It all began in Florida, after a particularly draining op during which they had failed to get any new information on Max's whereabouts. By general consensus (meaning the four of them had overruled Clay), they had decided to take a few days off. Constantly pursuing your psychotic arch-nemesis could be very draining.

There had been a few suggestions about what to do, the most entertaining one coming from Jensen, who had said, "We could go up to Jersey and hunt down Snookie."

Aisha had given him a horrified look, too flummoxed to pretend she didn't know who or what a Snookie was. It was kind of sad that they all knew. "Why on Earth would you want to do that?"

"Someone's got to take her out before she contributes to the gene pool. You know it's only a matter of time."

While they had been unable to find fault in his argument, the idea had been vetoed, along with his suggestion that they just relax and chill by the pool. Unfortunately, a large group of stoners had taken up residence in the pool, floating around, using a blow up doll to hold their beers while they listened to loud ukulele music.

Some people were even more fucked up than the Losers.

They had been lounging around their shitty hotel in Orlando when Jensen, somehow contorted into a position where his head and shoulders were on the floor and his body extended up the wall, randomly commented, "I've never been to Disney World."

He'd said it in an off hand manner, slightly bored tone. It was the bored part that made his team mates sit up and take notice. A bored Jensen was a potentially scary thing. Aisha hadn't been there, but the others all remembered that time in Spain when Jensen had wandered back to the hotel (after taking off three days earlier because he was bored), reeking of peppermint, gin and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. His hair was streaked with blue and he had a fresh tattoo on his shoulder. Sipping a cup of coffee, he made his way toward the bathroom, calmly announcing, "I think someone might have declared a fatwa on me. Again."

No one wanted that to happen again. Especially not on US soil while they were trying to stay under the official radar.

Looks had been exchanged and Clay said, "Disney it is."

From his spot by the air conditioner, Pooch said, "Do they have metal detectors going into the park? Cause if they do, we need to leave the guns here."

After a rather impressive disarming, they left the hotel, feeling oddly light, as they didn't often wander around without an arsenal with which they could take over a small Eastern European nation. Ceramic knives were a lot lighter than their metal counterparts and wouldn't set off Park security, so they all had a few strapped somewhere on their person.

Hopefully, no one would have a chance to use one…though Pooch wouldn't put it past Aisha to shank one of those freaky dudes in the cartoon costumes if he (or she) chose to get handsy. If that happened, the happiest place on Earth could quickly become the bloodiest.

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The insanity started even before they entered the park. Clay, while convinced to leave his weapons behind, had been adamant that they should bring a cooler of food with them. Aisha had protested, saying they could simply buy anything they wanted. The counter argument had been, "Do you have any idea how expensive the food is in there? It's like a giant airport food court. 10 dollars for a hot dog adds up quickly when you're with someone who thinks it's fun to try to eat his body weight in processed sugar."

"One day I'll do it," Jensen muttered causing Clay to sigh.

"Aside from Jensen's quest for a Diabetic coma, I don't think a cooler would be allowed. Just toss some snacks in a bag. That's okay." As usual, Pooch was the voice of reason. Cougar had been thinking along the same lines, but he was usually content to sit back and watch the craziness unfold.

They were on vacation after all and it might have been funny to watch Clay throw down with Park Security. Because who could take someone wearing a Mickey Mouse shaped badge seriously. Though there was no way the potential show could top Roque's defeat at Santa's Village, when a pack of elves had taken the big man down.

That would forever be a classic.

The monorail to the park was full of screaming, overly excited children and their already beleaguered parents. Aisha eyed a particularly loud group of six year olds and muttered, "If that's not a good reason for birth control, I don't know what is."

Jensen looked away from the window he had been gazing out of to comment, "You know, maybe we didn't think this through. We're taking Aisha to Disney World. Isn't that like taking a vampire to church? Like, something that innocent," he paused to point at a tiny girl in a Little Mermaid shirt, "should not be within 500 feet of her."

Aisha scowled and Pooch snorted. "She hasn't negatively impacted Mike or Jess," Pooch pointed out, referring to his baby son and Jensen's niece.

"Mike can't even sit up by himself and Jess is a Jensen. Girl could already hack a system and build a potato launcher long before Aisha came into her world," the hacker said dismissively, then cocked his head to the side. "Which actually might say more about Jackie and me, but what the hell, the world is a harsh place and she's gonna survive."

With that comment, Jensen settled back into his seat and returned to looking out the window. Cougar looked at him from the corner of his eye. Until something like that fell out of Jensen's mouth, it was easy to forget that there was any real darkness in the younger man. He (and his sister) were just…slightly off. Neither ever spoke about their childhood and someone had done a thorough job of sanitizing the public records.

Not that any of them were entirely well adjusted. Pooch came the closest, but after years in their line of work, no one was untouched.

Jensen though, he had come into game already a bit wrong.

Cougar remembered the mission where he, Clay, Roque and Pooch had first encountered Jensen. They had been dispatched on a mission to recover either a missing unit or proof that said unit had been KIA. Creeping through a maze of tunnel like caves (Cougar hated fucking caves) in the middle of Afghanistan, they had heard a smashing sound and gone to investigate.

What they found was one Corporal Jake Jensen, bound to a wooden chair, throwing himself against a wall with enough force to shatter the wood. Their entry had startled Jake and Roque had been the recipient of a flung chunk of wood to the face.

"Stop that!" Clay had snapped, scowling at the man, who was clearly about to attack again. "We're here to save your dumb ass."

The change that came over the kid (Cause shit, he had looked so young, still baby faced and smooth under the blood and bruises) was instantaneous. Body relaxing, he shimmied out of the ropes still circling his skinny frame and grinned, flashing blood stained teeth in their direction. "All right, Lassie got the message out," he quipped, stepping towards them, pausing only to deliver a sharp kick to the body sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood.

You knew some crazy shit was going down when the bloody corpse was not the first thing to register when you entered a room.

Pooch had bent down and found the man's throat had been ripped out. That explained why Jensen looked like something out of a Romero movie, blood coating his lower face and chest thickly. Clearly, the kid had used whatever weapon was available to him and, bound to a chair, his teeth had been it.

"The rest of my team?" Jensen asked, taking both a knife and gun off of the corpse without so much as flinching. Cougar could appreciate that sort of practicality.

In the end, they had recovered one other member of Jensen's original, five man team and that man had take a medical discharge. When finally cleared to return to active duty (he'd had a nasty array of injuries that hadn't been obvious in the tunnels), Jake Jensen found he had a new posting waiting for him. He'd impressed Clay and the rest of the team and that was before they'd seen his computer voodoo in action.

Six years later, Jensen had filled out from the still scrawny 19 year old he'd been in that cave, but, when cornered, the fangs still came out. They were in a business where you wanted to know the man at your back would be willing to bludgeon someone to death with a dismembered limb. Maybe that was a little sick, but it was reality.

If they were honest with themselves, none of them should spend too much time around kids. There was still a faint hope that the next generation would avoid being as fucked up as they were.

But sometimes it was nice to pretend they were normal.

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After successfully making it into the park (there had been a moment of concern when Aisha thought one of the uppity, mouse badged minions was going to make a fuss over the beer in Clay's bag, but nothing had come of it. God bless whomever had decide to eliminate open container laws inside the park), they found themselves in Main St. USA, surrounded by shrieking tiny people, theme park kitsch and aggressively cheerful employees.

Amongst the motley array of groups present, she was sure they'd still manage to stand out. There were lots of families and groups of young people, as well as throngs of foreign tourists. Somehow, the crush of humanity seemed to absorb them and it was uncommonly nice not to stand out in the crowd.

They wandered along, passing the Dapper Dans, around which a crowd of children had gathered. Their caretakers were huddled nearby, keeping a half hearted eye on them. Jensen stopped, scowling at the parents. "See that? Total example of 'you bring your kids, I'll bring mine, they can entertain each other while we get shitfaced'. Lazy parenting."

She knew the hacker didn't have any kids of his own (the world was, in no way, ready for that), but they all knew he was actively involved with his niece's care whenever he was in New Hampshire. Soccer games, trips to parks, museums and generally spoiling the girl with love and attention. That was Jensen's take on appropriate child care.

A woman with what looked to be a bleached porcupine on her head, an orange spray tan and wedge heels tottered by, shrieking at the four small children she had tethered to her.

That got the hacker twitching and Aisha watched, amused, as Cougar laid a restraining hand on the younger man's arm and said, "No."

" I can't help it," Jensen almost whined. "I'm on a mission to free the leash kids. It's like liberating the Israelites from Egypt."

Sometimes, there was really no way to respond to Jensen, so Aisha simply said, "I want to ride Space Mountain."

There were nods all around and Clay smirked. "You know, Someone was beheaded on that ride."

"That's an urban myth, like Canada's independence or Carrot Top," Jensen shot back and before anyone could reply to that, he consulted a map and said, "Tomorrowland is that way."

TBC…