A/N: I have to dedicate this chapter to gottalovealoser. That was probably the funniest review I have ever gotten, from any of my fics! For providing me with much entertainment (and so you don't lash out at unsuspecting victims around you), you get rewarded with a swift update!...woulda been faster, but I got distracted with all the buttons in the new car I got this morning...

Jensen blinks his eyes open slowly, yawns, then winces as he tries to move. He looks down at himself to discover he's been bound to a tree.

"Ah, man," ha mumbles, leaning his head back against the trunk.

Cougar kneels down in front of him. "You okay?" he asks.

Jensen continues to stare at the leaves above him. "Well. I'm tied to a tree - which, I might add, is a very uncomfortable way to sleep – but, that aside, I'd say the reason I'm tied to a tree is either there was some insane earthquake that I somehow slept through and I was put here for my own safety, or my dream of totally hulking out and then crying like a kid who just lost his puppy was actually real."

"You remember?" Cougar asks.

"Shit," Jensen says, blowing the word out in a sigh. "She's gonna kill me, isn't she?"

"No, I'm not going to kill you," Aisha says, walking up beside Cougar, "but don't think I didn't consider it."

She leans down, untying his bindings. He pulls his arms forward, rubbing at his shoulders, keeping one eye on her. She reaches a hand down offering to help him up, but he just looks at it, then up at the bandage on her neck.

"Aisha, I'm-" he starts.

"Save it, Jensen, I don't want your apology." She looks at Cougar, and that's all it takes for him to get the hint. He nods and walks off as she takes over his kneeling position in front of Jensen. He opens his mouth to speak.

"Shut up and listen," Aisha interrupts again. "I don't know how the hell you overheard us talking yesterday, and I sure as hell don't know what happened to you last night, but to me that only served to prove my point. Yesterday I was worried that you'd pass out again, and then we'd get killed while dragging your unconscious ass through the woods. Now I have to worry about you being the one doing the killing." He turns away from her, looking ashamed. When she speaks again, her tone is softer. "I like you, Jensen, you know I do, but something is seriously wrong with you. I'm just trying to look out for the rest of the team."

"I know," he says, then glances back over to her. "but I really don't want to be left here in the woods by myself, and Clay won't let that happen, anyway. So, since that option's out, I say we all just do our best not to poke the proverbial giant green muscley dude inside my brain until we figure out what's going on, okay"

She smiles. "I guess I can do that."

Clay calls over from a few feet away. "Jensen, Aisha, we gotta move. Finish your make-up session on the way."

She stands and holds her hand out to him, once again. This time he lets her help him up, groaning as he stretches out his back. Pooch walks over to him, handing him his glasses.

"You dropped these last night," he says.

"See. That's exactly why I should have kept the rubber band. I don't know why I listen to you, sometimes."

Pooch pats him on the shoulder. "Good to have you back to normal, man."

He walks off, Jensen following close behind rubbing at his neck.

"You guys seriously couldn't find something better to do with me than tie me to a freakin' tree? Really? I'm gonna need a serious massage when we get out of here."

"You're gonna need a bran scan when we get outta here," Pooch counters.

"...Yeah," Jensen says, then falls silent as he gathers up his gear for their next trek, not failing to notice that his gun and knife are nowhere in sight.

Max taps his fingers on the table in front of him.

"What do you mean, 'they're all gone?'" he asks the two gentlemen in suits sitting across from him.

"We mean exactly that, sir," one of the men explains. "Everything was stored in that computer, and despite our best efforts, they still managed to get through all our security measures."

"So, what?" Max asks, "It's just over? Done? Kaput? You have nothing to show for all my time and money?" He pulls out his gun and points it at them. "Because if that's the case, I really don't need to keep you gentlemen around any longer, now do I?"

"Wait, wait!" the second man says, waving his hands. "Let's not get hasty. The computer is completely wiped, yes, and it would be very difficult to start over from scratch. However, there is a way where we may not have to."

Max points the gun under the table, shooting the man in the leg. Ignoring the cries, he casually says, "I don't like the words 'may not.' Sounds like you aren't certain…but, you do have my attention. I'm listening."

Nervously, the first man continues to explain the situation as his associate whimpers beside him. "He meant, uh, we're positive we can recover our production methods if you can deliver us the man who stole them from us. We believe he may have been infected" - Max twitches his finger on the trigger – "I mean, we know the man has been infected, and if we can get him back, we can extract a sample from him in order to recreate the prototype."

Setting the gun in his lap, Max presses a hand to his head. "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" he sighs, "Your so-called soldiers are no match for this team. They're probably half way to Abu Dhabi by now."

"But sir, Abu Dhabi's on the other side-"

"It was a figure of speech, moron. God, why are geniuses so fucking dumb sometimes? Anyway, no matter, I'll get some men who actually know what they're doing to track down Clay's team." He stands, pushing himself away from the table. "You may want to get a doctor to look at that," he points out to the injured man as he makes his way to the door.

"Uh, sir?" the uninjured man tentatively calls out. "We'll need this man to be alive when you bring him in."

"You can't make this simple, can you?" Max says, shaking his head. "Fine. He'll be brought in alive.

"If it makes you feel better, sir, the extraction of the sample will kill him."

Max perks up, raising his eyebrows. "Yeah? Will it be painful?"

"Very," the man smiles, "Very painful, and very slow."

Max's grin spreads wide. "That does make me feel better. I'm glad you were the one I didn't shoot."

With that, he turns and walks out the door.

A/N: There we go - a little explanation...sort of...well, it's a start. *shrug*