Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
The farm. The day of the wedding.
BOOM.
Ilsa, who had stayed the night to oversee all preparations, woke up from something that sounded like a hand grenade exploding nearby. Thanks to working with Chance and Co., she knew that sound pretty well by now.
Her eyes flew open, she jumped from the bed and dashed out of her room, almost colliding with Nicole in the corridor.
"What in the world…?"
Nicole looked puzzled.
"The explosions...?", Ilsa prompted.
"Ah, that, yes, see, it looks like we're going to have a tiny little problem, but we're already working on it."
BOOM.
Up in heaven, Ilsa was sure about that now, Marshall was sitting on a cloud and laughing his ass off. She took a deep breath.
"Maybe I'm a bit slow this morning, but what kind of wedding-related problem requires the use of explosives?"
"The weather!", Nicole replied, as if that made perfect sense. "It looks like it's going to rain."
Ilsa closed her eyes. She could actually hear him laugh. "How exactly are you…?"
"Moira and Chantrelle have gathered a fairly large group to perform a "sunny-but-not-too hot, a soft-breeze would be perfect"-dance up on the hill. It doesn't require getting naked, thus the rather high attendance rate. The Jedi is trying to cause a shift in the Force with a meditation session by the waterfall, the religious oriented are saying an ecumenical litany behind the barn and the scientist is shooting at the clouds with his latest invention, assisted by the atheist. Thus the noise."
Nicole smiled at her.
"Sorry to have woken you."
BOOM.
About half an hour and multiple explosions later, the sun broke through the thick layer of clouds that had covered the sky.
All around the farm relieved voices could be heard.
"It has worked!"
… … …
The farm, later that day, on the graveyard.
"I'm glad I didn't ask for the annulment after all", Ames whispered into Alejandro's ear as Nelly and Harry took position in front of the priest. "I trusted my initial gut feeling and for once I wasn't wrong."
He took her hand, caressed it and planted a kiss on her cheek.
Winston watched the two from three rows behind and smiled, glad Ames in the end hadn't listened to his rant about rushing into marriage. She and Alejandro looked happy and at peace with each other. He should really stop being pessimistic about everything all the time.
Chance slid into the chair next to him and gave him a lopsided smile. For a moment Winston just stared at him in surprise – he usually avoided wedding ceremonies like the plague – then his smile broadened. Chance looked somewhat different today, more relaxed than usual, not the happy-go-lucky façade he often put up, but really relaxed, as if he had made some sort of important decision.
Clarence started playing a sweet melody on his didgeridoo.
Well yeah, as sweet as it gets with a didgeridoo.
… … …
Emma's house.
Arrangements were already made. She had found herself a nice Washington place to stay till she had sold this catastrophe of a construction site, the flight ticket was paid, the taxi scheduled to arrive in an hour. Her San Franciscan intermezzo would be coming to an end soon.
YES!
Yes?
If she was feeling really this enthusiastic, then why was she still sitting in front of her half packed suitcase and just staring at it instead of finishing this last piece of preparation?
Emma looked around. Why had she bought this ruin in the first place? It had never become a home. Of course she knew the answer. She had hoped she and Chance could renovate it together. He looked like the type who enjoyed knocking down walls. And after a day of working they could have sat together and had a glass of red wine or two… with the sinking sun as a backdrop. As the night grew on he would have wrapped his arms around her to keep her from shivering…
Stop it, Emma. He has made his priorities very clear.
Yes, but did that mean she had to give up?
When had turning tail and running become acceptable coping mechanisms for her?
Was she really willing to let Ilsa Pucci, the woman who had pointed a gun at her, helped two dangerous criminals to escape AND, most importantly, ridiculed her in front of the CIA people, win?
She kicked her suitcase.
… … …
The graveyard.
Estelle Hamilton slid into the chair next to Ilsa. "She looks like her grandmother on her wedding day. I so envied my sister because she was the first one of us girls to get married in that dress… My great-grandmother imported it from Paris in the 19th century. We all got married in it. Francesca's mother was supposed to wear it, too, but she preferred to elope with that… that boy…, got married in jeans in Vegas… . It's unbelievable they're all gone now…"
Ilsa offered her a handkerchief and fought hard not to smile triumphantly. Guerrero had made Estelle talk to the family priest yesterday evening.
"These people raised my Francesca. They got to see her grow up while I was grieving her. You wouldn't believe how jealous I am of them."
Nelly, in her bright white, beaded gown, flowers in her hair, barefooted, suddenly turned around, her hand in Harry's hand, and locked eyes with her aunt.
Estelle nodded, slowly and deliberately and between her tears she started smiling.
In the back, Guerrero's muted cell phone suddenly lit up.
finished working on your del, said the message.
Chance nudged Guerrero in the ribs, wordlessly indicating with a nod of his head that he was supposed to concentrate on the ceremony.
He himself, however, wasn't exactly focused, either.
Ilsa was looking spectacular in the dark green dress she was wearing.
A/N: Yes, I know I said "minimal shipping" – don't worry, this won't turn into a fluffy romance thing, we're going back to the nitty gritty side of things soon. It's just that I need this heartwarming breather first, to kind of rest and recuperate a little.