Aisha's discovered that Max's new right-hand man likes to hit the clubs in every town he's in. Get him, and they're one step closer to Max.
Which is why Cougar is watching Jensen tonight. Not through the soothing distance of his scope, but from the corner of a packed nightclub, under the brim of his hat. The music's loud enough for the bass to stir the hair on his arms, sending vibrations down his spine.
Jensen is on, eyes wide, pupils blown, a smudged hot pink lipstick mark on one cheek and a smear of body glitter down his shirtless chest. He shaved his beard and cut his hair short, the buzzcut and bare skin just making him look younger, like a college student on the down-low, all full of cheap alcohol and drugs and willing to do anything. The club lights gleam off of his skin, his bottom lip shines with wetness, and Cougar's eyes aren't the only ones on him.
But watching Jensen writhe on the dance floor feels obscene, and Cougar knows that, if it wasn't for the mission, he'd be dragging him off to one of those darkened corners, pulling him close, making him beg.
Jensen makes the pre-arranged signal, disguised as a dance move as he slides against a couple of girls, and Cougar's gaze switches to where he was indicating. There, in a darkened corner, sat the man they were looking for.
Cougar double checks the dart gun in his hands, then makes his move. Later, back at the camp, while Clay and Aisha are getting information from him, Cougar will go up to Jensen, after the makeup's washed off, after the eyedrops have worn off, after the stink of cheap aftershave and cheaper beer has been replaced with the soft scent of soap, and make sure Jensen remembers who he belongs to.
This The Losers story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at http://www.dymphna.net/fanfic/. And you can feedback her at dymphna@dymphna.net.