin. “Jak, what do I do? Is there somethin’… I mean, should I l-lick it first, or…?”
     “You can. Just do whatever you want,” Jak urged. “Try not to use your teeth.”
     There was a huff of breath between his legs, as if Daxter meant to say that not biting was common sense. Then a quick, wary swipe of tongue against the very tip of his arousal had Jak melting back into the cold, hard ground, completely at ease. Impending war? What war? The cute, quirky mouth that he loved was wrapping around him with more and more enthusiasm. What could matter more than that?
     Leaning up, Jak grabbed Daxter by his narrow hips and held them in place. He couldn’t have the little guy squirming around like that if he was going to contribute to this. The redhead gasped around the hardness in his mouth, a startled move that made Jak arch his back lightly and almost purr. “You’re good at that,” he whispered huskily, before taking Daxter’s equally hard arousal against his tongue.
     “Mmm—gyaah!” Maybe it should have come as no surprise that Daxter opened his mouth to squeal. His hands clenched on Jak’s muscled thighs, no doubt leaving the crescent marks of fingernails digging into the prince’s skin. “Jak, that’s—! Oh, shit, Jak, this is the greatest thing I’ve ever felt, I swear!”
     Jak chuckled around the shaft in his mouth, which earned him another squeal and a thrash he was easily able to keep in check with his hold on the redhead. He had known the other night that Daxter would be yelling his name if he had just been able. With a languid suck, he pulled back. “Shh, Dax. We have to keep quiet, remember? They could be looking for us.”
     “I will, I will!” Dax whispered frantically, squirming shamelessly against his larger friend. “Just please don’t stop doin’ that! I’m gonna—that thing that happened last time, that’s gonna happen. I want it ta happen again, Jak, it felt sooo good I thought I was dyin’ fer a second!”
     It took Jak a moment to comprehend what Daxter was referring to, but when he did a slightly evil, more-than-slightly smug smile flitted to his lips. He turned his head, nipping and kissing teasingly at the pale, tender skin of the former slave’s inner thighs. “Oh, I see. You want to come, don’t you?”
     “Come? Come where?”
     “Just… come. That’s what it’s called when you feel that way. If you’ve ever heard people talk about how great sex… ah, making love is, that’s a big reason why. It’s one of the really great parts about being human.” Clearly, if Daxter hadn’t known what an orgasm was before two evenings ago, he had been a deprived little weasel and needed to be taught the error of his species’ ways. Immediately. Right now. By Jak.
     “Oh. Oh,” Dax panted, somewhat helplessly. “Yeah, that’s it. Please, big guy. That’s what I want!”
     Jak hummed, lips trailing lightly up the other’s length. “I see. Well, then, let’s get back to business.” With that Jak slowly moved one hand down to grip himself, taking care to tickle Daxter lightly on the way to let the other boy know what he was up to. Taking himself in hand, he lifted his hips until his tip brushed the redhead’s chin.
     Daxter jumped, almost guiltily, it seemed, and lowered his head at once to take Jak back into his mouth. He lapped and sucked with renewed vigor as Jak held it in place for him, as if apologizing for his lapse of attention. Jak felt a rush of warmth in his chest. It was so erotic to be putting himself in Daxter’s mouth like this—to be allowed to do it. Daxter’s eagerness to be taught, his willingness to let Jak lead now that their bond of friendship, and perhaps more, had marched through its trial by fire without blinking, made the experience even more rewarding.
     For his part, Jak began to move the redhead’s pelvis up and down in a steady rhythm. It wasn’t hard to create and keep a rhythm and stay in control of it given how slight was Daxter’s weight. Even if Dax did buck, Jak could keep himself from being accidentally choked. Time to give his friend what he wanted—what they both wanted—before the night slipped by completely.
     As expected, Daxter’s body tightened up like a spring. His knees ground into the dirt on either side of the green-blonde’s shoulders as he spread his legs wider, giving Jak as much room as possible and trying to somehow get deeper into his mouth. The muffled whimpers and moans around Jak’s cock were constant. He didn’t stop licking and sucking, though, even when Jak’s hand retreated and left him to work on his own. Jak had another plan for that hand.
     Skimming his hands up Daxter’s sides, Jak cupped them around the redhead’s pale, firm behind and squeezed gently. Sometime in the not so distant future he would like to become better acquainted with the area, pending that his life wasn’t snuffed in the coming few days of combat. It seemed like a good idea to see if Daxter might be able to get comfortable with him touching it.
     “Comfortable” seemed to be an understatement. When the pressure of Jak’s hold pushed him deeper into the prince’s mouth Daxter made a high-pitched sound in his throat, clearly trying his hardest not to thrash atop his friend. In moments Jak was doing his best to swallow without coughing up the redhead’s release, a task made extremely difficult by the fact that Daxter had soldiered through his own pleasure and wrapped one hand firmly around the base of Jak’s erection. In moments, Jak followed—luckily able to breathe and moan to his heart’s content.
     “Damn,” Jak laughed weakly when it was all through.
     Daxter was panting slightly, still draped over him. With a groan, the smaller boy swung a leg over Jak and managed to squirm around until they were face to face again. “Hey, Jak?” he whispered. “My knees hurt.”
     “That’s all you have to say? We just had amazing sex and your knees hurt?” Nevertheless, Jak reached out to pull Dax to him with a chuckle. “That was great, you little brat. You’re a natural at this.”
     “Yeah?” The redhead snuggled in at once, sprawled over Jak in a tangle of sweaty arms with the cloak pulled haphazardly over them. The sound of him licking at his lips and fingers was obvious in the darkness. “Y’know, I was worried I wouldn’t like how you taste.”
     “Oh? And how do I taste?”

     “Like a guy. Like a human guy. Which ain’t so bad, considering.”
     Now officially exhausted, Jak didn’t have the energy to offer even a playful cuff for the sassy comment. He simply smiled, hugging Daxter closer against the returning chill of the early morning.
     Dax took the hint, putting his head on the prince’s shoulder and petting his chest and arm gently. “Yeah, go ahead an’ sleep, pal. Sorry I kept ya up. Literally. I’ll wake ya before sunrise.”
     “Are you sure?”
     “Yeah. Just relax. Rest up, yer gonna need it. Tomorrow’s gonna be big.”
     “Alright,” Jak murmured. “Wake me if anything happens, alright?”
     “I promise. Night, big guy.”
     Outside their hideout, the stars grew dim as a small ottsel-turned-human kept faithful watch over his best friend, thinking his own private thoughts. Dawn approached slowly but surely, bringing with it a day that neither of them would ever forget.

- // - // - // - // -

To be concluded…

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
(2^nd) AN: You might know I’d finish this chapter on a busy day. I do this to myself for a reason. There must be a reason. I just don’t know what it is.

Outtakes!

- // - // - // - // -

Ashelin: Erol, I can’t believe how dishonorable you are!

Jak: And I can’t believe how hot you are. Wow!

Ashelin: (pause) Okay, you know what? Go ahead and rape him. See if I care.

Jak: Oh God.

Erol: Score!

- // - // - // - // -

Daxter: So, karma kinda sucks, huh?

Jak: What do you mean?

Daxter: I got tied up an’ almost raped. You’re tied up an’ gonna get raped. It all evens out.

Jak: Are you going to help me or just stand there?! *sob*

- // - // - // - // -

Guard: Here, nameless soldier I’ve never seen in the ranks before now sneaking off suspiciously into the desert at night—take this spray-on metal head repellent.

Jak: Uh, thanks. But I don’t think it’ll work.

Guard: Yeah, well, you’ll be thanking me when one tries to bite off your ding-dong!

- // - // - // - // -

Damas: So, Torn, I hear you’re the one who agreed to let my son meet the enemy without consulting me first.

Torn: No I’m not!

Damas: And now he’s been captured, in danger of horrible deaths and tortures.

Torn: No he isn’t! Jak’s fine! In fact, he’s right here!

Sig: (raises a brow)

Damas: … that’s a stuffed dummy.

Torn: But doesn’t it look just like him?

Damas: I’ll admit it’s a fair image, but that’s beside the point, Commander.

Torn: This one will be even better than the old Jak, trust me. It won’t give you any lip, for one.

Damas: Hmm...

Sig: He has a point, Your Highness.

Damas: Indeed. Well, I’m sold! Come on, dummy-son, let’s go lead the troops.

Torn: Yes! Sooo not getting fired. *victory dance*

- // - // - // - // -
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All That Glitters