Disclaimer: Fox owns Human Target but this story is so mi-yi-ine!

Author's note: And we're back! Had to take a breather to get some more Guerrero smut out of my system. Not sure where all this business with him having the urge to bite women during sex came from but here's some more of it in "Guerrero's Stalker" for you if it floats your boat, providing you are mature enough to handle the 'M' rating. You have been warned!

Guerrero arrived at their building first and as soon as he saw the ambulance pull up he jumped in to the still moving vehicle and slammed the door behind him.

"Hey dude."

"What the hell is going on?" Chance asked, still a bit tetchy from being tasered. "One minute I'm in the cell with Bailey and the next the Warden is having me tasered so hard I'm pretty sure I see my dead grandmother and your pal Buckwell, Brockwell or whatever is trying to stab me in the neck!"

Guerrero frowned and turned to Brockwell, "What the hell dude? I told you to aim for a rib!"

"Yeah well the situation called for a neck wound." he shrugged. "And like I told your buddy here, I could have done a lot worse!"

Guerrero shoved Chance's protesting hands out of the way and removed the gauze from the wound. He visibly relaxed when he saw for himself that it was just superficial.

"Quit being such a baby, bro. You're fine." He smiled as Chance grumbled something about it being the principle of the thing.

"I've never been overburdened with principles dude, you know that."

"So, are we all square now?" Brockwell asked Guerrero. "Favour paid back in full?"

"Yes and no." He replied.

Brockwell's face darkened at the ambiguous reply and Bianca started cursing loudly at him from the front seat.

"Hey Bianca." Guerrero said, amused by the colourful language.

"Don't 'Hey Bianca' me, you asshole!" she spat back. "You hold this so-called favour over my brother's head for over a year then call him up telling - not asking mind you, telling - him to go under cover in a fucking prison to save your friend's ass and then have the gall to bitch about him not doing it the way you wanted! And then, then you say we're not even square with you? Fuck you Guerrero! Fuck you and your bitchy, whiney, punk-ass…."

"Relax B," Guerrero interrupted before she deteriorated in to cussing him out again. "The debt is settled. I was only going to offer you payment for another job."

"How much?" She fired back, without missing a beat. Guerrero laughed.

"That's Winston pulling up now." Chance said, pointing through the windscreen. "Maybe we should take this inside."

"Can't do that, dude." Guerrero said, dialling Winston's number on his cell. "I think Powell might have the place rigged with something."

"The building is booby trapped?" asked Winston as he answered the call and picked up the tail end of what had just been said. Guerrero switched the call to speaker phone.

"I think it's likely, yeah. Powell said something about having an 'elegant' plan to kill Chance. Knowing Powell that's likely to mean he's got something rigged to kill him, something we wouldn't normally even consider a threat. He likes to make things way too complicated than they need to be. He always did fancy himself as an evil genius type super-villain. He favours style over efficiency any day of the week."

"So Powell's the bad guy and now I'm the target?" Chance asked. "What about Kelly and Anita?"

"It turns out Powell still isn't hip with Kelly's lifestyle." Guerrero said, smiling at the thought of Powell's face as he had taunted him at the diner. "He wants Anita dead."

"So all this stuff with Bailey…?" Chance asked.

"Cole was going to testify against Powell in a case the Feds were trying to put together." Winston explained. "He was going in to witness protection. Bailey took the fall to hide the fact his murder was a hit."

"What happened with Bailey?" Kelly asked over the speakerphone.

"I'm sorry Kelly. He's dead." Chance said with genuine regret. "There was nothing we could have done for him."

"Well, what do we do now?" Winston asked. "We can't just sit here in the van, we're sitting ducks."

"I was just getting to that when you showed up." Guerrero said. "Brockwell, just how hot is this ambulance? Is it going to be missed anytime soon? Can it be traced?"

"Oh, please!" Bianca snorted . "We're not amateurs! We switched the plates and removed the GPS tracker. The only way someone would know this bus was stolen would be if they checked the VIN."

"Good. You take Kelly and Anita and hide them and I'll let you keep the ambulance."

"Guerrero! You cannot give away an ambulance! It's…" Winston's voice abruptly cut off as Guerrero muted the call.

"You in?" He asked.

"What's to stop us keeping it anyway?" Bianca asked smugly.

"Because, sis, I'd still owe Guerrero." Brockwell explained. "The ambulance would be payment for getting his bud out of jail and I would still owe him a favour that he could call in at any time."

Bianca considered this for a moment.

"I guess that makes sense, in a way." She conceded. "Okay, we're in. We taking buddy boy too?" She asked, indicating Chance.

"No, I'm good." Chance smiled at the thought of the mouthy teenager offering him protection. "Me and Guerrero have work to do."

"Shame." Bianca giving Chance an appreciative look. "That would have sweetened the deal."

"Don't worry." He replied, winking at her. "You get to hang with our friend Winston."

Guerrero unmuted the call.

"… and what the hell are your low-life, scum-bag cronies going to do with a freakin' ambulance anyways?" Winston didn't have appear to notice that no-one had been listening to his feelings about stealing emergency response vehicles.

"You can ask them yourself, dude. You're gonna be riding with them for a while." Guerrero said, grinning at the look on Bianca's face as she realised she wasn't exactly getting a fair trade in swapping Chance for Winston. "Although, I suggest you not calling Bianca a low-life scum-bag, that tends to make her cranky."