Aftermath

Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.

A/N: It must be spring – the plot bunnies are hopping like crazy….

With a heartfelt groan Chance flopped down on the bed. He knew getting on those skates had been a bad idea. The last time he had felt this sore had been after they had rescued Isamu. Every single muscle in his body ached and right now he never wanted to move another millimeter again, ever. Even a hot shower hadn't really helped. On the other hand, seeing the broad, happy smile on Ash's face had been worth it. What he wouldn't give for a nice, relaxing backrub. But - as usual - there was no one around to ask. That is, if he would actually admit to anyone that he needed one in the first place. If only Ames hadn't moved out... Chance mentally stomped on that thought before he could finish it. That way lay only madness and heartbreak. He'd just have to deal with it as he always did - try to ignore it and hope it would go away on its own. He closed his eyes, hoping to get at least a little sleep before the next catastrophe happened.

"Chance? Are you okay? I heard about your first skating lesson and I know how I'd feel after trying something like that for the first time..." A voice from the direction of the bedroom door. Ames? What was she doing here? She wasn't supposed to be here. Or was she? Somehow it felt so right that she had showed up now. The mattress dipped as she sat down on the side of the bed and lightly stroked her hands from his shoulders all the way down to the small of his back and up again. The soft, gentle touch felt so good... An amused chuckle from behind told him that he hadn't quite managed to suppress a groan. "Thought so. You're tenser than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Good thing I brought something that will help." She took her hands away, but before he could muster enough energy to complain, he heard the slight scraping of some kind of tin being opened, then her hands were back, this time apparently slicked with some kind of oil. With broad, sweeping movements she spread the stuff all over his back, then she started kneading his shoulders, before working her way down his spine, alternating between using the heels of her hands and the tips of her fingers with just enough pressure to loosen the tense muscles without causing more pain. Whatever kind of massage oil she was using created a soothing, relaxing warmth, that seeped into his skin to dissolve something more than just the physical tension from an unfamiliar activity. He almost purred like a contented cat as she continued her gentle ministrations until he found himself drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Bright morning sunshine woke him up. Cautiously he tried to move, and was surprised to find that he wasn't quite as sore as he had feared considering just how many times he'd landed flat on his ass on the ice yesterday. Like bubbles of air floating up to the surface of a lake, dreamy images rose up into his memory. Images of Ames showing up in his bedroom and of the best massage he'd had in a VERY lomg time. Images that managed to make him blush as they became decidedly less dreamy. Too bad it had only be a dream - and would definitely stay one. Or would it...?