Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Human Target, unfortunately.

Orion didn't want to hear gunshots. He didn't want to hear alarms, shouting, or rushing footsteps but he most especially didn't want to hear gunshots. While the others signaled that the guards were searching for him, gunshots meant that they had found him and were currently trying to kill him. And somehow, despite his best efforts, security had found him.

He ducked down behind a sofa when he heard footsteps coming closer. Casting a subtle Notice-Me-Not charm, he held his breath, waiting for the guard to pass by. Although he had restrictions on his magic, such as never using it outright to finish a job, it provided a helping hand when his life was in danger, like now, for example. He heard the man enter the room he was hiding in, searching. He tensed as the footsteps drew closer; trying to calm himself down before he gave his position away.

"No sign of the assassin in the South wing," came a squawk of a radio.

"All clear in the East wing," the man replied from above him. He cast his eyes about the room once more, before hurrying out of the room.

Orion sighed in relief, getting up to find a way out of the mess he had landed in. He was halfway to the window, before pausing as a thought came to him. Had the man on the radio said assassin? If there was in fact another player in the museum, at least Orion was reassured that the guards hadn't actually found out what he had done. His comforting train of thought was broken by the sound of alarms resonating from the room he was standing in.

'Shit, they must have restored the power, the alarms are back on.'

He ran out of the room, down the hall and into another room before the security found him. Standing close to the door, he watched as they ran into the room, guns out. Orion waited until they were all in the room then stealthily crept out and continued down the hall. He would just have to find another exit. Maybe the window of the curator's office. From the plans, it didn't look like that window had alarms. Although it was three floors up, it had a balcony. Now all Orion had to do was get there without being seen and killed.

He hurried down the hallway, anxious at being in plain sight, when he heard shouts behind him. Apparently he had been spotted. He ran, not even stopping to look behind him. He skidded around a corner, not bothering to waste precious seconds by looking where he was going. Unfortunately, had he done so, Orion probably wouldn't have walked right into a Mexican standoff.

It seemed that the guards had finally caught up to the assassin that had caused them and Orion so much trouble. There were 4 guards with handguns facing a man with long dirty blond hair and round glasses holding a machine gun. Regrettably for Orion, his stumbling into the scene attracted the attention of both parties, resulting in those guns being pointed at him. He quickly held up his hands in the universal gesture of 'unarmed'.

"I…I was just looking for the bathroom! There was no one at the front desk and I really need to go." He stuttered, hoping they would fall for it, but seeing the looks he was getting, he doubted it.

Apparently the man with the machine gun saw Orion as a good distraction and started shooting at the guards. As soon as bullets started flying, Orion turned around and ran in the other direction. What he hadn't expected, however, was for the blond to follow him, still shooting at the pursuing guards.

"Oi!" he exclaimed, "Stop following me, they want you, not me! You're gonna get me killed!"

"Now that they know you're here, they'll be looking for you too, dude. You're screwed either way." the blond snapped, glancing behind him, machine gun at the ready.

"Wonderful, just what I ne…" Orion cut off on a yelp as the blond man tackled him into an open doorway, landing on top of him as the security team ran by. He held his breath until the last of them passed, then returned his attention to the man atop him.

"You know, this is not the usual reason I find myself underneath another man," Orion quipped lightly.

This comment garnered a reaction.

"Oh yeah?" the blond man leered, somehow checking Orion out without moving his eyes. Orion looked up at that, meeting the man's eyes. He forgot himself trying to decide whether they were they were gray or a light blue.

A motion in the corner of his eye caught Orion's attention and he glanced there for the briefest second, before tensing at what he saw. Without thinking, he grabbed at the handgun he had noticed at the small of the blonde's back and fired, instinct taking over. It wasn't until the body of the dead guard hit the ground that he looked away to find the blond man staring at him.

"What?" he questioned. For some reason, this man put him on the defensive, and the fact that guards all over the building were searching for him didn't help.

The man didn't respond. He silently got up and took his gun from Orion's lax grip before walking over to the body. Orion stared at the ceiling above him for a few more seconds before getting up as well.

"You know, it might be nice to know your name. It'd be better than calling you the asshole-that-ruined-my-perfect-getaway-plan. Probably shorter too."

The man glanced up from where he had drug the body and Orion could see a hint of a smirk. He was handsome, in a dangerous, serial killer way, which Orion supposed was appropriate, seeing as they were in this mess because he had assassinated someone in the building.

"Guerrero," was all the man said, busying himself with patting down the corpse.

"Orion. Now that that's done with, mind telling me why you helped me in the first place? I'm not stupid enough to think you did it out of the goodness of your heart." The man, Guerrero, had finished frisking the dead guard and turned to look at Orion.

"You came here to rob the place, so you most likely have a backup plan. I help you, you help me."

"You'd think that you'd have a plan to get out before you came in here killing people," Orion sighed, looking at the blond once more, before giving in. "Fine, you get me to the third floor, I'll get you out."

Guerrero nodded before throwing Orion the gun he had lifted from the guard.

"Then let's go, dude."

So far, so good. Orion couldn't help thinking that their good luck wouldn't last much longer. They had managed to get to the third floor without any problems and they only had a few more minutes to get to the curator's office, but the closer they got, the more tense Orion got, expecting the absent guards to appear around every corner.

It happened when they were almost home free. They had reached the curator's office, were just about to enter, when they heard the ominous sounds of security closing in on them. Orion and Guerrero looked at each other, before they shot for the window. Orion had it open and was halfway through by the time the first of the guards showed up. He hurried through so Guerrero could go through before they started trading shots. After they were both through, Orion grabbed the rope he had stashed here in case anything went wrong, although he was proud of the fact that they usually didn't. He quickly tied it around a post on the balcony before jumping off and sliding down. When he reached the ground, he looked up to see Guerrero was following him closely.

Despite the fact that the man's presence had resulted in the failure of Orion's perfect heist, although Orion had still gotten the merchandise, he wanted to help Guerrero out. Cursing his idiotic compassion, he turned back to the man, who had gotten to the ground.

"You want a lift? Seeing as security didn't notice you sooner, you can't have parked anywhere near, and you're gonna need to get out fast." That got the assassin's attention. He stared at Orion with the same look that he had back in the museum, the one that made Orion uncomfortable and shifty, as though he had been caught stealing from the cookie jar, which would never happen, Orion prided himself on his thieving skills.

"What's your name?" This caught Orion off guard. Of all the responses, he didn't expect that.

"Pardon? I already told you, it's Or…" he was cut off by the blond.

"No, your street name," At Orion's confused look he explained. "You had that rope stashed in case something went wrong, even though you didn't expect it to. The guards didn't know you were in the building until I got them searching. You're a pro, dude. So, what's your name on the streets?"

Orion considered the consequences of telling Guerrero his name, before relenting at the man's impatient look.

"They call me the Magician. Now, about that ride?"

The car ride was cloying and uncomfortable. Orion was dealing with the aftereffects of adrenaline rushing through his blood, one of the reasons he preferred to work alone. It didn't help that he had a good-looking male in the passenger seat of his black Bugatti Veyron. Orion shifted again before glancing over at Guerrero. He sighed then focused back on the road. Hopefully he wouldn't notice the bulge in Orion's pants.

It was a few minutes later that a voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"Pull over."

"What?" Orion turned to look at Guerrero in confusion.

"I said, pull over," the assassin's voice was more demanding now, impatient. Obviously he didn't like repeating himself.

Orion looked at him a few seconds longer then checked his mirrors and pulled the car to the side of the deserted street. He turned back to Guerrero, ready to demand an explanation, only he couldn't because his mouth was covering Orion's. Orion was just about to move away when Guerrero started moving his lips, and damn, the man could kiss. Despite his efforts to pull away and object, Orion found himself moaning, allowing the man access to his mouth.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Guerrero pulled away, breaking the kiss. Orion had to fight back a whimper of objection, opening his eyes to look at the assassin opposite him. In spite of his earlier protests, all Orion could think of now was kissing Guerrero again. And anyways, if he was interested, there was no reason Orion couldn't do so. It wasn't like Orion had any moral disagreements on the matter.

Having convinced himself, Orion turned until he was facing Guerrero with his knees on the seat before climbing over the separation so he was straddling the man's lap. He smirked when Guerrero placed his hands on his hips before giving in to his urges and bending his head to kiss him once more. As the kiss got markedly more heated, Orion couldn't help but buck his hips, drawing Guerrero's attention. His hands, which had been resting on Orion's hips, slowly moved their way to Orion's belt, undoing it with speed and precision and opening his fly. When his attempt to pull his pants down was hindered, Orion stood up as best as he could in the cramped car and stripped his pants off. He ignored any and all embarrassment he felt for not wearing boxers and returned to his position on top of Guerrero. When his erection brushed the front of Guerrero's jeans, Orion moaned, bucking his hips again, this time meeting another equally hard erection.

He was about to repeat the motion when Guerrero's hands moved back to his hips, pulling him down so his ass settled over the man's erection. Orion gasped at the sensation and, ignoring the little voice in his head that was common sense, he scrabbled through the things in the separator to find his handy bottle of oil. As soon as his hand surfaced with the bottle, it was snatched from him. When he looked back at Guerrero, he saw him oiling his index and middle fingers. Orion was starting to get apprehensive as Guerrero positioned his fingers beneath his entrance, but before he could act, the two fingers were suddenly inside of him.

"Fuck!" yelled Orion, back arching at the abrupt sensation of having something inside him. The burn of being stretched was exquisite. He could feel Guerrero thrusting his fingers at different angles and he let out a whimper at each thrust. Out of nowhere, Orion suddenly jerked and let his head fall back, hands clutching Guerrero's shoulders.

"Ohhh, God!" he cried out, thrusting his hips down to meet the fingers. Apparently Guerrero had found Orion's prostate.

The fingers thrust into him a few more times before they were removed, and Orion looked down at the assassin to protest but relaxed when he saw him unfastening his jeans. He waited patiently as Guerrero readied and positioned himself, but Orion's patience ran out when he just sat there, his erection brushing against his entrance.

"Fuck me already!" he yelled, frustrated at waiting. He tried to move his hips down, but Guerrero's hands had returned to their position, and held his hips still.

"I want you to beg me," Guerrero's hot breath warming Orion's ear. He bit down lightly on his neck, and Orion moved his head back to give Guerrero more room.

"Not happening," he moaned with his head thrown back, trying to thrust his hips down again and again Guerrero stopped him.

"Beg for it," the assassin pushed, but sighed resignedly when shook his head, determined. He bent his head to press his lips against Guerrero's, the most pleading he could lower himself to do.

It seemed that, for now, that was enough for Guerrero. He gripped Orion's hips tightly and that was the only warning he had before Guerrero pulled him down while thrusting his own hips up, slamming into Orion's prostate head on.

"Ahhhh!" Orion's reaction was instantaneous and loud. He threw his head back, screaming loudly at the car roof. He quickly covered his mouth, not trusting himself to be able to keep quiet, knowing that Guerrero would force many more sounds from him. As if reading his mind, Guerrero slowly pulled out, then thrust back in almost as deeply and suddenly as the first thrust. Orion gave a whimper through his hands, proving himself right.

It seemed that Guerrero didn't appreciate Orion covering his mouth, because he pulled Orion's hands behind his back and, swiftly, before Orion could move them, ripped his shirt open, the buttons popping everywhere, and pushed it down his shoulders to tie his hands together. And all the while, Orion couldn't form a protest as he was endlessly moaning at the short, grinding thrusts Guerrero was making.

It went on like that for a few more minutes until Orion got fed up once again. He was so close, all he needed was a little faster, a little harder, but he had no control over his movements or Guerrero's. There was nothing he could do to get Guerrero to move.

"Please!" Finally, Orion broke and gave in. His pride wasn't as important as getting off right now, not when his erection was turning red and painful from all the blood rushing into it.

"Please?" Guerrero slowed his thrusts down even more, though Orion hadn't thought it possible.

"Please fuck me harder! Please," he buried his face in Guerrero's neck. Now that the pleasure was waning, all he could feel was the shame of begging, but that didn't last long. Not when Guerrero gripped his hips hard enough to leave bruises, if there weren't any already, and thrust into him deep and hard, striking his prostate right away.

"Guerrero!" Orion yelled, before being reduced to whimpers and moans as Guerrero thrust into him, his thrusts getting rougher and sharper as they both approached their orgasms. A few thrusts later, Orion was throwing his head back, screaming for anyone driving by to hear as he came, his entrance clenching down on Guerrero, milking him to his own orgasm. Orion moaned weakly when Guerrero came in him, warm cum covering his insides.

They stayed like that for a few moments, then Guerrero pulled them apart before they were stuck together and reached for the box of tissues in the separator, pulling a few out to clean himself. He grabbed a few more to hand to Orion, who had been catching his breath, and released his hands then zipped his own pants up, before opening the door and getting out while carefully placing Orion in the seat. He walked around the car and got in the driver's side, starting the car up and finally glanced over at Orion. His cock weakly twitched at the sight. The thief was curled up on the seat, cum dripping down his thighs, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, his eyes sleepily fluttering. He was the epitome of 'just fucked'. Guerrero leaned over, grabbing the tissues he clutched in his hand, and slowly cleaned the cum off his ass and thighs. At this, Orion's eyes slowly opened and focused on him. Once he was finished, Guerrero straightened and looked him over.

"Get dressed. I'll take you to where ever you're staying.." Guerrero trailed off, waiting for Orion to tell him the address.

"I have a room at the Country Inn, if you know where that is." Orion's voice was low and satisfied, content, and he mustered some energy to reach down and pull his pants on and zip them up. Guerrero just nodded and started driving.

The car ride was quiet, relaxed, and Orion was slowly calming down. By the time they reached the hotel, he has regained his senses and had pulled his shirt back into a semblance of tidiness. There was no speaking as they stepped out of the car and Orion led them to his room. There was no need for words. That is until they reached his room and Orion let them in and turned to look at Guerrero.

"You owe me dinner. That's as easy as I'll get," was all he said before he slipped his shirt off and unzipped his jeans.

Guerrero's only response was shutting the door as he entered the room.

"Where are you going?" Winston questioned when he saw Guerrero heading out of the office with a bag over his shoulder.

"Got a date with the Magician," he answered, knowing that if he ignored them, they would only get nosier.

Ames choked on her glass of scotch. The good scotch.

"Wait, the Magician, as in the magician thief? The thief who can steal anything without anyone noticing until a day later? That Magician?"

"No, dude , the magician that blew up the Statue of Liberty."

Ames ignored the sarcasm, focused on the more important issue.

"You're not going to kill him are you?"

"What's it to you?" Guerrero replied, annoyed that she was keeping him from his, dare he say it, date.

"The Magician is amazing! He's, like, my idol! He's the best thief there is."

"Okay, I'm going to leave before I try to kill you for being an annoying cheerleader. Bye." He left the office as fast as he could, before anyone could stop him a second time and went to get ready to meet Orion Black, or more specifically, Harry Potter, who he had found very little information on. He had been born July 31st, 1980 and grown up in Surrey, London. Other than that, the only information he could find was that he went to a boarding school from age 11-17 and after school he became adopted son of Andromeda Black, adopted father of Teddy Black, and changed his name to Orion Black, after which he came to America.

'I guess I'll have to get the answers out of him somehow,' Guerrero smirked, 'I'm gonna have fun thinking of ways to get him to talk.' And with that thought, he headed out, fully planning on enjoying his date.