Oh yeah, right. Disclaimer: I don't own anything that isn't mine. I'm not making a profit or anything; entertainment purposes only. this story doesn't contain slash. It doesn't contain incest. It doesn't contain adult scenes. It contains little, if any, coarse language. So basically, rated because I'm paranoid.

AN: Guess What? I'm back from winning Nanowrimo! it was a blast. :D And...I'm quite proud of this chapter. Very glad I didn't post it because it makes it better. Anyway, you don't want to read this, right? You want to read the chapter! yep. thought so. Anyway, be advised that hulu was evil and took Christopher Chance off, so I had to go off what I remembered. Enjoy! I missed y'all.

PS- Are you excited for tonight? CUZ I AM! XD here's something to make the wait less hard.

It was a perfectly ordinary Saturday. Cindy was making pancakes, and Carmine was supervising, panting happily as he envisioned receiving a portion of the food. Chance was reading the paper and drinking coffee, Guerrero was surfing the net on his phone, and Winston was trying to get the new software on his laptop to cooperate.

The tile in the kitchen felt cool to Cindy's bare feet, and she hummed happily as she flipped pancakes over. Cooking wasn't her forte, but breakfast she could do. Her green t-shirt had a torn shoulder and her jeans had holes in the knees, but that was okay, since she wasn't at school where they cared about stuff like that.

Carmine sneezed, and she took that to mean he thought the pancakes were done. She carefully lifted them off the griddle and stacked them on a platter. The girl could hear Winston muttering irritably from the den, while her dad snarked at him sarcastically. She peeked around the door and saw Chance smile wryly and take a sip of coffee.

Then, at the sound of a quiet thump from above, he almost spit it out.

All three men looked up instantly, going into hyper alert. Cindy froze, and her heart rate spiked. Could…could this be assassins? Or someone equally as bad? She had never really considered that anyone could actually invade here. It had always felt so safe!

Guerrero was the first one into action, jumping up from the couch and crossing the distance to her. Cindy yelped involuntarily when he swung her up bodily into his arms. Chance and Winston were moving to remove all signs of life, shoving computers and phones into desk drawers. As Guerrero climbed the stairs, Cindy peered over his shoulder and saw Chance hide her pancakes in the pantry. But she could still see his coffee cup on the table.

"Who's coming?" Cindy asked breathlessly as Guerrero set her down and began tapping on the wall. "Is it Chance's partner?" she asked.

"Dunno," he said tersely. He rapped a brick, and a small portion of the wall slid aside. Her eyes grew large; that was only supposed to happen in movies! "Get in," he said, shoving her inside. She could see the tautness around his mouth, the absolute focus in his eyes. "Don't make any noise. Don't come out until one of us comes to get you."

"Dad –" she began to exclaim, but the panel slid shut in front of her eyes.

It was completely black in there, except for a crack or two between the bricks. The crawl space was only big enough to kneel in, and it was wide enough for Cindy to reach out and touch the walls with both hands. Pressing her eyes to one of the cracks, she strained her eyes vainly to see anything, anything at all.

She couldn't see anything, but she could definitely hear things. Glass broke. Things exploded. Guns fired. Gas filtered into the cracks. Panic seized her, thinking it was poisonous. But all it made her do was cough. It was probably just for distraction, she decided. But finally, things died down.

But no one came. She curled up with her knees to her chest, arms around them, chin on her kneecaps. It felt like so long. But they hadn't come, and her dad had said to wait until they came.

Chance always won. Didn't he?

Guerrero's brain was working furiously. This was obviously the man who had sent the skinny thug to get dirt on Chance. And he had already questioned Chance and Winston; now he had gotten to him. He wasn't a praying man, but he was definitely praying now that they wouldn't find Cindy in the hidey-hole upstairs.

"Are you really telling me that you'd let him get away from you?" the man asked.

"What can I say?" Guerrero said sarcastically. "My heart grew three sizes that day."

He frowned. "Get him out of here," he muttered to his man.

Thug numero uno hauled Guerrero roughly out of the conference room and plunked him down in a chair, grabbing Winston to be taken in again. Guerrero scanned the room for Chance, and then deduced that he must be in another room. He scoped out the muscle problem. There were only two of them. He could take them if he had to; he had already picked the handcuffs.

And from the sound of the ruckus, he was going to have to.

Guerrero shot out of his chair and straight into the throat of the first guy, and then lashed out at the second guy with his foot. With a couple more hits, both went down. He snatched up a gun from them and headed out into the hall, finger on the trigger.

"Hey, dude," he said, seeing Chance come his way. "Where'd the goons go?"

"Pulled out," Chance said. "And they took Winston." His face was grim and set.

Guerrero lowered his gun. "We're gonna get him back, dude," he said.

Chance nodded somberly, worried. "I know that," he mumbled softly.

Guerrero knew that in this condition, Winston would probably put his hand on Chance's shoulder, tell him to relax and stop worrying, yada yada yada. But Guerrero wasn't a touchy-feely, feel–good kind of guy, so he just said, "Chill out, man. I need to go get Cindy."

He mounted the stairs two at a time, going to the secret hidey-hole that wasn't really meant for people but could be used as a place to store a smallish- sized person, if the situation demanded. And if Cindy was anything, she was smallish. The catch released, and the door opened to reveal his girl.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed, at once leaping out and hugging him. "What happened?" she demanded.

"Are you okay?" Guerrero asked, ignoring her question.

"Yeah, unless that gas was more than just a smokescreen," Cindy asked with a lopsided smile.

" 'Kay," Guerrero said. "Let's go downstairs and make a plan."

"A plan for what?" Cindy asked, eyes wide.

"To find Winston."

"Where did he go?" Cindy asked, following him downstairs and snapping to Carmine.

"They took him," Guerrero said, setting the gun on the table. He watched Cindy's eyes but out at the sight of the blown windows.

"Who did? The guys who broke in here?" she asked.

"Yeah," Chance said, coming around the corner. "Listen, Guerrero…maybe it would be better if Cindy went to Leila or Amanda's."

"Leila's out of town, bro," Guerrero said.

"So. Amanda's," Chance said with finality.

Cindy looked between them, shocked. "What? Why?"

"Things are going to get messy," Guerrero said sternly. "We've only got a certain amount of time; it'll just be better for everyone if you go to Amanda's."

"Not better for me!" Cindy exclaimed. "I care about Winston too! Why'd they break in? Why'd they take him?"

"It's part of the long, enduring story of Chance's past," Guerrero said. "Messy and tragic."

Chance blinked, coming out of his funk for a second. "My past is like a ballad?"

Cindy and Guerrero gave him weird looks.

"Non sequitur, dude," Guerrero said. "Go pack, kid."

"But I –"

Guerrero turned a stern gaze on her. "Now."

Her mouth snapped shut and she went, if resentfully.

"Might have been a little harsh," Chance said as he heard her door slam hard.

My heart definitely did not grow three sizes that day, Guerrero thought to him self. "There are only a couple of ways to get her to do things on short notice, dude," he said. "One of them is bribery. Another is asking nicely. Third option is putting your foot down hard."

Cindy put her feet up on the dash of Guerrero's Cadillac, staring angrily at the street as he drove her and her stuff back to Amanda's. She didn't want to go back; she wanted to stay with him!

"If you don't get your feet off my dash, you can sit in the back seat," Guerrero said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"If I sat in the back, I'd kick your seat," Cindy mumbled. She was mad.

Guerrero sighed. "If you're going to have a temper tantrum –"

"I am not!" She said shrilly, sitting up straight. "I'm not a little kid!"

"Then quit acting like it," Guerrero said sharply. "We might treat you older then."

She slumped down in her seat, letting her dishwater blond hair hang in front of her eyes. "If you treated me older I might not get so mad," she muttered. She glanced over at him and saw him roll his eyes. She swallowed hard, feeling bile and bitterness threaten to spill out. "I just –I just want to be there," she said dismally, hating the feeling of tears, hoping she wouldn't cry. "I'm worried about Winston too." She swallowed again, feeling her throat choke up.

Guerrero pulled over to Amanda's apartment building and stopped the car. He turned to her and said, "I know, kiddo. We all are." He put his right arm around her, and she leaned into it, letting the tears come.

"What if it was you?" Cindy asked, mumbling into his chest. "What if they took you? I don't have anybody else." She sobbed silently.

"It's not going to happen," Guerrero told her, rubbing her back. "Trust me."

"But what if it does?" she asked, feeling like she was going to cry some more.

"Then you go get Chance, have him kick some butt and take down some bad guys, pick me up, and it'll be okay again," Guerrero told her.

She had to laugh at that.

"Don't worry, kiddo, " he said. "We'll have him back before you know it."

Cindy smiled and he ruffled her hair before helping her take her stuff up to Amanda's apartment. The brunette opened the door, smiling at the sight of the girl. "Hey, kiddo," she said. "Back so soon?"

"Yep," Cindy said, rubbing her eyes.

"Your room's just the same; go on and put your stuff away," Amanda said. Cindy disappeared down the hall.

Guerrero inspected the woman, who had been Rahab's best friend. He trusted this woman with his child, but that didn't mean he trusted the company she kept. Although, from the looks of her bruises on her wrists, neither did she anymore.

She saw where his eyes were going. "He's only in town on weekends," she whispered. "And I'd never let him hit Cindy."

Guerrero looked at her steadily in the eye. "If you ever need to have him taken care of, you just let me know."

"Thanks," she said gratefully, looking down at her hands. "I'll consider it."

Cindy reappeared from her room and said, "I'm all squared away."

"Okay dude," Guerrero said. "You be good."

Cindy nodded, giving him a quick hug. "Be safe," she whispered.

"Aren't I always?" Guerrero asked.

Cindy laughed. "Yeah, right."

Guerrero smirked and walked out the door.

AN: in answer to the enevitable question, no, I didn't put the old man in there because I was totally confused once i watched season 2 episode 1. Why did he even show up, or did they just toss him in there, or...? yeah, I don't even know. so I'm making it work without him. Also: REVIEW! :D