Naughty Dog lets me play with them as long as I clean them off before I give them back.

Keira presses her shoulder against Ashelin's arm and shoves. Every nerve in her body lights and turns her hand to claws. And somehow, hands that cradled and shaped metal aren't strong enough to break Ashelin's grip around her shoulders. So she strains, and trembles, and watches the pyramid go down. She squints her eyes into little slits, hard enough to guard it from the blowing sands.

"Keira, stay back," Ashelin grunts, tightening her arm even more. Keira's body stills. Stills, except for her trembling arms and fingers, the ache scratching her throat.

Jak she thinks, every fiber of her being echoing that quiet, small wish.

A breeze begins to blow. Keira's eyes widen. She watches-

-and that breeze turns to a miracle, brushing aside the dust blanket and freeing two silhouettes. Daxter stands as tall and proud as an ottsel can, eyes narrowed and fingers curled in towards his palm. Keira's eyes slide to the tall man in the crimson cowl and the goggles.

Her body stays frozen until he lifts the goggles from his eyes, the deep blue catching a chip of sunlight.

"Jak!"

Keira's body surges forward, and this time, Ashelin lets it.

Keira can't see his expression beneath the red cowl. But he stops, arms open as Keira bolts across the sand. But she forces herself to calm down, to slow those last few steps towards Jak.

She walks to him and stops. The wasteland sun bathes them with heat, and the breeze cools their sweat. Keira lifts her hands, stepping closer, moving to her tiptoes. She hooks her fingers in the cowl.

Her mouth opens. Her words tumble and curl, useless nubs quickly covered by sand. But Jak's breath is breath is a warm, soft wash against her nose and mouth. Then she lowers the cowl, surging up into him, and he sucks in a breath. His hand is gentle on her shoulder.

Their first kiss is made of grit and sand, wind and desert heat.