I don't know how this happened, so don't ask, but I've suddenly developed an obsession with Torn. XD I'm sorry, Razer, I still love youuuuu!

This takes place post-Jak 3 and pre-Jak X.

Self-Defense

"Okay, we'll start by assuming your arms have been forcefully immobilized by your assailant."

The moment Keira's body stiffened at Torn's slightest gesture, he reprimanded her.

"Stay relaxed. If someone is going to attack you, your body will not be tensed up like that. You won't always have the opportunity to anticipate their move and react to it."

"Sorry."

"Ready?"

"Yeah. Go for it."

The heat on her back from his unfamiliar presence became physical as he swathed two thick limbs around her arms.

Torn cleared his throat, "You okay? I don't want to accidentally, err- make you uncomfortable."

She could tell. He was trying to be professional, but their close proximity and physical contact was still a bit awkward. Trying to ease his nerves as well as her own, Keira reassured him.

"I'm fine. If someone attacks me, I don't think they'll care how uncomfortable I am."

"True."

"And I trust you, Torn."

He paused. For a moment, she wished she could turn to see if his cheeks were red, a rare sight for the usually tough and hardened fighter.

"Thanks, Keira. I'll do my best to help you out."

"Okay."

"Let's move on."

"I'm all ears."

In contrast to the blood-filled chest cavity against her spine, that resonated ever so slightly with his heartbeat, his naturally grated breath by her ear was cool and collected.

"If he's an amateur, he will grab you like this," he emphasized, wrapping Keira's body in what would be a tight bear hug. "If he's catches you off guard and is strong, this might work; but if not, you can easily slip yourself out by dropping downward. When you drop, do not drop to both knees because it will only stall you from running. One knee only, to push you upward and give you a bit of speed to take off once you're free."

She nodded.

"Give it a try."

Just as he instructed, she squirmed, but was only able to slip down until his forearms caught her chin.

"Once he feels you trying to escape, he will tighten his grip. You have to anticipate this and use your arms to push his grip upwards while you drop. Try again."

"Okay."

The mechanic paused for a moment and dropped, this time putting her strength into preventing the soldier's forearms from blocking her chin from slipping out. When she got to the ground, she stumbled a bit and felt the man's palms on her shoulders.

"Not fast enough. One more time."

The second time, she was able to drop and successfully land on one heel to pivot her into a dash.

"Good. All right, here's the second scenario."

He gestured that she return in front of him and Keira obeyed, beginning to put aside all wary emotions and trying to focus on this learning experience.

It had taken a lot of effort to convince him to teach her. Jak was always on the go - not to mention, not exactly thrilled about the idea of Keira putting herself on any front lines. He assumed it best that he hand her a weapon and convince her that she didn't need to learn any fighting techniques. In many ways, Jak reminded her of her father. Didn't want her to be put in any dangerous situations, but the one thing Keira had always tried to argue about was the fact that sometimes there would be no choice. And she wouldn't always have a hammer or gun ready at her belt.

She'd need to learn a bit of skill with what she was armed with at all times- her own body. And who better to teach her than the previous Commander of the Krimzon Guards, now leading the Freedom League.

At first, the soldier didn't want to show her either, reminding her that she didn't belong on any battlefields. Upon hearing the same answer she'd been repeatedly spoon fed from her father and Jak, Keira had lashed out on him, taking Torn by surprise.

"I can't always hide in my garage, Torn. And in case you haven't noticed, I can't always avoid danger. I mean, look at my social circle. Not exactly a group of anonymous and harmless faces. It's a bit hard to avoid trouble when you're friends with the government and you occasionally date the hero that every villain wants to kill."

"Yeah. I'd say you fit the bill for perfect hostage material."

"Yes! That's why I want to learn! Just a few moves, Torn. I promise I won't go trying to raise hell in any wars or anything. Self defense only."

"Keira-"

"Please, Torn! One afternoon is all I need! Whatever you can offer. I know you're busy with the city but I swear, a bit of training will give you less work in the long run," Keira winked confidently.

"And why is that?"

"Because then there's one less helpless person to worry about protecting."

"Just because you learn a few moves, doesn't mean you're fail-proof," the man reached for the unlabeled hip flask in one of his pouches before the mechanic approached him and stopped any attempt to drink from it.

Why are all the women I know so demanding?

With her hand firmly on his wrist, by Keira's bold approach, he could tell that she was serious.

"It doesn't, but at least I'll have something extra in my arsenal. Besides, I don't think any of us are fail-proof. Just lucky."

"Even Jak?"

"He's got the Precursors stamp of approval so he's extra lucky."

There was silence. The tattoos on his brows straightened and he returned his flask to his pouch.

"Fine. As long as you don't go chopping necks because you're so eager to test out any new moves. Only if you're in danger."

"You got it! And just to sweeten the deal, next repair on your hell cat is on me."

"W-wait- I've been getting charged all this time?"

Keira gave him a wordless grin that said it all.

This was one of Torn's evenings off. He usually spent whatever little free time he had catching up on sleep or in the bar. So for him to take the time to fulfill Keira's request was something she was grateful for.

When she was positioned in front of him, he grabbed her again, this time drawing her arms back over her chest in a crisscross and restraining her by the wrists.

"Now, when your arms are in lock in a way that you can't use your elbows and hands, or you can't easily slip out, your next best bet is to use your heel. The trick is to angle your foot upward, not use the ball of your foot. Aim for the knees, shins, or the bones that extend from the ankle to the toes because you have a better chance at breaking something. This works if the person is behind or in front of you."

"U-umm, do you really want me to stomp on you?"

She heard him give a light chuckle, "I've got my armored boots on today, so I can take a beating. Just see if you can catch my foot."

"All right, I'll try. Ready?"

"Go."

She began to stomp, missing his foot a few times until her heel had almost landed on him. He maneuvered out of the way before she could cause any damage.

"I thought you felt safe with armor?" Keira teased.

"Just in case. You got it, though."

"Cool. All right, now what?"

"All right, if your hands and arms are ever free, your elbows are one of the strongest parts of your body. Body shots will definitely damage him and loosen his grip. If your hands are up, don't hesitate to claw your fingers down his face, anything you can do to fight him off."

"Got it. Nails. Elbows. Poking eyes. All's fair in love and war."

"Exactly. Now here's the thing, if he's got a knife on your throat, the situation changes."

"Well of course. Any wrong move and I'm butchered yakkow meat."

This time, it seemed like they were beginning to get the hang of things. With a little humor and some time already into their lesson, all signs of anxiety had died down. Without hesitation, Torn motioned for the mechanic to re-position herself and she wordlessly complied. He placed his forearm across her shoulders and removed his prized knife. He rested the sheathed blade by her jaw.

"You will know if the guy's a professional or an amateur by how he holds the knife against you. If he knows what he's doing, he will put the knife directly against your throat so any wrong movement on your part will be an instant death."

"So, what am I supposed to do then?"

"Stay calm. Do as he says and wait for an opportunity to escape or attack if your life is not at risk. Attackers will usually be caught off guard once he thinks he has you under his control, and that's when you keep your guard up. Do not shows signs of hostility until you know you have the right moment and do not try to move if he has the knife positioned against your trachea like this," he emphasized with a gentle thrust against her neck.

She nodded, resisting the small urge to gag before the soldier loosened his weapon from her.

"Sorry."

"No problem."

"If he doesn't know what he's doing, he'll hold the knife away from your neck like this. In that case, you can slip out of his hold quickly, down and avoiding the direction in which he'd slash. Push his arms up and push his wrist with the knife away-"

To his surprise, Keira had escaped swiftly from his hold, breathless, beaming and without further instruction.

"Like that?"

Torn rewarded her with a pleased smirk.

"Fast learner."

"Hey. I don't study Precursor technology and fix vehicles for nothing," she tapped her temple with a finger. "Okay, how about a short break? Can I get you something to drink?"

"Oh, uhh- sure. Thanks. Water's fine."

Keira held out her palm, causing him to arch a baffled brow. After a moment of silence, it dawned on him, and the Commander reluctantly surrendered his flask.

"Don't have cups for two here?" He mumbled, a hint of bitterness in his tone, although Keira knew that he wasn't sincerely angry.

"I do, but water's good for you," she sung, pouring whatever alcoholic beverage he had left down the drain of her garage sink. "Be right back. Heading upstairs."

As the mechanic scurried up the steel steps to her apartment, Torn rotated the stiffness in his shoulders. New to this or not, she had enough strength in her to twist his shoulder a bit. It was nothing severe, but enough to convince him that Keira would be a force to be reckoned with once her adrenaline was up.

Perhaps this really was a good decision on his part. At first, he really hadn't wanted to help. Not only did it put him out of his way, he just wasn't used to the one on one time with the Sage's daughter. More than that though, he felt an odd sense of guilt eating at him whenever he thought of Jak-

And Ashelin.

He hadn't told her where he was tonight.

Things hadn't been the same because of the war and the political issues that ended up getting Jak banished from the city. And now that he was back, while the world was saved and they all should have been continuing their merry lives, some things were taking more time to resolve themselves.

Specifically matters between himself and the Governor.

"Here you go," the woman reappeared, bringing him out of his daze to accept the stainless steel flask now filled with ice-cold water.

"Thanks." The gulps were refreshing and served to clarify any prior fog in his thoughts- a reason why he stuck to alcohol in the first place on off-duty hours.

She drank from her cup and sat on the floor across from him. It was obvious that the garage was just as much her home as any other room in her apartment from the way she casually laid across the metal and asphalt as if it were carpet.

"So, umm- how's the city going? I notice it's been shaping up a lot ever since the politicians have been moved around a bit."

"Yeah. Things are improving. The Freedom League is in control again and we're getting back on track with the reconstruction."

"Everyone's been so busy lately. I mean, well, because there's a lot of work to be done, I guess…"

Her voice trailed and died. When Torn looked up, Keira was looking on the far end of the garage. He didn't have to follow her gaze to see what she was looking at.

Nothing. She wasn't looking at anything. She was far off in thought and she had probably rambled something she hadn't meant to say.

He found himself already scolding himself, but his mouth began to blurt words anyway.

Don't even go there-

"I'm sorry, Keira."

Shut it. Do not continue this conversation-

"It's okay. It's written on my face, isn't it? That I'm lonely and I either need more work to keep me occupied or I need some company. And well, I'm not much of a drinker-"

She hinted at his flask and Torn surrendered to her accusations.

"At least you're handling things better than I am. This is all I can do to prevent from breaking something- or someone's face."

"Hmm, I don't know, Torn. I think you can get away with breaking a few faces on account of your military position."

"That would be a taking advantage of my authority, Keira."

"I wish I could break some faces whenever I'm really frustrated," she laughed.

"Sounds like you might find use in a shooting range-"

"Ooh, will you take me to one-"

"NO! Don't even ask."

"Aww," she pouted, titling her head in an adorably natural fashion, causing the Commander to fight the strange tingle in his cheeks.

Wait- what is transpiring here? Are we- are we flirting?

Torn glared at his flask, as if the water was to blame, before clearing his throat.

Back to business.

"All right, it's getting late."

"Yeah. You're right," she agreed in a nonchalant tone, not making any effort to get up from the floor.

"I'll show you one last thing before I go, but you gotta stand up."

Without thinking, he offered a hand and she accepted it. He pulled her up with a grunt and they were both back on their feet. The man expected her to let go*,* and await instructions. Instead, she only loosened her hand in his, and he felt her fingers brush up his forearm before she smoothly spun around to rest her back against his chest, as if she were performing a smooth dance number rather than preparing to begin a lesson in self-defense.

Because the mechanic was not known to be participating in any violence, he expected her hands to prove somewhat lady like. Turned out, though, that her knuckles showed the wear and tear of manual labor, her nails slightly stained and her skin closer to leather than he anticipated. Her hands were still small in comparison to his, though. His large, rigid palms now found themselves involuntarily settling on her waist without thinking of the hostile position he was supposed to be putting himself in.

Torn felt the hairs on his arms and neck stand on end. His stance was rigid and her body weighed against him for support. She hummed, signaling that he begin and the Commander sighed before speaking.

Keira noted that he smelled of salt. Sweat. But not in a bad way. Her face was growing hot, but unlike before, she found herself submitting to it. It was no longer uncomfortable. Rather, it was very-

Safe?

The Commander was older than her. She had always looked to Torn as a mentor of sorts. A protector. A being in which she hadn't had much experience getting too close to because of the age gap and circumstances in general.

They just didn't seem the type to have anything in common. They hadn't really interacted unless it was during group conferences that involved a joint effort. Torn would strategize war formations and relay missions. His men and Jak would be sent to fulfill these missions. She'd be there to offer any opinions on technological resources or tidbits of history that may aid them. After the meetings were over- it was back to work.

Between times of war, it seemed that Keira was the government's most trusted mechanic. When Haven needed something repaired or built, the order was sent straight to her. It wasn't long before Keira was assigned to work on only top-notch gadgetry. These devices would only be provided amongst the most elite members of the Freedom League and the Commander himself personally delivered these requests.

Keira supposed that was how this personal association, friendship- whatever these bonds were, got started between them. Some small talk here and there about their jobs, a warm mug of yakkow milk in the winters while he waited for a quick engine check on his vehicle, discussions about how to get these blueprints of hers to work with what he needed for his military purposes and so on.

He was no stranger but, whatever this was, it wasn't until this very moment that something had struck her. That she was a now a woman and the person behind her was a man. With this realization, it had occurred to her that a whole other set of innuendos could be attached to this seemingly innocent training session and despite her mild fear of it, the warmth of his body cradling hers was somehow reassuring.

Keira always imagined that one of the reasons she'd kept her distance from the former rebel was because she had this one nagging quality about her that would probably lead to misunderstandings.

Curiosity.

Like what made him want to join the KG? What moment gave him the resolve to leave without ever looking back? What was that organic musk that she always smelled on him and what was so precious about that knife he always kept strapped to his back? When did he get those tattoos on his body and what made him get them? What did they mean?

And how far did they stretch on his body?

So much mystery, and Torn was the type to bottle it all up. Or take it to the bottle. Literally, as she had been noticing as of late when she saw him leaving or entering the Brewery or Naughty Ottsel on different occasions.

She definitely loved Jak, probably too much. And she definitely did not see Torn acing her checklist on a lover's material. However, it didn't mean that she was not attracted to him, the way a woman's body enjoys being close to a man's just because it feels right.

The closest way to describe it was probably the way she felt about comfort food. This man was like comfort food. Comfort food didn't have your daily nutrients and in the long run, if overly consumed, it would only do you more harm than good. But comfort food every now and then was an indulgence-

Something you could get away with…

Somehow Torn found the sense in him to take the initiative and restart their lesson.

"Okay. Last thing I'm gonna show you quickly is how to attempt a toss and how to kick correctly."

"Mmm, hmm."

"When you kick, take a step forward with your weaker leg. If you're right handed, that would be your left. Grab the assailant's shoulders or collar and yank downward, shoving you knee into his groin, abdomen or wherever you can get it."

Keira turned in his embrace, took a step back and clenched at his shoulders. Taking her weak leg forward, she asked, "Like this?"

"Yeah, you got it…"

Guiding her hands from his shoulders, Torn returned her back to his chest again, taking note of how their breathing had somehow synced and transformed this into an act meditation. They were both calm. Their emotions no longer wavering and just committing to the training and wherever it willed them.

"Okay, now the toss. I don't think you'll be able to perform this just yet, but I'll show you the basics of it. You'll need to work on strengthening your arms if you ever really want to use it."

His voice had diminished, but she was close enough to hear every syllable vibrate against her back, clear as a bell.

"No worries. I'm stronger than I look. I work in a garage by myself, remember?"

His chuckle dusted her hair against her cheek.

"You're right. Sorry."

"You know what? I think you say sorry too much, Torn."

He stayed silent. He could sense her grin spreading without having to see her face.

"I'm trying not to apologize again," he admitted.

"Okay. The toss," she snickered, "I'm ready."

Her head snapped to him when she spoke, fine strands of aquamarine catching his mouth. He gently brushed the strands aside and tucked them against the side of her neck. The soldier could feel her shoulders contract against his ribs, but the mechanic stood her ground.

"Right. Okay, toss one, you can grab my arm- yeah, just like that, take a step forward and lurch your body forward, yanking with all your might. If you have the strength and the skill, you can successfully flip your enemy over you from behind before they try to clip your neck with their forearm."

Keira tugged on Torn's arm before deciding he was right. She'd need a bit more practice before attempting this one.

"All right, toss two. This one is a called Tomeoe-nage and it's a Judo move."

In one smooth movement, he led her to face him again. Their eyes met and they each kept the straightest face they could manage.

"Okay, I'm attacking you and I've grabbed your shirt. You reach for my arms, underneath-"

Keira followed.

"Squat and start pulling me at a 45 degree angle to the left."

"Like an arc?"

"Yeah. Like that. As you're turning me, you're going to put your foot on my left hip and swing your body under, continuing to turn your grip on me as if you're driving and trying to spin me. If this works, the attacker will land on the leg you've perched on his hip and fall to the side-"

"Okay, let me try-"

"W-wait, hold on-"

Before the Commander knew it, he was a heap of limbs on the floor, the mechanic panting over him and the both of them trying to gather their senses. When he had understood what had happened by the mischievous expression on Keira's face, he realized he'd been bested by her.

"I wasn't ready," he tried to defend himself and the woman scoffed.

"Well, that'll teach you to underestimate this mechanic, then. And to lay off the alcohol."

Their friendly laughter had summed down to hums before Torn's smile faded.

"I'm completely sober."

Keira stared. Torn was realizing they were still on this cold, grated floor. Her fingers clenched on his uniform and the man had reached to her wrists, to unclamp her, but never performed the most essential step.

The actual unclamping.

"Torn?" She finally asked, something sincere in her voice and he responded.

"Yeah?"

And here the pair stood, her hands holding on and the Commander not doing much to resist it. Silence only provokes action and the distance between them began to close.

"HOLY HIPHOG!"

Disturbed mid conversation, the two frantically pushed some distance between them. Torn sat up and Keira released him.

"D-Daxter? What are you-"

Wide eyed, they glared at the Ottsel who had happened upon them without being detected.

"Oh- Jak's not here, then, huh? Sheesh. Leave him alone for a second and he just runs off somewhere. Remind me to put a kiddie leash on that one."

"Hold on, Daxter. Wait!"

Before Keira could get up, the animal had vanished back up the pipe, where he must have snuck in from, and was most likely back outside. Either he had realized he'd been intruding, or he had been completely oblivious and left once realizing his target was nowhere in sight. Judging from all of Daxter's past interruptions, Keira guessed it was the latter. Whatever he'd seen, he had probably already forgotten.

Back on their feet and brushing off the dust, Keira and Torn fought for words.

"Listen I- thanks for the lesson, Torn. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. It was my pleasure," he finished, not catching his own suggestive remark until he had already spat it out.

Idiot.

"If I have any questions or anything, I'll let you know. Just bring your hell cat on over when you've busted her up again."

"Will do, Keira. Will do…"

As he was gathering his things, he had realized she hadn't gone upstairs and instead, busied herself dawdling with junk on her work counter. Spotting the tremble in her hands, she must have been frantic with worry.

"Listen, Keira."

"Hmm?"

This feels awkward…

"I just, uh- just wanted to tell you that I think you're fine just the way you are and I mean it. I'm not trying to be like your father or like Jak, but I can understand the reason why Jak wants you to stay in the garage. Not all men want someone with a gun out in the middle of a war zone. Sometimes men want a woman they can come home to so that they can escape."

The mechanic lifted her chin as if chewing on his food for thought. Digesting its meaning, she agreed.

"That's probably true. My apartment's the only place he can catch a hot shower and meal."

"There you go."

"That's sweet of you, Torn. Thanks for the advice."

"You're welcome."

There was another uncomfortable pause, their faces cooling from the embarrassment earlier before the woman pursued the conversation again.

"Well, then in your case, I'd have to say that the war zone is your element. It's the only thing you know how to do well. A partner in combat is a partner for life, they say."

Ashelin.

"That, they say. I'll keep that in mind."

The woman had spun to bid him farewell, daring to place a palm to his chest. He answered the gesture with his own hand blanketing over hers with a squeeze.

"Thanks again. You're a great friend."

She said it out loud- confirming their relationship to the both of them because they each needed to be reminded.

"Well if the rat's popped up, I'm assuming Jak isn't far behind. I'd better head out before he arrives."

"Yeah…" Their locked hands unclasped.

"Can you do me a favor though, before I go?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Can you refill this flask?"

"With water?" Keira joked, one last time for the night, and Torn nodded with newfound confidence.

"Yeah. I'm suddenly in the mood for volunteer work at the base."

The base was where he could find Ashelin.

"Good for you, Torn. As for me, I think I'm in the mood to try some of these moves on Jak when he gets here-"

"Hey- what did I say about chopping necks? I thought this was supposed to be a secret."

"It is our secret. I'll just tell him that I learned from some books."

Keira tapped her temple and the Commander commented sarcastically, "Because you're a fast learner, right?"

"Right. Although it helps when I've had a great instructor…"

Torn gave a thoughtful nod before he waved and slipped under the garage door. With a sigh, the female genius turned to her table of knots and bolts. Turning one in her fingers, she pondered how she would approach her childhood friend when he arrived and if his fuzzy sidekick had really forgotten what he had intruded on.

Her arms were still prickled. Her back now cold.

Biting the smirk that threatened to stretch, before any of the guilt could set in, footfall re-entered her garage. She swiveled, her mood to tease returning before she was interrupted. Her body yanked forward, and she stumbled into the man's chest before he ducked in to catch her lips.

Caught and indulged, her fingers found the same wrinkles she had caused moments ago, sinking into the material. She breathed, warming his upper lip. Salt. Cold gums. Must have been from the water. But all around pleasant, safe, and just as she suspected-

Just as comforting as comfort food…

When he peeled away, she couldn't contain her humor.

"What was that?"

"Payment for the lesson," Torn mocked before giving her chin a last appreciative sweep of his thumb and vanishing under the garage door once again.

Keira faced her table again, her guilty smirk wild and up to her ears.

There was nothing wrong with a little taste test…

~Fin~

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Just for Fun XD

"In the event that your kidnapper restrains you, there are many ways he can go about securing your hands. First way we're going to learn to escape from is from cable ties. They're sturdy, lock in place, and a pain to get out of."

"I see," Keira nodded, the both of them sitting on their heels in the middle of the garage.

"Lift your wrists. All right, now when I put these on you, I want you pull your elbows back as far as you can, but keep your fists apart in front of your chest."

"Like this?"

"Yeah. And just ball your fists as tight as you can."

"Got it."

"So when I snap these babies on, and I walk away, you can relax your fists."

"Hey, the ties are loose on me."

"Exactly. That way, you have greater chance of slipping 'em off at the opportune moment. In the meantime, you have to keep 'em fisted and make it look like you're still secured or else your kidnapper will be forced to go through harsher methods the next time around, and that's if he isn't feeling testy already."

Keira responded with silence.

"What's wrong?"

Torn could not help but comment on the suspicious glare Keira was directing towards him.

"You know, you've been showing me a lot of helpful moves, but I have to wonder-"

"Wonder?"

"Yeah, those who can't do- teach. So can you do? Or do you just teach?"

"Is that a challenge?" The Commander grinned and the mechanic nodded.

"I think it is," and she zipped the restraints over his wrists before he had time to prepare.

At first, Keira laughed it off, eager to see if Torn would prove her theory wrong. It wasn't until she noticed the stunned expression on his face that she jabbed at him nervously.

"What's wrong, Commander? Defeated by mere plastic cable ties already?"

"No, that's not it. Just- why are mine connected to yours?"

"O-oh! I just realized- it must have been that way when I took them out of the bag! I'm sorry!"

"It's okay. Just more- of a challenge. T-that's all," Torn grunted, also realizing he didn't get to ball his fists up before she zipped them on.

No. He had to do this. He had to prove it to her. That he could teach and do!

"Can't get them off? Should I get my blow torch?"

"W-what? No, let me just reach for my knife. It's on my back so you'll have to move with me-"

"On your back-"

Torn yanked, and Keira slipped. After a brief yelp, she found that she was helplessly collapsed and folded into his chest and lap. Resisting the red in their cheeks, Keira cleared her throat, "Umm, T-Torn?"

"Wait- just- a little more-"

"Hey Keira, I picked up those parts that you wan…ted…"

"Jak!"

"Wowzers! Uhh- I just remembered that I needed to get a carton of milk for Tess!" Daxter quickly excused himself from his best friend's shoulder.

Like metalheads caught in headlights, Torn and Keira stared at their new intruder wide eyed and wearing guilt.

"Keira?" Jak asked, the bag that must have been in his hand now splattered on the ground, and still trying to register the scene before him. "W-what's going on here?"

Keira blinked up at Torn, who slowly lowered his hands from his back, their hands, a tangle of fingers over his knee before the trained soldier did something that made it obvious that he had nothing good to say in his defense.

"Uhh, I'm arresting her for unpaid taxes?"

PS: These are real defense moves so feel free to chop necks- err, I mean, defend yourself from any baddies. :3 I learned some of these off of "Surviving Disaster," on Spike TV. That Navy Seal guy will teach you how to beat somebody's &%$.

This is for Luv2Game because this is partially her fault, haha. She has joined the dark side. And she did the beta and encouraged this piece of sin. I think this all started off with the two of us trying to figure out how Torn and Keira could be believable and just talking about the end of Jak 3. Then our imaginations got the best of us. I'm sorry, Blackfire! I swear, I will write some Razer! We haven't betrayed him, we swear!

I haven't written Torn in, oh- years? And when I did, I'm sure he was horribly out of character, if he isn't in this one. Not sure. Honestly, I just wrote this pairing for fun. They're such a rebound pair, but that's the evil part of it, har har.

I was also pretty inspired by a comic Sexy-Ninja-Bear had on DA. It's hilarious. Torn and Keira are sucking face when all of a sudden, Torn backs away and says, "Wait- wait, have we actually met?" because they like, have not really interacted in any of the games one on one, haha. Ah, so true, so true.

This is so much fun! Okay, now I have a five-page paper to write before Thursday. Grr. Toodles.