Thought I'd finally give The Losers fanfiction a shot!

I have no real explanation for this story, the idea just popped into my head one day and I've been meaning to write it for awhile. I finally got it written before my fiance threw me into the pool.

Got the idea after watching a TV show about guys that have big guns... Then I thought of sniper rifles.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Losers (although I would LOVE to meet the men who do!)

"Hey, Clay," Pooch called, looking up from the engine of the van. He waited while Clay looked through papers that were scattered over the table in the garage. Jensen sat at the other end, muttering to himself every now and again as he searched through the web for intel. Besides him and his key tapping the only other noise was the sound of car parts being moved, added, and removed. Cougar was no where in sight, although his sniper rifle and other gear were in plain site on another, smaller table off to the side, just within Pooch's sight.

Clay looked up towards his head of transport and waited. "Why does Coug carry around such a big gun?"

"Because he's a sniper?" Clay said, glancing at Jensen who had looked up at the question. Both looked confused and turned back to Pooch who had covered his face and smeared oil on his temples.

"Not what I meant. I meant, like, why choose a profession that requires a big gun. You think he's overcompensating for something?" Pooch asked, looking around to make sure the deadly man in question was no where in earshot.

Clay only shrugged, not really wanting to get pulled into a conversation about penal size. "Maybe he just likes shooting shit." He said, looking back at the papers.

"Did you know Lithuania's recorded as the country with the largest penis sizes?" Jensen said, as always, having a fact for every occasion. "Or it was in 2008, I don't know if it still 's or not."

"You know this why?" Pooch asked, staring at Jensen. After so many years he should have expected something like this, but it still amazed him at what came out of Jensen's mouth sometimes.

Clay shook his head and looked up at Pooch in disbelief. "Why do you ask if Cougar's overcompensating? At least Jensen's got an excuse. He just knows shit."

"Well before we left I was watching this weird show where they talked about guys who use big guns are overcompensating." Pooch replied, turning back towards the engine.

Jensen shrugged and went back to typing with an offhand, "Anyways, Coug's isn't overcompensating."

"How do you know? What? Mexico come in second?"

Jensen shook his head and shrugged. "I just do."

Clay stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling as the next days operation went through his head. Everything was to the second. Nothing could go wrong. In theory, he thought to himself, yawning and reaching up to turn off the light. He stopped when he realized that his door was open. He cursed their base camp and it's crappy foundation and doors. He stood up reluctantly and walked over to shut it.

In the hall, Pooch walked by, his expression horrified as he walked forward, his jaw fallen open and his eyes nearly popping from his skull. Clay stopped, his hand on the wood and looked at him. "You okay?"

"I-I found out how Jensen knew," Pooch stammered, gaping. He shuddered. He moved quicker towards his bunk room of the abandoned house they had hijacked. Clay watched him disappear and turned towards the other direction, staring towards Jensen's room. He was hesitant, but curious. His curiosity had gotten him in worse situations and besides, what's the worse that could happen?

He moved towards Jensen's room and knocked on the door. There was no answer. He pressed his ear to the door. Jensen's snores weren't assaulting his eardrums. He opened the door a crack and saw only blackness. He pushed the door further and saw that the room was empty.

"Where the f-?" His question was silenced by a long moan that sounded very much like Jensen's voice. Clay swallowed and moved down the hall to Cougar's room and heard the same moan only this time it formed a name. The same name as a certain sniper.

Overcompensating- End

We all knew he had to know some how.