A/N: Ya know, I always forget to do the disclaimer thing...though I think it's safe to assume that on here, everyone fully admits to not owning the original material. It is a fanfiction site, after all...

I love the reviews, folks! It's nice waking up in the morning to see your inbox full of alerts, faves, and messages with people screaming at you for cliffies and calling you evil and such, lol. I live for that! Thanks, everyone!

The team quickly maneuvers through the darkening woods, a small arsenal strapped to their bodies. Clay is leading with Aisha right behind him, Pooch and Jensen are in the middle, and Cougar is bringing up the rear. As they move, Pooch keeps stealing little glances over at Jensen, who finally stops, nodding as he turns towards him.

"I have a big ugly spider on my head, don't I," Jensen asks calmly, pauses, then immediately drops his shoulder bag and starts slapping at his head.

Pooch sighs, watching Jensen's little panic dance for a few seconds before speaking. "Stop that, you look like a retarded monkey. There's no spider."

"There's no spider?" Jensen asks, freezing in place with on hand still on his head.

"No spider," Pooch assures him, then adds, "baby."

Jensen notices the others are now all staring at him. "It's okay, everyone, there is no spider. Abort the spider-killing mission. I repeat, that is an abort. You can all go back to your regularly scheduled fleeing through the woods."

When they begin to move again, Jensen looks at Pooch. "Soooo, is there something you wanna tell me? I mean, I know I'm pretty to look at and all, but you weren't exactly giving me the 'oh, please, do me now' eyes…Not that I would want you to, because that'd just be really weird, especially after you kissed me and all."

"I swear to God, man, if you mention that one more time…," Pooch warns.

"What? You're gonna hurt me? Oooh, I'm so scared!" he teases. "Especially since I know the reason you keep looking at me is probably because you're worried about the whole almost-drowning thing; and I'm touched, really, but I assure you, I'm fine. I don't have hypothermia, the boys are back in their summer home, I have Sasha, here, too keep me company" he pats his bag, "and there are no holes in my body where there shouldn't be. Everything's yankee-doodle-dandy."

Pooch looks at him, flabbergasted. "There's a computer in that bag? That box was supposed to be for weapons only. Why the hell did you bring a computer?"

"You have your weapons, I have mine," Jensen smiles, "And, yes, mom, I remembered to pack the healthy snacks, too." He holds up his gun as proof, then also points to a knife strapped to his leg.

"Yeah, you're fine," Pooch mumbles, shaking his head before picking up his pace a little.

"What?" Jensen calls after him, "What'd I do?"

A soft voice suddenly speaks up behind him, startling him. "You're being too quite," Cougar says as he steps up to keep pace with him.

"I'm being too quiet?" Jensen scoffs. "I'm being too quiet, says the guy that uses so few words that I can actually keep a running count of his vocabulary."

Cougar simply smiles and nods. Jensen falls silent for another few seconds, nodding his own head at first in understanding, then shaking it in complete confusion.

"What does that even mean, 'you're being too quiet?' Isn't that the whole idea of escape, here? We keep quiet so the bad guys can't hear us? How am I possibly being too quiet?"

"Because normally you're not," Cougar explains matter-of-factly. "Normally you're only quiet during covert ops…and when you sleep."

Jensen gasps, feigning hurt feelings. "That is not true! I don't talk during movies, because that is just disrespectful, and I don't talk at funerals, or weddings, or….or…" he snaps his fingers, "or when the bingo lady is calling out the numbers. There are plenty of times when I'm quiet. Quiet as a mouse after it's been swallowed by the snake. Ha!"

"Sometimes," Cougar adds, "the mouse still screams from the inside as the stomach acids eat its flesh."

Jensen stops walking. "Oh, that's just - dude, now I'm gonna have nightmares. Thanks. Thank you, Cougar, for that horrible mental image. You know what? You can go back to being creepy, quiet Cougar, now. You're just plain scary when you talk. Jesus!"

He continues to ramble on as they walk. At the front of the group, Clay leans back a little to talk to Aisha.

"That normal enough for you?" he asks her.

"I think I liked it better when he wasn't acting normal," she responds, and Clay laughs.

Aisha is sleeping soundly when she is suddenly snapped to full consciousness by a hand covering her mouth and the cold steel of a knife pressing against her neck. She starts to struggle, but stops when the blade bites into her flesh, creating a small, but still painful, cut.

A hushed voice cuts through the darkness. "You think you can just stroll into our territory and do whatever you want?" it says, sounding dangerously angry. "You strut around acting like you're tough shit, playing at being boss, being the alpha bitch of the pack; but I've got news for you, you stupid whore. You're nothing but a jack russell terrier biting at the ankles of a family of pit bulls. Eventually, one of them is going to bite back."

The blade starts to slowly draw down her neck, opening the previous cut into a deeper, wider one. She lets out a small, pained moan against her attacker's hand; and then suddenly the weight on her body is gone, disappearing backwards into the darkness. With lightening fast speed, she rolls onto her feet, her gun pointing towards the sounds of an intense struggle before her.

A hand reaches out, forcing her to lower her weapon. "Don't," Cougar says, handing her a flashlight before he rushes into the chaos. She lifts it, shining it before her in time to see Cougar, Pooch, and Clay forcing Jensen to his knees, pinning his arms behind him. He lets out an agitated scream as he goes down.

Still pulling against their hold on him, Jensen looks up, his eyes flashing in the light. His glasses having been lost in the struggle, there is nothing hiding the venomous, and pained, look he shoots at her.

"I thought we were friends!" he shouts.

"We are," she says coolly, "or at least we were 'til you put a knife to my neck."

"Traitorous bitch!" he screams. "Don't fucking lie to me! I heard you back there! I heard every last fucking word!"

Clay glances up at her and they share a knowing look. Jensen twists against the grip on his arms one last time before frustration and fatigue win over. He relaxes forward as he starts to cry, his body heaving as his tears quickly become wracking sobs. Clay gives the nod for everyone to let go, and Jensen brings his hands up to his face, pressing his forehead to the ground. Pooch looks down at him, then back up at Clay.

"What the fuck is going on?" he asks.

"I wish I knew," Clay answers, resting a hand on Jensen's shoulder as he cries.