'ohule, Jensen/Cougar, 1/1

[gilascave]

Title: 'ohule
Author: james
Rated: PG
Word Count: 2097
Pairing: Jake Jensen/Cougar Alvarez
Fandom: The Losers plus bonus crossover appearance by Danny Williams
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit made
Notes: written for the Ante Up Exchange
Summary: domestic fluff, Losers style. How is this my life, Clay wants to know.



"Is this even safe?" Jensen asked, sitting at the shop's only table that he'd commandeered as his workstation. There were already four laptops open on it, but for some reason -- Clay didn't ask, he never asked -- the hacker was working on a small handheld device.

Clay didn't ever try to identify the gizmos Jensen used, because it seemed like he was always about two years behind the times. Or probably two months, given how quickly Jensen's toys seemed to get passed on to Pooch as "obsolete, you might as well play with it." Pooch bitched about the insult but took them anyway, because what was obsolete for Jensen was still cutting edge for normal people.

For now, Clay just glanced over and realised yet again he couldn't tell if Jensen was about to blow something up, or if he was hacking into a Swiss bank, or just playing ninja ropes. Clay scowled at him when Jensen looked up. "Of course it isn't safe," Clay told him. "When is it ever safe?"

Jensen shrugged. "There's levels of safe. As I understand it, hiding out on US soil when the US government is trying to have us killed..again...for real this time, I mean. Or arrest us -- do you think they'd be content to just arrest us or would it depend on which branch of the goverphumph." There was a pause, then Jensen looked sideways at Cougar, whose hand was covering Jensen's mouth. Jensen raised his eyebrows, and Clay was not pleased to discover that he could translate the gesture into a sentence or two of Jensen-speak.

What the hell are you doing, Cougs, it wasn't like I was even babbling this time.

Clay would have disputed that, but then he realised he could translate Cougar's silent reply, with the twitch of a finger over Jensen's mouth. Jensen has just licked him and Cougar is promising him he'd better do more than that, later. Dear God, if I don't interrupt them soon I'll have to leave the shop and lock the door behind me right now, Clay told himself.

He couldn't quite work up more than a mild annoyance, though, at the interruption to their mission, which was to stay alive long enough to, well, stay alive. It was the sun, Clay was willing to bet. The sun and the beach and the endless parade of women in bikinis. It was hard to maintain a good mad-on in Hawai'i.

"Yes, Jake," Clay sighed. "It is not safe, no matter who finds us. Which is why we're here under false names and false pretenses and why you were told, when we arrived, to keep an eye on any local authorities who might turn their attention our way. Should I even ask if you've made any headway with any of our mission parameters?"

Jensen boggled his eyes at Clay -- Cougar still hadn't removed his hand, and Clay was hoping it might stay that way for awhile longer. But Jensen glanced at Cougar, made a face, then began using his eyebrows to explain that he couldn't possibly be expected to have finished everything in the short time since they'd arrived.

Clay rubbed a hand over his face. They'd been together far too long, and he'd had a very long day already. Clearly.

Maybe he should head down to the beach to look for Pooch and Aisha, and leave Cougar and Jensen to their own devices for a few hours. He had his mouth open to announce his intentions when the door to the shop banged open and a man walked in. Clay could see 'cop' written all over him and he felt himself tense. He glared quickly at Jensen, who was supposed to have warned him about being discovered, and found that at least Cougar had dropped his hand away from Jensen's mouth and was casually standing beside him, looking as innocent as it was possible for their sniper to look.

Clay would have arrested them all on the spot, but hopefully the cop wouldn't be quite so perceptive. He turned to face the man, stepping forward just enough to maybe take the man's attention away from Jensen, who was the one most likely to start babbling and get them all arrested for things they hadn't actually even done. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Jensen's indignant look and Cougar's smirk.

"Can I help you?" Clay asked quickly, trying to avoid another international incident. At least this guy probably wasn't a royal prince who would mistake Jensen's flirting for a marriage proposal.

The man held up his badge, giving each of them a quick look-over. His suspicious expression grew sharper, and Cougar just looked even more innocent -- which not even Clay could pretend made him look like he'd been up to nothing.

"I wondered if anyone here knew anything about a group of three gangbangers who were found tied up and gagged a few stores down," the cop said without preamble.

Clay wondered if he should point out the legal loophole of answering questions to someone who had barely flashed an ID and not actually identified himself. But if the man were a real cop -- and every instinct was saying he was -- then showing too much familiarity with the law was a good way to get himself detained and escorted down to the station for questioning.

On the other hand, Clay could honestly say, "What gangbangers?"

The man ignored his question. "Because you see," he said, and he began wandering further into the shop, poking at the mostly empty shelves and brushing his finger through a fine layer of dust, which he examined before wiping his hands on a handkerchief. Evidence, Clay's mind filled in, unhelpfully. They hadn't really done anything illegal since arriving, except by simply existing when they were supposed to be officially dead. Clay didn't know what trace elements could be found in the dust that had coated everything when they'd arrived and set up in the deserted store front.

They'd re-directed nosy neighbors with tall tales about a computer repair shop, open in a couple weeks and be sure to look out for our grand opening. Pooch and Aisha had kept themselves busy exploring the area like newly arrived haole, acting friendly and asking a million questions and generally keeping an ear out for suspicions about their activities. Jensen and Cougar had stayed indoors, more or less, with Jensen on his computers and Cougar helping Clay fix up the shop in case they ended up staying for long enough to need to turn the fiction into reality. Cougar and Jensen also spent a lot of time upstairs in their shared room, taking advantage of the fact no one was shooting at them or burning down any buildings.

Clay was fairly sure none of them had done anything about any.... Crap. He controlled his expression, because two nights ago Aisha and Cougar had come back from picking up dinner, and they'd both been relaxed and happy and sharing little smiles and not answering questions about what had made them half an hour late.

He shot a quick look at Cougar, What have you done? while the detective was busy looking over the tops of Jensen's laptops, reading the screens upside-down. Clay was fairly sure Jensen would have done something intelligent like switch over whatever he'd been doing to something innocent. Hopefully more innocent-looking than the bland look Cougar was giving back to Clay.

"I find it interesting, is all," the cop said, having satisfied himself with whatever he'd seen. He leaned against the desk and crossed his legs, waving one hand on the air to punctuate his words. "Here we are, on the very edge of two rival gang territories, a neighborhood with a sharp rise in crime over the last six months. And within days of you and your associates moving in, suddenly gang members are being found by the local cops, trussed up and left waiting with a very helpful note explaining why they should be arrested. They were, by the way," the cop added. "The video tape was very useful in that regard."

Jensen smiled smugly -- then his expression flashed back to innocent and full of denial as soon as he saw Clay scowling at him.

The cop kept talking like he was unaware of the by-play. "The governor is very concerned about the safety of these unknown citizens who have taken it upon themselves to assist the local police force." He turned to Clay, and Clay was trying frantically to spin a story about how they'd just happened along, and it was nothing really, and they used to be bodyguards and trained to take down pests like that.

The cop smiled at him, tight and definitely a little unhappy. "Imagine our surprise when we discover the Losers have set themselves up on our little island."

Clay kept his jaw from dropping, just barely. He unclenched his fist and had to hold up his hand to stop Cougar from doing...whatever it was he was about to do. So the local authorities knew they were here. He'd yell at Jensen, later, though he noticed their hacker was typing frantically on one laptop, no doubt trying to figure out what he'd missed. His bewildered shrug of apology didn't do much to alleviate Clay's ire.

Then Clay stopped. This man -- this one man, a plainclothes detective, had come in alone and told them he knew who they were. It wasn't what he would expect from a police force who wanted to arrest them, or escort them to the nearest port.

The detective suddenly smiled. "I'm used to this, believe me. Insane people driving me off cliffs and blowing up hotels has become quite, unfortunately, normal for me. And while I'm sure you're wondering just when the SWAT team is going to come sailing through the windows, let me assure you that the reason I'm here is to ask you for a favor. If you want to blow something up, please call us, first." He held out a card, and Clay blinked, then found himself taking it. He glanced at it, and read, Detective Danny Williams, Hawai'i Five-0.

He looked at Detective Williams, who beamed at him, then looked over at Jensen. "My boss, Commander Steve McGarrett," he paused as Jensen's fingers typed madly. He waited -- clearly understanding that Jensen was calling up records.

After another second Jensen's head popped up and said, "He's a SEAL!"

Detective Williams inclined his head. "That he is. He recognised you all from a surveillance video while we were working on another case. He'd be here himself, but he managed to break his leg in two places and he hasn't quite managed to untie himself and escape his hospital bed, yet. If he were here, I think he'd be asking for autographs. However, what I want is to remind you that some of us are more civilized. So, on behalf -- unofficially -- of the state of Hawai'i, if you need to arrange for a gunfight, or explosions, or stolen aircraft, please call us first. Possibly we can help, or at least I can get Kono to film it for Steve, since he won't be able to come watch it in person."

Feeling mildly stunned, Clay had no clue what to say. He stared at the cop, wondering if this was a very convoluted way of getting them to incriminate themselves.

Jensen jumped up, however, waving a laptop in front of Clay. "Look at their records! These guys have destroyed more cars than Pooch has all year!"

Clay glanced at the screen, then back at the detective. "You're not here to threaten us to leave," he said slowly, not quite sure he'd followed the conversation."

"No," Williams said. Then he sighed. "I'm here because my psycho insane partner is a fan."

Jensen laughed, and Clay rubbed one hand across his face. He heard Cougar clear his throat, then he held out his hand. Clay saw he was holding a piece of paper. On it was drawn a small outline of a cat. A cougar.

"Oh, let me!" Jensen grabbed it and scribbled something before handing it out to Williams again. Clay saw a picture of a stick figure wearing glasses, sitting beside the cougar with his arms wrapped tightly around it. One hand might have been intended to be doing something obscene.

Clay just dropped his head, then accepted the paper when Williams held it out.

"How is this my life," he muttered, as he took the pen from Jensen's hand.