When she found out that the Losers were finally getting leave, Jensen had immediately gotten a crappy pre-furnished apartment that rented by the week in a nameless city somewhere cold. She was tired of being sweaty and hot, and her sister was still furious at her for joining an active unit that actually, you know, sees combat. It was easier to just call and leave a message assuring her that Jensen hadn't gotten herself blown up recently – and to send a few presents for her niece, adorable little squirt that she was – than to spend her three glorious weeks off arguing and dealing with her sulking sister.
So while Pooch went off to spend time with his wife, and Clay and Roque went off to do whatever it was that Clay and Roque did, and Cougar did...something Cougar-like, Jensen sat herself in the middle of co-ed city and got down to partying like it was 2012.
The thing was, Jensen really did like cock. Oh, she liked women too, she wasn't faking that, but she was equally attracted to both sexes. But she spent all of her time with rough and tumble men, and while she knew that none of them would take something that she wasn't going to offer, she also didn't want things to be awkward.
It was easier to be one of the guys if they thought that she pretty much was a guy. A straight guy.
But sometimes – well, sometimes a girl just wants to suck a guy's cock, you know? And straight guys? Don't usually do that sort of thing.
Two weeks into leave and she hadn't gotten anything more than a few check in calls from Clay (and Roque) and a single invitation to crash with Pooch and Jolene. She hadn't heard from Cougar at all.
She drank all night, and slept with whoever looked interested and hot, and she loved every fucking minute of it. Here, she could forget about being Corporal Jensen, and just be Jake.
The thing was, whenever whoever was their government boss for the month decided that they were going to do something especially crazy and illegal, Clay went around and collected them all in person. It made it easier to keep their movements off the grid, and it cut down on the chance of someone intercepting a message.
He didn't tend to call ahead first. And Jensen was usually the last to be picked up. And this time, she was kind of busy when the gang came knocking at her door.
Jensen was on her knees, giving some lucky bastard in a cowboy hat the blow job of his life in her shitty little kitchen. The stereo was blaring Lady Gaga's Just Dance at top volume, and she was humming along to the chorus, trying to get him to come before the track ended. He was pawing at her hair, trying to get some kind of grip on her, but she practically had a buzz cut, and it was pretty much impossible, which was the whole point. She hummed a little harder and took him a little deeper, and his hat tilted at a dangerous angle that reminded her of—
And then the Losers came busting through the damn door.
Awkward did not even begin to describe it.
There was shouting, and gun waving, and someone jerked her back, leaving poor Cowboy Hat out and exposed in a room full of murderous, overprotective soldiers with enough weapons to take on a Colombian drug lord. Roque had a knife to the guy's throat, and Pooch had his favorite pistol shoved against his jaw, and Clay was trying to shout threats over the music, and Cougar.
Well, Cougar was the one holding her back from putting a stop to the whole mess, but he was looking at Cowboy Hat like he was sizing him up through his scope.
Eventually, Clay ripped the cords to the stereo out – which, hey now, that was sensitive equipment – and everyone could suddenly hear again. Cowboy Hat looked like he was going to piss himself in fright. And Jensen couldn't really blame him; psychotic terrorists who killed kids for fun pissed themselves when surrounded by her team, so it was entirely understandable. Hell, she was kind of surprised that he hadn't actually done it yet.
And, okay, for a damn certified genius, Jensen could be kinda dumb at times, but she didn't really understand why her team was so fucking angry. It wasn't like this guy was forcingher to—
The minute she managed to get Cowboy Hat safely out of the apartment, she turned on her team with the righteous fury of a Jensen woman – well, Jensen women didn't really need an excuse to have righteous fury; it just came naturally.
“Seriously, guys,” she spat, hands on her hips and anger radiating from her in waves. “Seriously?”
“What the hell was that?” Pooch said, his gun still in hand. “Why the fuck did you let him get away?”
“Get away? Are you on crack?” she shouted. “I'm on fucking leave, in my apartment, and you decide to bust down my fucking door?”
“Since when do you like dick?” Roque demanded, like he had any fucking right to know. “I thought you were—”
“That what? That I'm a dyke? Have you never heard of bisexuals? Do I need to get a diagram for you? Do you need a fucking flow chart? Is the concept too hard to grasp? Should I make you a PowerPoint? Do we need to have The Talk, 'cause I gotta say, I thought your mamas would have covered that by now—”
“Oh my God, are you serious?” Jensen could feel the rant growing beneath her skin. Normally, she'd hold back – screw what the others thought of her, she did actually have a temper buried under all the cheerfulness – but she was pissed enough that she didn't want to. “Fuck that, and fuck you. Do I look like someone who needs a big strong man to protect me? If I hadn't wanted it, do you think that that guy, him, some dude who's never even held a fucking gun before, could have made me? I'm a fucking soldier, and there's a difference between giving head while I'm on leave and – and that.”
They all flinched and shifted uncomfortably in place, avoiding eye contact, and Jensen realized that—
Oh. They knew. Fuck. Oh, fuck.
Jensen punched Clay in the face. He took it like a man and didn't whine when she followed it with a knee to the groin.
He told them. Fucker.
She didn't listen to Clay's excuses, she just packed her shit and got into Pooch's SUV of the week. The door was in splinters, but that was okay, because she was going to take the repair costs out of the men's bank accounts, and they would be grateful if that was all she took.
They went on the mission, and they didn't die, and Jensen stayed angry for the entire thing. They did the op in almost complete silence, and it felt so unnatural that even Jensen felt uneasy. She knew that she was going to have to work things out with the team – she didn't have anywhere else to go, really, the Losers were her last stop before they kicked her out, genius or not – but she was just so fucking angry. And hurt. And, maybe, yeah, betrayed.
But then, they hadn't really made any special allowances because of it. And she'd never seen them freak out before – of course, they'd never walked in on her preforming fellatio either.
And it's really, really hard to stay angry at her boys when they crept around her like kicked puppies.
So yeah. Moving on.
After everyone kissed and made up (and she laid down some serious ground rules about what is and is not acceptable behavior) it took her a while to notice. Cougar was avoiding her. It wasn't just that he wasn't talking to her, because Cougar is a man of few words anyway, it was just—
They usually bunked together. It had just worked out that way, back in the beginning, since Roque bunked with Clay, and Pooch refused to share with either of them, and so they had just sort of wound up together. Jensen and Cougar. Cougar and Jensen. And now he was avoiding her.
It was seriously messing with her head.
Pooch pulled her aside in between missions. "Don't take it personally," he told her, "Cougar's just adjusting."
"Adjusting to what?" she demanded. Pooch hesitated, like he was actually unsure about what he was going to say, before he continued.
“There's a difference between wanting someone and accepting that it's not going to go anywhere because that person isn't attracted to your gender, and wanting someone and knowing that it's not your gender, it's you.” He shook his head and rubbed his hand over his face. “And that's all the girly shit I can take today.,” he grumbled. “I'm gonna go drink beer and play with guns now.”
“Oh,” she said to the space where he had been. “So he's just a fucking moron. That explains it.”
Jensen didn't pause to think out a plan before confronting Cougar, she just did it.
“I'm not going to apologize for having sex, Cougar. It's fun and nice and I don't fucking care if you don't like it,” she informed him. He went completely stiff, and he was clearly uncomfortable, but she really didn't care at the moment. “That said, you are really fucking blind for someone who's supposed to be a sniper.”
He raised his eyebrow at her from beneath the rim of his hat. Oh God, his hat.
“The dude that you so kindly blue-balled?” No change in his facial expression. “Was wearing a fucking cowboy hat. How the fuck did you not notice that? I was in fucking New Hampshire. Who the hell in New Hampshire wears a cowboy hat?”
“Oh,” he said. Pause. “Oh. Soy un puto imbécil.” He actually looked kind of embarrassed which was - kinda cute.
“Something like that,” she agreed. She leaned in, planning on taking advantage of the moment to kiss him when—
“Hey Losers!” Clay shouted from somewhere behind them, startling the shit out of her. “Pack your shit; we've got a mission!”