Title : I Wouldn't Bet On It

Fandom : The Losers

Characters : The Team

Rating : PG-13

Written for the fic_promptly prompt of Losers, any character, noodling

Disclaimer : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

I Wouldn't Bet On It

So they'd been trekking through wilderness for heaven only knew how long. They were nowhere near where they'd been, nowhere near where they needed to be and nowhere near anything remotely civilized. They were safe. Isolated but safe and so when Clay called a halt for the day and told them to make camp, it was a bit of a surprise.

"Look round," he'd said only a little defensively when Roque had challenged the decision to stop so early. "You think we're going to find somewhere better further on? Anyway, we've made good time, we're not in any excessive rush, we stop now, we can bed down early and make a fresh start in the morning."

So it was still daylight, the camp was secured and they were just kicking back and The Pooch was bored. Jensen was sprawled boneless, soaking up the rays of the sun on the top of a flat rock, looking for all the world like he thought he was on a beach in Miami, but with decidedly more clothes because Clay does have some boundaries, even if Jensen doesn't. Cougar was checking his rifle because seriously they were all stationary what else would he be doing and Roque was sharpening his knives. Clay was . . . Pooch had no idea what Clay was doing but he was not in immediate sight so it seemed like a good time to stir up something.

"The Pooch is bored," he announced, watching as Cougar and Roque exchanged a look and a nod, followed by Roque holding up a knife and then placing it next to him, while Cougar reached for his pack, lifted out an elegant looking hip flask, shaking it to show it was still full and receiving an approving nod in return. Jensen didn't say a word, just shifted his arm so it lay across his face. "I said The Pooch is bored," Pooch replied, voice slightly louder.

There was no reaction from Jensen and Roque and Cougar were clearly waiting for something else to happen.

"Perhaps The Pooch will noodle," Pooch said grandiosely.

Cougar raised his eyebrows, Roque coughed and Jensen twitched ominously. All returned to peace until Pooch spoke again. "The Pooch is bored enough to noodle."

"Dude!" Jensen broke the silence as Roque handed over a knife to Cougar with a resigned 'I lost the bet' face. "Will The Pooch please stop disturbing the peace and quiet with referring to himself in the third person and talking about doodling. I don't care if you doodle. Doodle to your heart's content, just do it quietly!"

"The Pooch said nothing about doodling," Pooch retorted, poking Jensen with a stick. "He intends to noodle and I, for one, am certain he will noodle better than you could ever noodle!"

Roque nudged Cougar in the back gently with his foot and tilted his head. Cougar nodded and held up the knife he'd just received from Roque, while Roque nodded and held up another knife. They both set them down beside them.

"Stop betting on the outcome of this!" Jensen growled from under his arm. "I know what the pair of you are doing!"

"Are you game for a little competitive sport with The Pooch?" Pooch poked Jensen with the stick again, jerking forwards when Jensen grabbed the other end of the stick and pulled it sharply.

"Poke me with a stick again and I'll poke you with the stick and you won't like where it's going!"

"Noodling?" Pooch said simply, unperturbed by Jensen's threat.

"What the fuck is noodling?" Jensen groaned.

"It means going in the water and bare-"

Jensen shot up abruptly, screeching, "Nude! You want me to get in the water nude! That water there, with all the fish! Something might decide it wants to eat my-"

"Well, you could do it in the nude. I'm gonna keep my shorts on, bro. I never said anything about nude."

Jensen frowned warily. "You said bare. . ." he said.

"I said bare because you interrupted. I was igoing/i to say bare-handed," Pooch added. "Noodling is catching fish ibare-handed/i"

Jensen's frown didn't diminish but it did turn slightly more thoughtful. He turned his head towards Cougar, who shrugged in response. He grunted, pushed himself off the rock and stretched, before reaching for his belt and starting to undo it.

Once he'd removed his boots, he shimmied off his trousers, looked across at Pooch, "Come on, hurry up. If we're going to do this, let get on with it."

Pooch shed his own clothes and the two of them headed for the water. When Jensen reached the water first, Cougar held out his hand and Roque slapped the knife handle into his hand begrudgingly.

"So all I have to do is catch a fish?" Jensen clarified.

"All you have to do is catch a fish before The Pooch!" Pooch smirked in reply. "Wanna bet?"

Jensen nodded, "Cougs? The Honduran General's gun, if you please" Cougar nodded, reaching for Jensen's pack to retrieve the gun in question. "Pooch?"

"Roque? The pistol, if you please."

The two men shook on it before striding into the water.

"Go again?" Roque asked Cougar.

"On what?"

"I bet Pooch catches one first."

Cougar shook his head, "Jensen's not going to catch anything." He paused, then added, "Neither is Pooch," as the two men in the water both slapped hands into the water in pursuit of fish. Pooch lost his balance and sat down abruptly, while Jensen seemed to trip and head under the water head first.

"Seriously, you're not going to accept the bet?"

Cougar quirked an eyebrow, then said, "You think Pooch . . ." He hummed, then offered, "I think neither." He waited to see if Roque would accept his offer. Roque nodded sharply. They turned their attention back to the water where Jensen was back on his feet and pursuing a fish noisily.

"He'll frighten them all away!" Roque muttered.

Pooch stumbled and sat down again.

"Mind you, Pooch is spending enough time underwater to be one with the fish." As Pooch came back up again spluttering, Roque called, "Stop communing with the fish and catch one, asshole!"

The slapping and splashing continued for a while longer with neither man getting anywhere near close or so it seemed. Clay had returned and was sitting beside Roque. "What are they doing this time?" he asked.

"According to Pooch, they're noodling," Roque said blandly, smirking at Clay's amused bemusement. "Apparently it involves catching a fish in their hands."

Clay snorted, "Yeah, right! Like that's gonna happen. Seriously! How long have they been trying?"

Roque took a look at his watch. "Twenty minutes? Give or take."

Clay shook his head and settled back more comfortably with a yawn. "Let me know the outcome," he closed his eyes as if to go asleep.

All of a sudden there was a yell from the water that had all three of them shooting to their feet. "Yay! I rock! I am the awesomest most awesome awesome that ever awesomed. I rock noodling!" Jensen hoisted a huge fish out of the water into his arms, "Dinner anyone?"

"What?" Pooch objected, turning abruptly to see what Jensen was yelling about only to lose his balance yet again and plunge back under the water.

"Huh, who'd have thought?" Cougar said blandly. "Not bad for a first timer."

"That sucks," Roque growled. "I wanted my knives back."

Clay snorted, "If there's one thing you can count on . . . it's that Jensen will always surprise you when you least expect it."