Hello again! Yes, this story is incredibly old, but I suddenly got the desire to finish up this chapter, which has been sitting on my computer for over a year. And yes, I was a dirty dirty liar when I said that about the update…ahem. Sorry, and I really appreciate all of you who took their time to read and review. Thanks, this is for you!

The dim afternoon sky hung low over Haven, a heavy grey blanket tossed over the city. The dark clouds had begun to drizzle; zoomer traffic roared steadily over the pattering of rain in the gutters. A few soggy wrappers lay limply in the wet street.

The tattooed man waited at the stoplight, watching absentmindedly as the raindrops spattered on the hood of the blue Hellkat, then beaded up and rolled down the side of the smooth metal. He inhaled deeply, lost in thought; the cold musty air numbed his skin, but he took no notice.

At first, Torn had been fuming with rage….but now he felt a deep sense of confusion. He had expected to be pleased to hear of Jak and Ashelin breaking up; instead, he felt vaguely threatened. Sure, that blond idiot was tremendously undeserving of the glory that was Ashelin (in fact, a flea on the ass of a crocadog was more worthy than him), yet Torn was strangely unsatisfied.

Why did Jak, the selfish prick, have to go marching back over to Keira's apartment like that? The girl, however silly she was, didn't deserve to put up with the moron.

'But more importantly, why do I even care??' Torn thought. 'She's none of my business. I don't wanna deal with anyone's drama.'

He recalled when he had met her on that stupid fence. She had been so stubborn, so maddeningly defiant, with that obnoxious green hair and those weird magenta pants. Any other citizen would have obeyed him, but she had rudely refused, much to his irritation.

Then she had been at the Naughty Ottsel, with her weepy eyes, scratchy voice, and quarrelsome attitude…

And then he had taken her to Dead Town, and it was even more weepiness. Torn despised weepy girls.

So what was it about her? What was appealing about Keira?

She was clearly nothing like Ashelin. She didn't have the red-haired governor's irresistibly badass personality, an enticingly leather-clad body, or that sexy, plump-lipped smirk. She didn't have huge breasts, tall boots, or a voice that purred.

But she did have something. Torn couldn't place a finger on it, but he knew it was there. It was in the charming way she smiled and pouted, in her wide green eyes, in her rebellious attitude.

He sighed. What was happening to him?

Since Ashelin, Torn had decided he wanted nothing more to do with women. Ever. He had been unpleasantly shocked by how much the loss of her had actually hurt him, and she had left him feeling humiliatingly vulnerable. Nothing could be worth that awful experience.

Yet now, just weeks later, he was already thinking about one again.

"Ridiculous," he muttered under his breath, rain dripping down his furrowed brow.

It was late in the afternoon, and the light showers had developed into a full-blown storm. Wind shrieked through the tree outside the window, whipping it around mercilessly. The downpour pounded at the glass with a steady rhythm, forming rivulets that slid down in continuous streams. A bolt of thunder crashed in the distance, reverberating in the governor's office.

Ashelin threw her pen down in frustration, unable to concentrate on her stack of paperwork. It rattled loudly as it rolled along her wooden desk and clattered to the floor. She ground her teeth, unwilling to get up and retrieve it.

All day, the governor's blood had been boiling with thoughts of Jak. Or rather, Jak's rejection of her. In all her years, no man had ever turned down Ashelin Praxis. Men were hers, when she wanted, if she wanted. And they were done when she was done.

And then came Jak—straight to her, as all men predictably did. But all of a sudden, he decided that they were through. Ashelin had been caught unawares, and her pride could not tolerate that.

Even worse, he had lied to her about that mechanic. The same one that Torn had been hanging around lately.

Torn. She couldn't make a decision about him. They had drifted apart during the past few months or so, and besides, they were never officially together anyway. They had danced with each other that one time, and there was the obvious attraction between them, but Ashelin had never committed herself to the stoic commander. Yet she became highly annoyed when she saw Torn sitting with that mechanic at the bar.

Ashelin pursed her cherry lips, swiping a lock of red hair away from her tattooed forehead. She knew that the green-haired girl had resented her the moment they met; the governor would have had to be stupid to not notice. And Ashelin didn't care much for her either. If someone had a problem with her, then that was just too bad.

'That girl doesn't know how Torn is, anyway,' Ashelin thought darkly. 'He doesn't let just anyone into his personal life. But she'll find that out soon enough.'

The redhead drummed her fingers, her hard nails clacking against the smooth wooden desk. If Torn wanted to come back to her, he was perfectly welcome. She wouldn't worry about it, though. He'd return eventually, like he always did.

"JAAAK!!!" Daxter screeched in exasperation, flinging his furry arms into the air. "That's not how you bring a lady back to you!"

The blond man sighed noisily, slamming his thick glass mug down onto the counter. "Yeah, Daxter?! Then how was I supposed to do it?!" he snapped.

The ottsel shook his head sadly, orange ears flopping side to side. "Man, do I gotta teach you everything? Well buddy, lucky for you, the Handsome Orange Sex God is here to pass on a few tips!" He puffed his fluffy chest out proudly.

Jak turned his head away, frowning at the other side of the bar. A few people were tucked away in the yakkow hide booths, chatting quietly and drinking as they waited for the storm to pass. Aside from them, the Naughty Ottsel was deserted.

"First of all," Daxter announced loudly, "you've gotta have more charm. Chicks just love a smooth guy; smooooth like my glossy fur!" He flexed an arm, pausing to stroke the fuzzy bicep.

Jak rolled his eyes. He was not in the mood for his friend's obnoxious "advice".

"Second, ya gotta be genuinely sorry--"

"--I was genuinely sorry--"

"--but not desperate! The babes don't like it when you're desperate!"

Jak ignored him, and took another swig of his beer.

"Jak!" exclaimed Daxter indignantly, crossing his skinny arms. "Are you listening?! This advice is pure gold! It's not often that the Babe Master himself shares his secrets!"

"…"

"I'll tell you what buddy, you're gonna thank me for this later. So as I was saying, you hafta have patience and persistence. Keep trying, but don't be annoying! That's the surest way to victory with a girl like Keira!"

"Don't be annoying, huh?" Jak repeated, slightly amused.

Daxter tilted his nose up. "HEY, I'm trying to help you out here! But if you don't wanna take my advice, then suit yourself, pal!" Offended, he hopped off the counter and began rummaging through a box of various bottles.

The blond-haired man grinned slightly. "C'mon, Dax, I was just kidding."

"Yeah yeah," the ottsel grumbled, grabbing a purple flask and leaping back onto the bar top. "Serves ya right anyway!" he declared, yanking out the cork with a loud pop. "You're not slick enough to get away with managing two ladies, especially when one is the governor! Even I, the great Orange Lightning, couldn't handle something like that!"

Jak raised his hands defensively. "I wasn't two-timing!" he insisted.

Daxter glugged noisily from the bottle, then wiped his mouth with the back of his paw. "Whatever ya say, Jak…whateeevvver ya say."

Creasing his brow, Jak ignored his companion's unconvinced comment. "I think I'm going to try talking to her again this evening. Maybe she'll have calmed down by then."

"Yeah, maybe! Good luck, pal!" Daxter resumed guzzling the strange fluid. "Say Jak, I'm not so sure if purple hair suits you…it's a bit too, shall we say, 'out there'. Perhaps that's why Keira rejected you…I do wonder…"

"Huh?!" replied Jak, bewildered. "Purple hair…?" Realization dawned on him. "Give me that," he sighed, snatching away Daxter's bottle.

"Hey hey HEY! Give it back, Jak!! Jaaaak!!!"

The rain splattered down, heavy and relentless. Frigid air penetrated the commander's armor, causing a shiver to run through his body. "Damn rainstorm," he growled, his warm breath fogging up his visor. The evening streets were devoid of people; everyone had taken shelter inside to escape the icy winds and drenching downpour. But not Torn. Patrol duty was patrol duty, rain or shine.

The fountains surrounding the racing district were overflowing with the excess liquid, and water cascaded over the sides like miniature waterfalls. Freezing gusts thrashed the shrubbery around violently.

Due to an oversight in the vehicle department, the Freedom League Hellkats had not been equipped with retractable roofs, unlike some of the old Krimzon Guard ones. This was normally not a problem, having it be that Haven rarely saw precipitation as extreme as the current storm. However, the weather was unusually bad today, and the upholstery fabric was soaked, as well as the unfortunate commander sitting inside.

"Damn rain!" he grumbled again miserably, the fabric of his clothes sopping wet beneath his plates of armor. "At least it won't be getting much worse."

KSHPSHHKRKPINGKRKKKK

"What the--!"

The Hellkat's engine sputtered to a halt, and the large vehicle sank like a rock. It struck the rain-slicked pavement nose-end first and skidded to a halt with a grinding crunch.

Shocked, Torn clambered out of the vehicle to examine the damage. It appeared fine, except for a wide dent and scrape in the blue paint. He attempted to start the ignition again; it spluttered pitifully, then died down with a wheezy whine. A vein throbbed in Torn's temple.

"Argh, I can't take this anymore!!" he snarled, striking the unresponsive Hellkat with his steel-capped boot.

"Stupid-" kick

"Piece-" kick

"Of-" kick

"Useless-" kick

"Junk!" kick

He took a deep breath, kneading his tattooed brow with a gloved hand. He supposed that if the Hellkat had to break down, the racing sector was a good place to do so…and if he was lucky, there might be an available mechanic to lend him a hand.

Torn sprinted through the torrents of rain until he entered the shelter of the stadium outskirts. He paced down the dark corridor, wringing the water out his gloves as he went. It seemed eerily abandoned, and the clunking of his boots reverberated loudly over the pattering of the rain outside. Posters of Jak, Haven's beloved undefeated racing champion, were pasted neatly along the walls. Torn's lip curled.

He turned the corner and was met with a flood of yellow light from an open garage. The scraping sound of metal against metal echoed throughout the room.

"Hey," he called out.

The mechanic was crouched over a strange contraption, apparently shaving off excess metal. Bright sparks flew outwards, creating shimmering reflections in the dark screen of her welding mask. She stopped what she was doing and removed her mask.

"Yeah, if you don't mind I'm a little—Torn?!" she exclaimed, her green eyes wide with astonishment.

"Huh—Keira?" Torn took a step back in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, quickly patting down her disarrayed aqua hair.

"What are you doing here?" he echoed. It hadn't occurred to him that Keira would be here, though he did recall her mentioning an occupation as a mechanic… "Didn't you just get back into your apartment this morning?"

He looked around at the garage. The workbenches were cluttered with zoomers in need of repair, and various vehicle parts and pieces of scrap metal were strewn about the cement floor. A green moth-eaten curtain, patched up and ragged, was pushed to the side.

Keira shrugged. "Yeah, but work is work, right? I've got a lot of repairs to do!" she said, gesturing at the broken zoomers lined up in the back. She looked curiously at Torn, who was drenched from head to foot and had already created a rather large puddle on the garage floor. "Got caught in the storm, huh?" she remarked.

Torn grunted, heavy beads of water rolling off the tips of his ears.

"So what happened? Did your zoomer break down or something?" she asked.

"Yeah, right outside the stadium, conveniently enough. I hate to ask, but could you come out and take a look at it?"

Keira beamed. "Of course! It's the least I could do for you, after all. Just let me grab an umbrella real quick…"

Torn led her outside into the pouring rain. Keira unfurled her huge, battered umbrella; Torn was quite taller than her, so she raised it up to accommodate him. This allowed the slanted rain to blow beneath the cover and soak her, but she pretended not to notice. The tattooed man was simultaneously annoyed and appreciative.

"Don't worry about me, I'm already wet," he told her, stepping out from under the umbrella.

The green-haired girl glanced up at him in surprise. "There's no need to be so manly!" she teased, rolling her eyes.

Torn hmphed as she extended the umbrella over him again. "I don't need it!" he snapped, pushing it away weakly. Yet somehow, the damn umbrella found it's way over his head again. The girl was frustratingly persistent.

He sighed in resignation, muttering under his breath as they made their way to the broken-down Hellkat. Torn felt awkward walking so close; the heat from her arm warmed him each time it brushed against his side.

"Let's see here…" Keira kneeled in front of the Hellkat and opened the hood. Coils of steam puffed up into the frosty air.

"…Okay, it looks like the problem is a lack of compression…there's a hole in the cylinder head due to natural corrosion, but if I replace the gasket it should work fine!"

Torn nodded. She could be talking in another language for all he understood, but those last words sounded good to him. If he couldn't get his ride fixed, he'd be screwed.

Together, they loaded the Hellkat onto a large dolly and wheeled it into Keira's garage. The mechanic was stronger than she looked, and Torn had no choice but to grudgingly accept her help.

Back in the garage, Keira was unscrewing the engine parts while Torn seated himself on a rickety metal bench.

"Could you pass me those valve pliers?" she asked. "It's on the shelf right next to you."

Torn turned to the cabinet and handed her the tool. However, his attention had been caught by the rows of sparkling trophies lining the upper compartment. They glimmered proudly, all gold and silver cups and figurines.

"You won all these?" he inquired, eyebrows raised.

Keira looked up. "Oh, those! Yeah, some of them. But Jak also gave me all of his…" She trailed off, stopping what she was doing. Torn waited apprehensively as she frowned at the floor, apparently lost in thought.

He cleared his throat, if only to break the uneasy silence. "He wasn't hassling you this morning, was he?"

The mechanic glanced at him quickly, then smiled a little sadly. "No, uh, not really. He just wanted to talk, I guess."

'He just wanted to talk…' she thought, suddenly feeling a faint pang of guilt. But it didn't last long; she shook her head. 'What am I feeling bad for?! He was the one who hurt me, not the other way around!'

"Listen Keira. I know it's not exactly my place to be saying this, but if I were you, I wouldn't trust him. A guy who goes around with other men's women is a liar, no two ways about it. So that's all I'm gonna say. Think about it, will you?"

Keira twisted her body, her pale shoulder facing Torn. "I know, but…but Jak…he's different, okay!" she retorted, averting her eyes. What was she defending Jak for, anyway? She had nothing to prove to the tattooed man. "I don't think he really meant to hurt me. I mean, we're over, but…I don't want to hate him."

Torn shrugged. "I never said you had to hate him," he stated gruffly. Great, just great. Now she was probably going to get all teary-eyed again. Why did he bring up Jak in the first place?! "You know what? Just forget it," he voiced throatily, peeved. Absolutely nowhere, that's where trying to give considerate advice got him!

The aqua-haired girl gave a barely audible sigh. "Ah, I'm sorry for getting upset about it…I know you mean well," she told him hesitantly. The commander crossed his arms. "…Thanks, Torn."

Torn only grunted. The garage fell silent once again, so Keira resumed working on the engine.

"So," she began after a few minutes pause between them. "How have things been with Ashelin? Now that she and Jak are over and all..."

Torn scowled. "What do you mean, 'how have things been with Ashelin'?! Was something supposed to have happened? 'Cuz I missed the memo," he growled defensively.

"Okay, geez! Someone sure istouchy!" she snapped back, glowering at him sideways through her green bangs. Why was he always so unbearably cranky?

"Yeah yeah, speak for yourself," he muttered sourly.

Keira flushed, her knuckles clenching over the metal pliers. "I thought you, Torn, of all people, would understand."

Torn stared at her: back to him, shoulders hunched, hand gripping the edge of the Hellkat. He shook his head. He would never understand women! Ever…

He stood up, exhaling in defeat.

Keira's slender ears pricked at the soft clicks of boots against cement. So he was walking away…fine! Good riddance! Who needs a crabby jerk hanging around like that, ruining her concentration?

Suddenly, a large, calloused hand placed itself on her smooth shoulder, causing her to startle. "I'm sorry," came the quiet, husky voice.

Keira froze, unsure of what to do. She swallowed.

"I…uh, I'm sorry too, Torn."

Though he could be a hard guy to deal with, she could tell he wasn't all that bad inside. After all, he had helped her out in a way no one had ever bothered to before in this unfriendly city. She had been so bitter lately, making it twice as hard to connect with an emotionally distant person like Torn. And though she couldn't say exactly what for, she felt as though she owed him an apology.

Torn was aghast to feel blood rising up the sides of his tattooed neck. He quickly removed his hand, letting it drop limply to his side. What was he doing?! His feet had just carried him over here, and before he knew it, those embarrassingly soft words had slipped from his mouth… He had been an ass, yeah, sure, whatever, but his apology had sounded so…well, apologetic.

The mechanic turned her face towards him, lips curling into a forgiving smile. Her eyes were open, genuine. He was relieved to feel the awkward tension dissipate, and he unconsciously smiled back.

Keira was fascinated. She had never seen Torn do that before. Yet now, right before her, the grim and moody line curved not into an irritated frown, but an actual smile. The murky gloom of the ink shifted upwards, and his brown eyes were heavy with a slow warmth.

"You should smile more, you know that?"

His mouth self-consciously slumped back into its regular position. He snorted and sat back down, the rusted bench creaking under his weight.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Keira turned back to the cruiser and laughed, a light, clear sound. In spite of himself, Torn was pleased.

The water pounded on the roof and sloshed down the walls. The light bulb hummed gently, yellow light reflecting off the gleaming metal parts. Keira decided to fix several other problems she had discovered, and she explained them to him absentmindedly as she worked. Torn sprawled on the bench comfortably as he dried, listening to the sound of her voice and occasionally reaching over to hand a tool. It was strangely peaceful, being in this cluttered garage with the odd mechanic.

Jak was numb. A cloying sensation was stewing in his chest.

He had returned to her place early that evening, only to be met with a silent door and a missing zoomer. Knowing the energetic mechanic, she had gone right back to her garage. He smiled. 'Typical Keira,' he mused.

Despite the relentless cascade of thick raindrops, Jak made the drive to the stadium. He refused to wait any longer. Any more time, and the situation might slip irretrievably from his grasp. Keira had been emotional, dramatic, devastated. Honestly, he was taken aback. But they needed to talk, sooner rather than later.

The howling wind battered his jacket as he dismounted his zoomer, and soaked leaves flopped beneath his sodden shoes. He hunched over protectively, hurrying to the stadium entrance. The wet cloth that was wrapped around the soles of his boots stifled his footsteps as he entered the cement hallway. Huge posters of his face smirked at him from the walls, and the blond averted his eyes in uneasiness.

Suddenly, Jak came to a halt at the sound of muffled voices. It was most definitely Keira, as well as a gravelly visitor. His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed suspiciously. What would it take to get Keira by herself? What the hell was Torn doing with her, again? It just wasn't normal. Something was going on, and Jak needed to know what.

He quieted his breathing and listened stilly.

"…But Jak also gave me all of his…"

Yeah. He remembered those races. He could still see the way she glanced down shyly at first, her eyes brightening in pride and admiration for him. His gloved fingers tensed as he continued to listen apprehensively.

"He wasn't hassling you this morning, was he?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. 'Of course I wasn't, mind your own damn business, Torn! Who does this guy think he is?"

"No, uh, not really. He just wanted to talk, I guess."

He felt slight relief at this statement, but was still overwhelmingly annoyed.

"…A guy who goes around with other men's women is a liar, no two ways about it."

WHAT. He cursed inaudibly under his breath, fuming. Torn, that lowlife scum. Jak could see what he was doing all too clearly now. As some sort of underhanded revenge maneuver for the affair with Ashelin, the Freedom League commander was attempting to convince Keira into despising the hero. Of course Torn had no actual romantic interest in her. He was merely manipulating her friendly, innocent personality for his own selfish means.

'Damn you, Torn! If you're so mad over Ashelin, why don't you come and face me like a man? Don't bring Keira into this, you dirty bastard!'

Fury began to simmer in his bones, and a dark voice awakened.

'A liar. Haha, a liar. He called you a liar.'

'I'm not a liar. None of that is true!'

'Look at that face. Now that's the face of a liar, isn't it?'

Jak turned to the larger-than-life poster beside him. His handsome, cocky visage smirked back from the paper. Suddenly, it looked eerily similar to that of another champion racer, one whose sneering mug was pasted on those same walls not too long ago. The thought immediately made him shudder in revulsion.

'Don't be like that. What's so wrong about being the bad guy, anyway? It gets you what you want, and that's all that matters in the end. Just accept it, you're a liar. And if Torn is in your way, let me out and I'll rip him down.'

'NO. Stop it. Right now.'

'We can have Keira, too. Why are you getting so upset, Jak?'

With immense difficulty, the man gritted his teeth and suppressed the agonizing whisper. He would not acknowledge the demon.

"…but Jak…he's different, okay!"

The blond shifted restlessly. A spark of hope flickered inside of him. She wasn't just listening to Torn's lies.

"I don't think he really meant to hurt me. I mean, we're over, but…I don't want to hate him."

'I didn't mean to hurt you. We're not over. Just give me a chance. One chance for one mistake.'

"I never said you had to hate him."

'Liar, that's exactly what you're trying to do!"

"I know you mean well… Thanks, Torn."

'He doesn't, Keira.'

Then tensions spiked, and Jak froze as he heard them snap at each other. There was a sudden pause.

…

Why were they thanking each other? What the hell was going on in there?! His eyes narrowed further and his ears strained painfully.

"You should smile more, you know that?"

She laughed. He had forgotten the sound.

That was it. Jak had enough. He couldn't keep skulking around in the corridor eavesdropping, unable to interfere. But he couldn't bring himself to confront them either. His muscles ached. His head buzzed. He felt sick.

'I can't deal with this right now. Whatever's going on, I'll put an end to it. This is all wrong.'

Tomorrow. That was his decision as he stepped back into the storming city. As the man mounted his rain-slicked zoomer, he heard it again.

'Don't worry. I'll take back what's ours, and give back a little punishment.'

Jak shook his head vigorously, beads of water flying from his yellow-green locks. The last thing he needed right now was to lose control of the dark eco. He would earn back Keira, and the monster would stay inside.

I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know where you want to see this story go. I know Jak's an ass right now, but I'll try to make him better. Thanks for reading, and reviews are really appreciated!