The light outside the dirty window was fading, but it was still quite warm. Jensen was sprawled across the couch, with his laptop on his chest. Cougar was sitting in the single ratty chair, his hat pulled down across his eyes. His chest rose and fell slowly. Pooch was out on the balcony, talking to his wife on the phone. Jensen groaned.
"I can't get through without the key! And we can't even start planning the break-in until tomorrow night. Whoever wrote this code knew their shit." He sighed, putting his laptop on the coffee table, and stretching. His muscles rippled, and his back popped from being hunched over so long. Looking around, and seeing no one to talk to, he ambled over to the small kitchenette. It was miniscule, actually, housing a mini-fridge, microwave, sink, and two stools. Jensen's stomach rumbled. He could really go for a hotdog right now… They were his favorite food, as a matter of fact. Topped with relish, mustard, ketchup, and cheese…mmmmm….As he opened the mini-fridge, he heard a moan. Turning with a slight frown, he tilted his head, trying to find where the noise had been coming from. Again, he heard a moan, and a grunt. His eyebrows rose, and a wicked grin stretched across his features. Those sounds were coming from Clay's room. Another feminine moan, higher-pitched this time, emanated from the small, one-bed room, and Jensen slowly closed the fridge door. A screech distracted his attention. Pooch came off the balcony, stowing his phone in his pocket, and rubbing his hands together. The scent of cigarettes, alcohol, garbage, and cooking meat floated up from the street.
"Jensen, it's freezing out there man, I swear I nearly froze in place with that woman chattering in my ear," Pooch complained, but with a small smile. He really did love his wife. "Uh, Jensen…why are you grinning at me like that?" Pooch looked uncertain. Jensen shushed him, flapping a hand. Pooch opened his mouth to argue, but Jensen shushed him again, with an accompanying glare. Listen, Jensen mouthed, and pointed towards Clay's room. Pooch gave him a look, but turned his head nonetheless and listened. A feminine shriek, and a loud, low grunt rang through the silent kitchen. Pooch guffawed. Jensen covered his own mouth with his hand.
"Is that Clay and Aisha?" Pooch whispered. Jensen shrugged.
"Maybe. It's definitely Clay, and of all the places we've stayed for missions, he never took a woman back to the room." That was by and large Jensen…or rather; Jensen wanted it to be Jensen. The women typically rejected his advances. Pooch crept cautiously to his bag, and grabbed a small video recorder. They both giggled as Pooch flicked it on with a small beep. Padding ever-so-slowly down the hall, Pooch kept it glued to his eye. More shrieks, moans, and groans could be heard as they came closer to Clay's closed door. A thumping could be heard as well. Jensen stuffed his fist into his mouth to keep from laughing, and Pooch had tears of mirth running down his cheeks. He fought to keep the camera steady. As they reached the door, they held the camera to the keyhole, but they could see nothing but rumpled bed sheets. The thumping -something hitting wood- could be heard louder now, and the moans and grunts were rhythmic. Jensen slowly reached for the handle, and turned it, freezing as it creaked once. Opening the door the smallest crack, they stuck the camera's lens through. With another grunt, something heavy flew through the air and hit the door, breaking into small pieces. Pooch jumped and accidently flung the door open. Jensen froze as his gaze fell on Aisha, standing on the bed with a bloody lip and scratched knuckles. He turned his head slowly as the grin on his lips died. Clay next to the bed, his fist pulled back, poised to strike, and the other guarding his face and neck. Pooch gulped. Clay relaxed his hands, and Aisha rolled her shoulders, hopping down from the bed.
"What is going on here?" He asked in his thunderous voice. Jensen laughed nervously.
"Nothing, I-uh, that is to say, Pooch here had the idea- we wondered what-not my fault…" He trailed off under Clay's gaze. Pooch elbowed Jensen.
"Pooch had the idea?" Jensen opened his mouth to retaliate, but was cut off by Aisha.
"I believe I can shed some light on this situation, Clay," She said, each word dripping with danger. "Jensen here probably heard us sparring, and being the youngest, least mature, least developed, and least experienced, imagined us to be doing something slightly friendlier, involving less clothing. Considering his tender age and slight social retardation, it's safe to say he planned to videotape us having sex, for blackmail use at a later date." Jensen's mouth dropped open slightly. Pooch covered his mouth to stop his chuckling. Clay's eyebrows rose, and Aisha smirked slightly.
"Pooch was easily roped into Jensen's scheme. He probably missed immaturity, now that he's a father. And Cougar, I imagine, was simply there to keep an eye on things."
