...
A Chance/Ilsa fic.
...
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Human Target.
...
A/N: PatsSoxFanGirl79 requested I write Chance and Ilsa's perspective of my fic "Chocolate Soufflés and Meddling Sisters", so this one's for her.
You don't have to read the other one to understand this.
I hope you guys like this one, I know I'll love writing it.
As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!
...
For someone who was supposed to be as alert and observant as he, this whole thing had done a damn good job of sneaking up on him. Slithering right up behind him, all quiet and poised, ready to pounce on him at just the right moment.
In this case, the 'right moment' just happened to be taking place in one of San Francisco's fancier restaurants.
He was told the client would be wearing a brown evening dress, with a white rose on the table. He'd found it odd, but he had figured that hiding in plain sight worked for some people. So, considering the quality of the restaurant he would be meeting his contact at, he'd thrown on one of his nicer suits, made sure his shoes were the right match, and headed for the restaurant to meet whoever else needed his help this week.
What he'd seen waiting for him hadn't even entered his mind as a possibility.
"Guerrero said -"
"I thought Connie was -"
Both of them stopped, Ilsa looking up at him with an expression that melded amusement, annoyance, and embarrassment.
"Well ... didn't see that one coming," Chance stated, sitting down at the table.
Ilsa fiddled with her napkin, nodding her head slightly. "Indeed. This is a tad embarrassing."
Chance nodded, sitting back in his seat. "We should be upset, right? That we've basically been conned into a blind date?"
Ilsa looked up, meeting his eyes. "Very upset."
"Just so we're on the same page," Chance clarified, picking up a menu. "So, what's good here?"
Ilsa grinned, picking up her own menu. "Everything looks a little appealing, I must say."
They sat in silence for a moment, until the waiter came over to get their drink order. Chance perused the wine menu, selecting a mid-priced one that sounded tasty. After a second, he changed his mind, selecting the most expensive wine on the list. After the waiter left, Chance explained to Ilsa, "We'll be sending Connie and Guerrero the bill for the evening. Sound fair?"
"Sounds perfect," Ilsa replied, folding her napkin down in her lap. Tilting her head, she glanced around the restaurant. Couples were dining all around them, the room filled with chatter and laughter, and waiters rushing gracefully from table to table, eager to meet the every whim of their customers to ensure a fat tip at the end of the evening. "Do you suppose they're here ... in the restaurant?"
Chance glanced around, trying to spot them. "Probably. Knowing Guerrero, he's somewhere where we can't see him."
"Connie as well," Ilsa agreed. "I must say, I never would have pegged Mr. Guerrero for such childish antics. Connie, absolutely, but not Mr. Guerrero."
Chance shrugged. "I'm sure he's getting something out of it."
Ilsa nodded at that, knowing the attraction for her sister-in-law that the shorter man held. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to make the best of it."
Chance caught her eye, holding her gaze for a long moment. "What did you have in mind?" He left the question there, allowing the tension and flirtation to settle calmly over the table.
The waiter brought the wine over, pouring a small amount into each of their glasses before retreating once again.
Both seemed to sense the change in their relationship at the same time - almost like a distinctive click! that happened in the air above them.
"Well ... I don't know about you, but I've just gotten this intriguing new set of sheets sent over from Egypt. The thread count is quite high, but I've been meaning to get a second opinion," she told him. "Would you care to accompany me to my apartment and have a ... gander?"
Chance's eyebrows twitched in anticipation, thinking of all the fun that could be had on such expensive sheets. As he pondered that, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned to see Guerrero talking to a waiter on the other side of the room. He caught the other's man eye, noticing the playful twinkle that could only mean one thing - he was planning on getting lucky that night.
So, maybe Connie's meddling had worked in both of their favors. He would give Guerrero a hard time about it after the weekend ... after he'd given those sheets a thorough inspection. But, right now ... he thanked his friend with a quick wink, and looked back at Ilsa.
"I think that's a great idea," he told her, lifting up his glass and holding it up for her. "To Egyptian Cotton."
"To meddling sisters," Ilsa agreed, clanking her glass with his with an unconcealed grin on her face.
...
The end.
Well, what did you guys think of that one? Like it, hate it?
Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.
Until next time ...!