A/N: So I have absolutely no clue about military terms, so I apologize for how lame I'm sure this sounds.

xxxx

"Why the hell does everyone automatically assume that I'm the weakest link in this team?" Jensen groaned, holding an ice pack up to his rapidly swelling eye and dabbing at the split in his lip.

"It's the glasses," Pooch supplied, taking the beer Clay held out to him.

"Nah, the hair," Roque cut in. The rest of the team laughed, and Jensen rolled his eyes, then winced.

"Damn it. The next time someone tries to go through me instead of one of y'all, I'm gonna unleash a can of whoop-ass on 'em so big…"

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure that you'll hack into their computers, maybe empty out a few bank accounts," Roque said, and Jensen glared at him with his good eye.

"I'm not the weakling you guys think I am," he declared, waving his ice pack in their direction. "I could take them."

"Like you did today?" Clay asked, raising an eyebrow.

"So they got in a few punches. I could've held my own without Cougar saving my ass."

Cougar shook his head.

"It did not look like that to me," he said. Jensen turned his glare toward the sniper. "It looked like you were getting your ass handed to you. I would have let you continue if I thought you could actually win."

Jensen flipped Cougar off in response, and the sniper didn't even try to hide his snicker.

"You just wait. You'll see. I can be badass too."

xxxx

As it turned out, they didn't have to wait long. It was a seemingly basic data retrieval mission with Jensen sneaking in to steal files and the rest of the team acting as backup and support. Of course, things didn't always go exactly to plan, and this was one of those occasions.

"Shit. Bowie, there are at least seven tangoes headed your way," Cougar hissed over his headset, and he could hear Roque swear in response.

"I'm already dealing with four guys here. Alpha, if you get some free time, I could use a hand over here."

"Acknowledged, Bowie, but I'm a bit tied up here. Gidget, how are you looking?" Clay asked, addressing the driver of their getaway car. Actually, it was a van this time, a loud advertisement for carpet cleaning splashed on the side.

"So far so good, Alpha, no one's seen me, but it's only a matter of time. Tell Tech-boy to hurry it up."

"Napster, hurry it up in there," Clay barked.

"I'm just about done. Keep your pants on, Alpha." Clay grit his teeth at Jensen's characteristic snark, then turned back to the matter at hand- disarming three very large, very pissed off security guards.

"Holy hell man, where are all these guys coming from?" Roque muttered. He grinned when a well-placed bullet from Cougar hit its mark and one of the men he was fighting dropped.

"I don't know," Clay responded, breathing heavily. "We were a bit misinformed on this one."

"That's for sure- damn it! Napster, you've got two tangoes heading your way. You need to get out of there."

There was no response from Jensen, and Clay felt his heart rate rocket up a little more.

"Napster! Do you copy?"

More silence.

"Damn it! We need to get up there. Napster could be incapacitated, and we do not want those files compromised."

"Copy that, Alpha. I'll be right there to provide support."

"Negative on that, Gidget, you need to stay out front and be ready to go as soon as we come out front. Cover our exit."

"Copy."

"Bowie, meet me up there as soon as you can get away."

"Copy that, Alpha."

Clay finally dispatched the last man he was fighting and barreled up the stairs toward the office room where Jensen was supposed to be working.

What he found was not what he was expecting.

Jensen was methodically beating the crap out of one of the men, and the other was already out cold, his face and head bloodied.

Jensen was beating him with a laptop, and he was telling him (between curses) that he was, in no uncertain terms, anything but a pansy.

Clay stood in stunned silence for a moment, turning when he heard Roque come up behind him.

"Daaamn," Roque whistled, drawing the word out into two syllables. Jensen looked up, glasses askew.

"Oh. Hey guys."

"Hey? That's all you've got to say?" Clay demanded loudly. "Why the hell weren't you answering earlier?"

"Oh. My headset fried out."

"You're our comm/tech guy. How the hell did that happen?"

Jensen shrugged. "Guess I should've checked the batteries." Clay rolled his eyes and quickly let Pooch know that they were headed out, then told Cougar to meet them at rendezvous. As they walked, he glanced over at Jensen, simultaneously proud of and startled by the splatters of blood on the hacker's face. Then he realized what he was carrying…

"Jensen, what the hell did you do to that laptop?"

"Oh. This isn't mine," Jensen said with another shrug, and Roque swore.

"So that's the laptop with all our info on it? You just blew our mission, jackass."

"Nah, I already got the info in my hard drive. This laptop is a piece of shit, I just stole it to piss the guy off. But, come to think of it," he murmured, inspecting the computer and its bloodied, dented surface, "I don't think I need it."

So saying, he chucked it into the nearest trashcan before pulling his glasses off and cleaning the blood from them.

"Damn," Roque repeated, chuckling. "Didn't think you had that in you, Geek-boy. That right there, that was badass."

Jensen stopped still for a second, his mouth hanging open, before regaining some composure.

"Well of course it was," he said, smirking. "I told y'all I would take out the next person who attacked me, and I did. When Jensen says he delivers, he delivers."

Clay's eye-rolling was practically audible, but Jensen didn't let up. Not when they got outside, not when they got into the van, not when they started driving away.

"What happened?" Pooch asked, sounding annoyed.

"Jensen beat the shit out of two guys with a laptop, and Roque told him he was badass," Clay answered. Cougar groaned.

"Now he will never shut up," he muttered. Jensen glared at him.

"Well maybe if you guys hadn't been giving me so much crap about being a pansy, this wouldn't be such a big deal. As it is, I feel perfectly justified in rubbing it in your…"

"You know what?" Pooch said suddenly. "This reminds me of a song."

With that, he cranked up the volume on the radio, and 'Don't Stop Believing' came blasting over the speakers.

Clay, Cougar, and Roque all busted up laughing as Jensen glared toward the front seat.

"Oh, yeah, this is really funny guys. Ha ha, Pooch," he grumbled, crossing his arms.

The rest of the team just laughed harder, and Pooch and Roque joined the next chorus, singing loudly and off-key.

Jensen sulked all the way home.