Losers in the West 1/?
Title: Losers in the West
Rating: R (it'll get there)
Pairings: nothing this chapter, hinted Clay/Aisha
Disclaimer: I don't own the Losers, but I did make up the story, just not most of the characters.
Warning: AU, will contain slash, and violence (Not betad)
Summary: Ten years after the Civil War, Jensen had a peaceful life of tinkering and inventing. Until one day he is recruited by an old friend to aid in the investigation of a ghost agent known as Max. His once mundane existence is once again filled with confusion and danger. Strangely enough, the fun is just starting.
Prologue
Jake Jensen wiped his brow as he finished twisting the final bolt into his latest contraption. With a satisfied smirk he connected a loose wire to a small electric generator and jumped back when the device began to smoke. Sparks flew in random directions as he grabbed the wire with rubber mittens and disconnected it.
“Damn!” Jensen growled as he looked at his smoldering device. There was a loud knock from the other room, a strange almost foreign sound. He rarely had company, as much as he would have enjoyed having people to talk to.
As he walked over to the door he adjusted his glasses then tugged it open, grinning from ear to ear. On his stoop was none other than Lieutenant Colonel Franklin Clay, a man he affectionately called Boss back in his army days. Beside him was a very beautiful woman with caramel skin and piercing brown eyes. For a few seconds the blonde simply gawked at her before he thought to invite them in.
“What can I do for you Colonel?” he asked once everyone was inside his messy but humble abode. There were knick knacks scattered about, a few unfinished inventions and failed experiments he could not bring himself to throw out.
“I’ve got a mission for you,” Clay responded and Jensen blinked at him as if struck dumb.
“Colonel I’m not sure if you’ve heard but the war is over. Been over for almost a decade, thank goodness,” he grinned and looked over at the woman who only pursed her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“This isn’t-“
“What he’s trying to say is that you’re going on a trip, so pack your things,” she demanded in a most unlady-like fashion.
“Hey wait a minute, what’s going on Boss?” Jensen lifted his hands defensively and looked over at the colonel for some explanation.
“I’ve been-“
“He’s accepted a mission from the head of the U.S. security guard and detective agency. He wants you to help. Any further explanation can wait,” she sneered impatiently which caused Jensen to scowl at her.
“Listen lady, can’t you see we’re trying to talk?” he snapped and before he could so much as blink a rather nicely tailored foot collided with his face. Jensen tripped over some of the gadgets scattered on his floor and slammed into the nearby wall.
“Shit. What was that for?”
“I’m not a lady, and don’t you dare talk down to me,” he heard her sneer, though it was difficult to make her out with his glasses missing from the bridge of his nose. He recognized the dark build that loomed over him, and his glasses were replaced before Clay pulled Jensen into a standing position.
“Right, sorry… Christ,” Jensen groaned while he tested the dependability of his jaw by shifting it from side to side. “What do you think Colonel,” he asked looking at Clay for a moment before quickly looked back at the woman, as if expecting another blow.
“I think I could really use your help,” Clay confirmed and smirked over at the woman as she readjusted the skirt of her dress. “And as you can tell from Agent Aisha’s outburst, we’re in a bit of a rush.”
“Just don’t kick me again,” Jensen looked at Aisha, who was tucking some hair behind her ear in a deceptively innocent manner. “When do we leave?”
“Now,” Aisha and Clay said in unison. Jensen looked between the pair then made eye contact with the colonel his brow arching.
“Alright I’ll get my stuff.”
Chapter One: The Team
Three days later Jensen found himself looking around a fancy train cabin. After a brief but thorough inspection of nothing in particular he looked at the woman he now knew as the Pinkerton Agent Aisha. “So… where are you from?”
“The plains of Africa,” she replied while cleaning under her nails with a rather intimidating looking bowie knife.
“Oh, that must have been interesting,” Jensen choked out uncertain if she was just trying to psyche him out. “You work for Pinkerton?”
“I am an agent.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“I’ve used more weapons than you probably know exist. I am shot at on a regular basis, and on a great many occasions I have to use my body to get out of dangerous situations,” she pointed at him with her knife. “What are your skills?”
“Um well I guess I can use my body to get out of dangerous situation, but I’m really just good with my hands,” Jensen looked down at his fingers and returned his gaze back to Aisha when she laughed.
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” she said and looked over at the door before it slid open. Jensen smiled up at the coffee colored stranger that entered, only to be confused by the suspicious glare he was given in return.
“Jensen, Aisha, I’d like to introduce you to Linwood Porteaus,” Clay said, stepping into the cabin followed by a taller darker looking man with a grizzly scar on one side of his face. “And William Roque.”
“Pleasure,” Jensen said with a genuine grin and lifted his hand.
Proteaus eyed the hand for a minute but took it, “My friends call me Pooch.”
“Must be better than Linwood,” Jensen joked and Pooch smiled.
“Blame it on my mama.”
Jensen moved over to make room and Pooch took the seat next to him while Clay dropped down to sit next to Aisha. Roque lingered by the door glaring at Aisha who just ignored him as she continued to clean her nails.
“So what’s this all about?” Roque growled and looked around at the rag tag bunch. Clay seemed ready to explain but he shut his mouth knowing that Aisha was going to just interrupt him.
“Well gentleman,” she spoke up, “You’ve been given a business proposition, straight from the Allan Pinkerton-“
The mention of Allan Pinkerton only really seemed to impress Pooch and Jensen, while the rest acted as if this was normal Sunday afternoon conversation.
“Your mission: Stop Max.”
“Stop Max?” Pooch parroted and she shot him a look that instantly shut him up.
“Max is typically a title given to ghost agents working for the government. Normally they were used for gathering intelligence, but now someone is monopolizing that title and using ghost agent status to conduct all sorts of suspicious activities in the west. When Pinkerton tried to look into it himself he was cut off and ordered to cease any further investigation. Thus he went to Clay.”
“So we’re working for Pinkerton? Not the U.S. security guard and detective agency?” Jensen asked and Aisha nodded her head slowly.
“Clay is doing Mr. Pinkerton a favor. You all work for me, as an extension of Pinkerton. The pay is good, but there is no guarantee that this will be easy.”
“As long as the pay is good I’m in,” Pooch said and crossed his hands behind his head leaning back in his seat, as if satisfied with the conditions.
“What sort of suspicious activities has this Max been conducting?” Jensen asked and Roque nodded as he expectantly looked at Aisha. She bit her lip as if pondering something. When she looked at Clay he gestured for her to continue.
“Max has been mining illegally in the New Mexico territory designated for an Indian reservation. In case you weren’t already aware the reservations are miserable places, being surrounded by demolition does not make it any easier to cope. From what one of my contacts has told me, the government is being bribed to turn the other check…”
“Why don’t they just move the red-skins?” Roque asked, and Aisha tensed up as if she was restraining herself from hitting him.
“That is an entire process the government would rather not bother with. So Mr. Pinkerton suspects that Max is preparing to find another means to get rid of the natives.”
“I don’t see how this is our problem,” Roque replied and Aisha shifted poised to lash out if not for Clay’s hand on her shoulder.
“It’s your problem because I’m paying you to solve it!” she growled at him and shrugged off Clay’s hand.
“Roque,” Clay said in a soft voice that suggested some familiarity between the two. Jensen looked over at Aisha who still appeared unbelievably annoyed. “If you’re not going to do this then you can walk.”
The large man just sneered and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned on the cabin wall. “The pay better be real good.”
“I’m in,” Jensen chimed. All the tension instantly shattered by his sheepish laugh as he looked around at the others. “What’s the plan?”
“In ten minutes this train is going to be heading to Tombstone. Once there we’ll meet my contact before we set up a reconnaissance plan-“
“I can do that,” Jensen perked up and Aisha glared at him in warning, her slender fists clenching to the point that joints popped. “Ma’am,” he added for good measure.
“We need to know exactly what he’s doing then find a way to infiltrate the reservation. Once inside we need to find Max and if necessary shut down his whole operation,” she continued and leaned back in her seat pulling up her skirt and sliding the knife into the holster on her thigh. It was hard to believe that she could even conceal such a large weapon. “Once the mission is complete, you’ll receive your pay; one-thousand dollars, plus a little something extra.”
Pooch whistled and Jensen slammed back against his seat with a surprised grunt. That much money was more than what the government had paid him for surviving the war. Even Roque seemed impressed by the offer.
“So you’re all in?” Clay asked. Everyone gave a nod of agreement and he smiled sitting comfortably in his seat. “Well looks like we better play nice then,” he glanced up at Roque who took a seat next to Pooch. “It’s gonna be a long trip.”
Five days into the trip Pooch and Jensen had become fast friends, sharing stories about the war. At times having drinks with Clay, though the man seemed increasingly distracted by their female traveling companion. Roque typically kept to himself only exchanging words with Clay and Pooch, though he remained maliciously suspicious of Aisha.
One morning as the train quickly began to approach San Antonio, Jensen was sitting in the dining car sipping on coffee as he fretted over a piece of paper with some schematics on it. Silently Aisha took a seat across from him. Not realizing that she was even there he picked up his coffee and brought it to his lips, nearly choking on it when he looked across to see her smirking at him. “Aisha,” he croaked and attempted to clear his throat.
“You’re up early.”
“I wanted to check out some of my plans. I’ve got this great idea for improving the camera, maybe even make it more portable.”
“As if that could ever happen,” she shook her head, “Are you going to need supplies? Clay told me that you’re a genius tinkerer.”
“It’s just a hobby. Since we’ve managed to harness electricity there is a whole new world of possibilities. You see with the way electricity is now we can only power small simple things, but I’m thinking in the future that people can create large machines that can process information. Maybe even create a new means of communication sort of like that telephone business,” he rambled on and she just looked at him with a blank expression. “Is there something I can do for you Ms. Aisha?”
“Roque doesn’t seem to like us much.”
“I guess. Then again he doesn’t really seem to ‘like’ anyone,” Jensen admitted and shrugged. “Clay told me that he met Roque when he was captured by the rebels during the war. If it wasn’t for Clay, Roque probably would have been killed or sold back into slavery. Thankfully they managed to escape.”
“You and Clay both don’t seem to care about color,” she pointed out and Jensen blushed as if he had received the nicest compliment in the world.
“Well ma’am, there’s only one thing Clay is prejudice against, and that’s ass-holes -pardon my speaking- but that’s the truth. As for me, my mama didn’t raise no fool,” he plucked at his collar and puffed out his chest. She pocked his solar plexus causing him to exhale with a soft whine.
Aisha grinned when he pouted at her, “Hard to believe a dandy like you was ever a soldier.”
“I ain’t a dandy,” Jensen proclaimed as Clay took a seat next to Aisha who glanced at him in that intense manner. Something about the way these two acted together told Jensen all he needed to know about their relationship.
“By the sounds of it this train is picking up some important cargo. If you listened to the way the conductors were talking it sounds like we’ve got a cougar coming on board,” Clay explained.
“I’ll look into it,” Jensen volunteered, eager to do something besides sitting around. He was not the typical man of action, but after that dandy comment he felt like he had something to prove.
As he got up he attempted to gather his schematic but Clay slapped his hand down on top of it. “Keep out of trouble,” the colonel warned and Jensen smirked.
“When do I ever get into trouble?”
“I can list a good few times,” Clay said and Jensen slipped off, passing Roque as he left the dining car. He offered the large man a greeting but all he received was a glare and an annoyed response.
To be continued Part 2
A/N: Here it is. I've got a cowboy kink, and the Losers in the west just sounded like an awesome idea. I mean come on they're perfect. Especially Aisha in one of those big frilly dresses. The idea just makes me laugh. I had to do alot of reserach for this fic, so I at least hope that I'm mostly accurate. I got a B in US history you'd think I'd know this stuff. So I hope you all like, and I'll get the next chapter up ASAP. Please stay tuned to see how Cougar joins the crew.