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

~ high rise ~

"I really don't see why", Ames grumbled and crossed her arms. "I've been planning this movie night with Ken for ages. It's what roommates do, you know? Homemade popcorn and salt sticks, a bit of beverage… Ken even let me choose the videos! And now you're telling me I have to work." She was positively pouting.

"There's a client's life on the line", Chance said unsmilingly. "You want to risk it for popcorn with Kermit?"

"His name is Ken", Ames hissed back. "And we already have tons of soil samples, two eye witnesses and an autopsy report, all clear as day showing that CasGrov is emitting dangerous substances into air and water. Why break into their office, crack their safe, risk getting caught, only to prove the same thing one more time? I just don't see it."

"They keep documents there that show that, at least since 2010, they knew how dangerous the substances were. A secret study CasGrov's board of directors first commissioned, then swept under the carpet. Knowing how long they knew what they were doing, that's important if the victims want to put together a lawsuit. It greatly influences the amount of compensation money."

"Why don't you break in if it's so important?" Ames still wasn't convinced and Chance's overly didactic tone irked her.

"Last week you wanted to chain me up in Guerrero's dungeon for two weeks, now you expect me to break into a high rise?" Chance paused for a moment. "And aside from that I don't think I'll fit through the ventilation shaft…"

Oh, austere expression or not, now he was definitely trying to hide a smirk. Ames, however, was too busy exploding to notice.

"NO. Not another underwear & oil job!"

"Uh, dude, the building was erected three years ago, following the revised building code. Unless we manage to shrink her, she won't fit through the shaft." Guerrero showed them an extract from the building's construction permit.

Ames stuck her tongue out at Chance.

Chance frowned at Guerrero. Guerrero shrugged his shoulders. Think of a better strategy, dude, it said.

"My arm is still not one hundred percent", Chance told Ames, uneasily shifting his shoulder and wincing. "Don't think I can pull off a break in. Sorry, but I fear no go for you and Kermit tonight."

"KEN! For heaven's sake, his name is KEN!"

"Getting those documents would really make a difference", Ilsa chimed in. "Lawsuits of these dimensions need a rock solid fundament and those documents would definitely add lots of concrete, figuratively speaking." She knew why Chance was so fiercely determined on sending Ames on this job – this Ken had let her pick the movies and would provide beverage, didn't take a genius to figure out what he was most likely up to. Platonic roommates, sure.

Nevertheless, ulterior motives or not, Chance had a point. Those documents were valuable evidence.

"It's a Prometheus 200FX, Ames, nothing you haven't handled before", Winston agreed with Ilsa. Too many of his cases had floundered in court because some goddamn wise ass of a lawyer had managed to cast doubt among the jury. They needed as much evidence as they could get.

Winston had been playing with his pen while listening, continuously removing the cap and putting it back on a second later. Ilsa felt the urge to wrest it from his hand.

"I think I can get you a copied keycard from a dude who owes me one, so no rappelling", Guerrero added. He looked at Chance: Happy now?

Winston abruptly turned around and stared at Guerrero. Guerrero stared back, then slowly raised a questioning eyebrow.

Huh, they openly agreeing on something. Still felt strange somehow.

"You're all hell-bent on ruining my evening, aren't you?" Ames was still in the pouts, but she did enjoy the team pleading with her. They needed her. It felt good.

"I want popcorn afterwards", she finally said.

… … …

Guerrero had noticed Winston being strangely fidgety during the meeting. An eye for details was important in his line of work. The way he had played with his pen… In his cop years Winston had learned very well to keep his emotions under control, at least to a certain point. Anger management was not exactly his thing. But nervousness? Not Winston…

One idle afternoon Guerrero had taken a look at a couple of old tapes from Winston's interrogations. Not bad. He sat still for hours, only to suddenly erupt, like a volcano. With a man his size, quite an impressive sight and sometimes enough to break a suspect. But it only worked if he sat very still.

His fidgeting around with the pen… Something was wrong. Guerrero decided to hang around a little longer. After Chance had disbanded the meeting, he casually walked over to the kitchen.

Sure enough, Winston followed him.

"What's the matter, dude?"

"Protecting my lunch, that's all." Winston grabbed a Tupperware box from the fridge, a fork from the drawer, sat down and started eating the contents.

"You sure you don't want to put that in the oven first?"

"My lunch, not yours", Winston snarled, put a forkful into his mouth, realized he was eating raw meat pie and spat, cursing.

"Okay dude, spill it out."

For a long moment, Winston said nothing, did nothing except breathe. Then: "I need… something… from you."

Guerrero casually shrugged his shoulders. "Unregistered gun? Dirt on the neighbor with the annoying cat so he gets kicked out of his apartment? You name it, dude."

"How the hell do you know about…? Just forget it. Shouldn't even have thought about going to you."

"You know the rules, Winston. Pay me and you get whatever you ask for. You really want to outsorce?"

As much as Winston hated to admit it, he had a point.