[The Losers] Third Time's a Charm
aaaand the third time Jensen suspected…
warnings: bastardized com-movie-verse. slashy. language: pg-13 (primetime tv plus one use of g**damn).
pairing: Cougar/Jensen pre-slash.
timeline: pre-movie/pre-comic.
disclaimer: the Losers belong to DC/Vertigo.
notes: 1) this time, italics are emphasis, and as per my usual ~"..."~ is stuff on cell phones, computers, etc.. 2) the title is a reference to the saying "third time's a charm" or "third time lucky," which is a superstition that the third attempt at something is more likely to succeed. 3) i hadn't heard the phrase "to lose your shit" until i moved to cali. XD if you've never heard it, it means "to go crazy." 4) PT = physical training. daily PT is a requirement on active duty in the army. when you're high enough in rank (or your CO says it's cool), you can pick the time of day you prefer (some people like to run in the evening, for instance). 5) i have an "i'm with stupid" shirt where the text is at the very bottom of the shirt with the arrow pointing up. (and another one that's the reverse, with the text at the top and the arrow pointing down). XD 6) when i say Nick Junior, i mean all that cracktastic aimed-at-preschoolers shit they play in the morning. 7) my sister totally leaves phone and web messages like this, where she magically knows everything that'll be going on in the room at the time.
Third Time’s a Charm
Apparently, before Jensen joined the Losers, they Didn’t Do Holidays.
Holidays were a luxury the Losers could rarely afford. Christmas was usually the only one they could count on, and they’d missed it twice (once just after Pooch joined, and he’d been useless and mopey the whole day…Jensen would’ve loved to see that). Sometimes they could get Thanksgiving or Independence Day (that one was especially nice, because a set of dogtags and a military ID could get them all shit-faced on less than ten bucks).
They didn’t even bother with birthdays.
Jensen put a stop to that boring shit right away.
Jensen would make a big deal out of almost any national holiday (and a few from other countries) plus Halloween. He’d thought about trying for more, but he’d only been with the gang for just shy of two years, and he didn’t want to try Clay’s patience (Roque was different, it was fun to piss him off and he didn’t really get a say in whether or not Jensen got kicked to the curb). He even decorated for most of them, and Clay didn’t make a fuss as long as the streamers, banners, and confetti were cleaned up within forty hours.
His first birthday with the unit had been while they were ass-deep in jungle, so he’d let it slip by. This time, they were back on base-and he fully intended to make the most of it.
Three days before his birthday, mail call turned up a brown box that contained three wrapped presents and a home-made card, and he officially Began to Lose His Shit. He realized he was probably driving the guys up the walls with his hyperactive glee, but he loved his niece and he loved getting presents, so getting a present from his niece made him bounce with joy. By the day before his birthday, even Clay had had enough; he sternly told Jensen to “calm the fuck down before I have you sedated.” He also told Jensen that any kind of party noisemaker was forbidden unless Jensen felt like telling a base physician about how Roque shoved it into whatever-bodily-orifice.
Still, when wake-up call hit and most of the base was stirring to life, Jensen sang Happy Birthday at the top of his lungs. Roque and Pooch ran off to do their PT in record time.
He started with the box that said ‘open first.’ There was a shirt with a note pinned to the collar (wear this), so he unpinned the note and pulled the shirt on. It said ‘I’m With Stupid,’ and had an arrow pointing up. The second box (me next) had a DVD in it that he immediately popped into his laptop while he looked at the third one (don’t open until we tell you to!).
On the screen, Holly and Bethie (wearing party hats) waved. ~”Hi, Uncle Jake!”~
“Hi, girls!” he said, even though he knew they couldn’t hear him (he did it with Bethie’s Nick Junior shows, too).
~”So, we were gonna sing you happy birthday,”~ Holly said, and shrugged. ~”But then we figured you’ve probably been singing it all week in an hourly countdown, and decided to take pity on Frank and the boys. By this point, they’ve probably fled your presence, and you’re lucky Will hasn’t done something drastic like tying you up and locking you in a supply closet.”~
“Oh, sure, everyone’s a comedian,” Jensen muttered.
~”We’re sorry you didn’t have time to come home,”~ Holly went on. ~”At least you’re actually in the country, this year, right? Open the third box.”~
He did. It was a batch of chewy peanut butter cookies with butterscotch chips. “You guys are awesome!” he squealed.
~”Yes, we’re awesome,”~ Holly agreed, and Bethie held up the cookies. ~”We baked them right before we sent them.”~
~”I helped!”~ Bethie said proudly. ~”I stirred. And I licked the bowl, which his how you always help.”~
Holly shook her head as if to say ‘look what a bad influence you are.’ ~”You don’t have to share them, but he-”~ She pointed over his shoulder. ~”-will probably sulk all day if you don’t give him one.”~
Jensen blinked and looked where she pointed.
Cougar casually went back to cleaning his gun.
~”Yeah, he’s probably playing cool, too, like we don’t all three know he started hovering the second he smelled those cookies.”~
~”Tell him, Mommy, tell him,”~ Bethie pressed, putting down the cookies.
~”I’m getting there,”~ Holly assured her. ~”At the beginning of the month, Bethie’s first grown-up tooth came in.”~
~”Thee?”~ said the six-year-old, pulling her mouth wide to show the beginning of her adult molar.
“Yay!” Jensen cheered.
~”Anyway, you know the drill: the pictures you’ve missed are all on here. Happy birthday, Jacob, and try not to blow anything up.”~
~”Bubbye, we love you!”~
And they waved.
So Jensen stuck a cookie in his mouth and started flipping through the photo gallery the girls had put on the disc.
“Oh, my god, these things are fucking fantastic!” he said. “Best birthday present ever. Ever. Best friend or not, Cougs, I don’t think you can top a batch of PBBS.”
On the next bunk over, he heard Cougar set down the gun he’d been cleaning. Then the sniper appeared (Jensen never heard the guy’s footsteps unless Cougar decided he wanted to be heard) and sat next to him on the edge of his bunk. One eyebrow arched in a way that said, ‘I totally could.’
Jensen shook his head. “No, seriously. Unless it turned out that you’re secretly a superhero and you could introduce me to, like, the Avengers or something…”
Cougar nodded solemnly. Then he grasped Jensen’s chin and turned his head enough to kiss the living daylights out of him.
Jensen’s brain gave up coherent thought for a while. It managed to register two things: one, Cougar was a hell of a kisser; two, Cougar looked delightfully wicked when he smirked with his hair still mussed from sleep.
When Cougar stole a cookie and went back to cleaning his gun, Jensen’s brain finally kicked back on and volunteered one gem of wisdom that he managed not to say aloud.
Okay, that totally topped the cookies.
That was the third time Jensen suspected Cougar of flirting with him, and he was just about convinced.
.End.
merianmoriarty has my formal permission to pimp my fics on various comms (if/when i ever abandon deviantART, i'll go ahead and join the comms myself and take care of getting things posted in the right places). no one has permission to re-post this ANYWHERE, but feel free to share or link.
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