Jinx had not been handed the best lot in life, a fact of which he was aware. Working for a guy as slimy as Krew, living in a run-down water slums shack, and being forced to interact with the likes of Mog.

But there were upsides, definitely, and he was staring at one.

Jak was bent over in front of him, trying to catch his breath, having a hard time of it in the thick, muggy air of the sewer. He'd been doing all of the hard work so far, and had kept a steady pace until now.

But he could take as long as he needed, as far as Jinx was concerned. He wasn't usually one for art, but the thing in front of him was quite the piece of work. Not too big, yet curvy enough to entice him to stare. Jinx reckoned it would be smooth, and firm. It could probably take more than a few slaps and squeezes.

Taking a puff of his cigar, he blew the smoke in Jak's direction, wanting the breather to last a bit longer. It sure was a nice view, far better than what he got with the men he usually teamed up with.

Jak himself was also attractive; he had that rugged 'I'm-dangerous-and-sensitive-at-the-same-time' kinda feel about him. The dangerous side of him was obvious, what with all the Metal Head smashing he was doing. The sensitive side came more from his naïveté, shown by his bewilderment at Jinx's remarks.

Jinx bet that if he kept up the flirting, he could get a blush out of that pretty young rebel. Maybe he could even cop a feel of that round, perfect ass and get away with it.

But then Jak straightened up, apparently having found his breath once more, and looked back at Jinx and his group. Jinx got off the wall that had been his leaning post, and Mog and Grimm both stopped chattering.

Jak gave a nod, and restarted his trek though the filthy sewers, the bomb experts following close behind.

Jinx, perhaps, was a bit closer than the rest.

FFFFFF Jinx should have had a bigger part in the games, I really think he was an untapped reservoir of glory. Ah well. Characters aren't mine and blah blah blah