Terrors of the Wastes - Gift fic for Otana <3
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OTANA! ♥
Title: Terrors of the Wastes
Fandom: Jak and Daxter
Rating: G
The hot desert sand whispered and shifted in a breeze that did little to cool the air. Jak squinted, but nothing moved except for the shimmers of mirage in the distance. The stillness was a lie, though, and he knew it. Beneath his skin, his Dark self stirred, but he ruthlessly pushed it back. No. Now wasn't the time. He took a step forward, gun in his hands.
"Jak..."
"Shh." Jak held up his hand, silencing his best friend without looking at him. He turned his head left, then right, listening. Daxter frowned - but he also knew when it was not a good time to talk.
Carefully, cautiously, he slipped between two boulders, his every sense alert for even the slightest hint of movement. The wind whistled softly, making him pause. No. Nothing but the wind. He continued on, barely making a sound himself. Damn it. Where was it...?
Kreee!
Faster than the eye could blink, Jak snapped his gun up and left off a shot that blasted the Metal Head out of the air. It hit the ground with a thud, sand spraying everywhere. Jak narrowed his eyes as it continued to twitch.
Boom!
Problem solved.
"Yeah, that's right!" Daxter crowed from Jak's shoulder. "We sure showed that nasty sucker!" Now that the Metal Head was dead there was no reason to keep quiet.
The corner of Jak's mouth crooked upward. "'We'?" he echoed teasingly.
The ottsel grinned back. "Sure," he agreed. "I'll let you take some of the credit, even though I did all the hard work."
The crooked smile turned into an outright smirk, but Jak didn't bother to argue. Instead he stooped to pick up the Metal Head's gem, then started retracing his steps back to where he'd parked the dune buggy.
"Yup," Daxter rambled on. "Daxter and Jak, the Terrors of the Wastes! Metal Heads everywhere will quiver with fear at even the mention of our names! 'Run for your lives!' they'll scream! 'It's the Demolition Duo!' Oh yeah, baby, you an' me, Jak? We make a good team. Isn't that right?"
Jak let his friend's babble wash over him, the outrageous claims familiar and comfortable to him. Again, he didn't answer, but his smile was enough.
It had always been enough.
"Come on," he said at last. "Let's head back." Heat and sand swirled around them again, and it felt good. The sun and open air and his friend's chatter in his ear...
Yeah. We make a really good team.
Title: Terrors of the Wastes
Fandom: Jak and Daxter
Rating: G
The hot desert sand whispered and shifted in a breeze that did little to cool the air. Jak squinted, but nothing moved except for the shimmers of mirage in the distance. The stillness was a lie, though, and he knew it. Beneath his skin, his Dark self stirred, but he ruthlessly pushed it back. No. Now wasn't the time. He took a step forward, gun in his hands.
"Jak..."
"Shh." Jak held up his hand, silencing his best friend without looking at him. He turned his head left, then right, listening. Daxter frowned - but he also knew when it was not a good time to talk.
Carefully, cautiously, he slipped between two boulders, his every sense alert for even the slightest hint of movement. The wind whistled softly, making him pause. No. Nothing but the wind. He continued on, barely making a sound himself. Damn it. Where was it...?
Kreee!
Faster than the eye could blink, Jak snapped his gun up and left off a shot that blasted the Metal Head out of the air. It hit the ground with a thud, sand spraying everywhere. Jak narrowed his eyes as it continued to twitch.
Boom!
Problem solved.
"Yeah, that's right!" Daxter crowed from Jak's shoulder. "We sure showed that nasty sucker!" Now that the Metal Head was dead there was no reason to keep quiet.
The corner of Jak's mouth crooked upward. "'We'?" he echoed teasingly.
The ottsel grinned back. "Sure," he agreed. "I'll let you take some of the credit, even though I did all the hard work."
The crooked smile turned into an outright smirk, but Jak didn't bother to argue. Instead he stooped to pick up the Metal Head's gem, then started retracing his steps back to where he'd parked the dune buggy.
"Yup," Daxter rambled on. "Daxter and Jak, the Terrors of the Wastes! Metal Heads everywhere will quiver with fear at even the mention of our names! 'Run for your lives!' they'll scream! 'It's the Demolition Duo!' Oh yeah, baby, you an' me, Jak? We make a good team. Isn't that right?"
Jak let his friend's babble wash over him, the outrageous claims familiar and comfortable to him. Again, he didn't answer, but his smile was enough.
It had always been enough.
"Come on," he said at last. "Let's head back." Heat and sand swirled around them again, and it felt good. The sun and open air and his friend's chatter in his ear...
Yeah. We make a really good team.