She never expected to fall in love. It blindsided her in a way that few things did. She didn't even notice it until it was almost too late – until she lost him forever.
They were on a mission, of course. It when to shit, of course. Jensen nearly got himself killed in a spectacularly stupid fashion – of course. Cougar was pinned down behind a battered wall, firing shot after shot at their targets, but the angle was God awful and she wasn't really doing much more than distracting them, if that. There was sand in her hair, and the sun shone brightly in the sky, overexposing the entire fight like a scene from a movie.
Cougar's clip ran out of bullets, and she had to pause, wasting precious seconds fumbling for her spare, her fingers slick with sweat and blood. Just as she jammed the fucker home and rose to her knees to rain death on them again, an unnatural quiet swept over them all. She squinted from underneath the brim of her hat, ignoring the hairs raising on the back of her neck, ignoring the part of her that was screaming with panic. Sudden silence on the battle field was never a sign of something good.
She blinked and—
They had Jensen. He was on his knees, hands held harmlessly above his head, and they had a gun trained on him – close, but not close enough so that he could make a grab for it. They were smirking. They were laughing. They thought that they had the Losers in the palms of their hands, and they were right. Not even Roque was going to move when there was a chance that the bastards would blow Jensen's geek brains out.
It hit her, then, that she loved the juvenile, obnoxious, infuriating, charming man named Jake Jensen, and that he was going to die if they didn't do something, and that she was the only one who could do something, because no one could fire a gun like she could.
So even though the angle was bad, and the sun was glaring at her like an blazing angel, she cocked the gun, lined up her shot, and fired.
She hadn't even caught him yet, but he was hers, and no one was going to take him away from her.
Ready, Aim, Fire, The Losers
They were on a mission, of course. It when to shit, of course. Jensen nearly got himself killed in a spectacularly stupid fashion – of course. Cougar was pinned down behind a battered wall, firing shot after shot at their targets, but the angle was God awful and she wasn't really doing much more than distracting them, if that. There was sand in her hair, and the sun shone brightly in the sky, overexposing the entire fight like a scene from a movie.
Cougar's clip ran out of bullets, and she had to pause, wasting precious seconds fumbling for her spare, her fingers slick with sweat and blood. Just as she jammed the fucker home and rose to her knees to rain death on them again, an unnatural quiet swept over them all. She squinted from underneath the brim of her hat, ignoring the hairs raising on the back of her neck, ignoring the part of her that was screaming with panic. Sudden silence on the battle field was never a sign of something good.
She blinked and—
They had Jensen. He was on his knees, hands held harmlessly above his head, and they had a gun trained on him – close, but not close enough so that he could make a grab for it. They were smirking. They were laughing. They thought that they had the Losers in the palms of their hands, and they were right. Not even Roque was going to move when there was a chance that the bastards would blow Jensen's geek brains out.
It hit her, then, that she loved the juvenile, obnoxious, infuriating, charming man named Jake Jensen, and that he was going to die if they didn't do something, and that she was the only one who could do something, because no one could fire a gun like she could.
So even though the angle was bad, and the sun was glaring at her like an blazing angel, she cocked the gun, lined up her shot, and fired.
She hadn't even caught him yet, but he was hers, and no one was going to take him away from her.
She was going to kill anyone who tried.