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Born a Loser, Always a Loser

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Summary: When Clay told Aisha that he didn’t have family, he meant it. How the hell was he supposed to know he had a son? Yet Another Xander’s Real Father fic; **Part of the August Fic-A-Day challenge**

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Movies > Losers, The(Past Donor)akatFR1522,9352425,23728 Aug 1114 Sep 11Yes

Born a Loser

Spoilers: BtVS through Season 6, the entire movie for The Losers
Disclaimer: Neither BtVS nor The Losers belong to me.
Timeline: Picks up right at the end of the movie, The Losers, when they’re watching Jensen’s niece’s soccer game, and AU after Buffy Season 6.
A/N: Admittedly, this is more plot bunny than ficlet, but I had to get this out of my head, especially after watching The Losers again and wondering how they could just be sitting there back in the US with Max still out there.

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This was chaos, pure and simple – and it was hilarious.

Clay shook with laughter as he, Pooch, and Cougar tried to hold Jensen back from going after the ref. Jensen was a crafty son of a bitch, though, and he managed to get away twice before they finally dragged his sorry ass off the soccer field.

It seemed like that was the end of it, but then the ref made one last comment to them – before they were out of earshot. Clay himself didn’t hear what the woman said because Jensen was still hollering in his ear, but Aisha heard, and the shit hit the fan once again.

She and Pooch’s wife had just been watching their little tussle, going back and forth between amusement and exasperation, but now suddenly she was up in the ref’s face, which of course made Jensen heartily clap and cheer her on.

Chuckling, Clay looked at Cougar and Pooch to make sure they had Jensen under control. They grinned back, so he let go and began to make his way toward Aisha.

Before he got half a dozen steps, however, his phone rang.

He knew who it was before he even looked at his phone, because the only other people who had this number were either standing right here with him, or they were dead.

It was Max, that fucking bastard, Max.

He immediately detoured from his original destination to take half a dozen steps toward the parking lot. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the rest of his team hadn’t noticed what he was doing yet, still caught up in Jensen’s madness, and a part of him was glad. Let them have a few more seconds of fun, because it sure as hell wasn’t going to last.

Setting his mouth in a grim line, he pulled out his phone and answered.

“What do you want?” he bit out.

“Oh, you know, a home cooked meal, a good martini, world domination,” Max replied glibly. “But right now? I’ll settle for tying up loose ends, and you, Colonel, are a loose end. You and your band of misfits.”

“So come and get me,” Clay immediately countered, even as he scanned the area for any threats. But there was nothing.

Max gave a short laugh. “My time is valuable,” he admonished. “That’s why you’re going to come to me. To get your son.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree. I don’t have a son,” Clay snorted.

“Huh, so you don’t know. And here I thought you were just another one of those dead beat dads plaguing our country,” Max replied, a thoughtful tone to his voice. “He’s yours, though. The blood test proves that. And he looks like you, too, poor kid. And wait…”

Then Clay heard Max give an order to whoever was with him, which was almost immediately followed by the sound of something hard hitting flesh. That brought a grunt of pain, then a weak laugh.

It was tough to tell, but it sounded like a kid, probably in his late teens or early twenties.

Clay silently swore, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his phone in his fist.

Max came back on the line. “Yup, he’s tough like you, too,” he revealed. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Maybe I should break him and build him back up again, see if he can replace Wade. That would make things more interesting, don’t you think? Anyway, you’ve got 48 hours. If you don’t believe me, why don’t you give Jessica Harris a call? I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

Then the line went dead.

Clay fought the urge to hurl his phone to ground.

Jessica Harris. He hadn’t heard that name in years. He knew who it was, though. He never forgot a face – or her husband’s, especially when it was chasing him down the street.

Did she have a kid? And was it really his?

Clay shook his head. It didn’t matter. If Max was telling the truth, some kid – his son – was being tortured and God knew what else. Even if it wasn’t true, Max wasn’t going to stop there.

Almost against his will, Clay looked over at the Petunias, who were back getting their asses kicked by the much larger, much tougher Marigolds, who looked more like rugby players than 11 year old girls.

What the hell were they thinking, coming back like this? They should’ve seen this coming. No one was safe, not with Max still out there. And maybe not even after that.

He heard his team walk up behind him. He slowly turned around and saw that they were all looking at him expectantly.

“Woman trouble again?” Pooch joked, though he had a worried look in his eyes.

Aisha glared at him. “It better not be,” she warned.

Clay ignored them both and straightened up. “Looks like we got ourselves another mission. Max just got personal,” he announced, making sure to look them all right in the eye as he spoke. “I won’t lie. We’ve got shit for intel, no real resources, and the odds sure as hell aren’t in our favor.”

A silence fell over his team as they absorbed what he had just told them. He saw the way Jensen’s gaze flickered over to his niece, the way Pooch’s hand tightened around his wife’s hand. And he felt like shit. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, though, so he just waited.

It was Cougar who broke the silence.

“Sounds like our kind of mission,” the sniper shrugged.

That was all it took for the others to fall in line. Clay saw it in their eyes.

He gave a clipped nod. “Come on, losers,” he ordered. “Let’s move out. We’ve got work to do.”

Starting with figuring out who the hell Jessica Harris’ kid was.

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