Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I do not own human Target or it's characters and intend no infringements!

As the morning sun started to break through the window, Ilsa slowly started to stir and open her eyes.

What time was it? It couldn't be much past 5:00 am. She glanced over at the clock; 5:53. She'd spent the night on Chance's couch, last thing she remembered was Chance and Carmine going out. Now she was on a pillow and had a blanket snuggled around her.

She glanced around the room. Well, there was Carmine….but where was Chance? The room was completely void of any other human. Carmine was back, so at some point Chance must have returned as well and someone made her comfortable.

So then, where had he gone, where had he slept…his room? She doubted it. She couldn't see him retiring to him room and leaving her on the couch. His character wouldn't allow him to be more comfortable then her.

She looked over at the large leather chair, that's where he stayed, she decided.

She stretched and got up, gave Carmine a quick pat and walked over to the railing and glanced downstairs. Nope, no sign of him. She could tell he wasn't in the bathroom either.

She quickly ran downstairs and grabbed her purse and ran back up to the bathroom, feeling a great need to freshen up. She had always carried extra toiletries and toothbrushes in her purse, she liked having the options to freshen up at any point during a day.

She emerged from the washroom 10 minutes later and still found the premises quiet.

She slowly, cautiously made her way down the stairs. She found herself nervous but burning with anticipation, would they continue where they left off or would they pretend last night's emotion and obvious attraction didn't happen.

She'd soon find out. He would have to be back soon, it was too early in the morning for him to be doing something important.

She went into the kitchen and began to make a fresh pot of coffee.

She sat down at the kitchen table and rested her chin in her hands…. Her mind wondering.

Her thoughts were broken by the beep from the coffee pot indicating it was ready. She walked over and poured herself a cup. She sipped it slowly, allowing its smell and taste to awaken her sleepy senses. Just then she heard the elevator doors.

It had to be Chance. She felt her body tense up and she quickly and instinctively spruced up her hair.

She waited. Within moments Chance appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, He paused briefly and shyly smiled at her. Then while checking her out he confidentially put one hand up against the side door frame and the other on his hip.

He was wet again, this time with sweat but he looked just as good as when he came out off the shower last night. His shirt was on but it was wet and clinging to his body.

Oh, he had gone for a jog, she discerned.

He remained there, studying her saying nothing. She felt increasing self-conscious.

"I thought you said you didn't like jogging," she smiled back at him then turned away towards the cupboards.

"Ah, I was just making small talk," he walked up behind her, she could smell his fresh sweat, it peaked her senses even better then the coffee, "how did you sleep?" He reached for a coffee cup over her head.

Before he could pull it down from the cupboard Ilsa turned and handed him an already poured one. He stopped in mid action and stared into her eyes. He slowly lowered his arm, not removing his intense glare, they stood still. Finally breaking the stare he looked down at the cup she held out to him.

He methodically reached for the cup allowed his fingers to linger on her delicate hands as he accepted it. Was it deliberate or accidental, neither of them knew for sure.

Again his eyes met hers. They stood there for a few seconds that seemed more like minutes, finally, taking the cup he walked away.

Ilsa took a deep breath in. "I slept like a baby, the best sleep since, well, since that night" she followed him with her eyes as he walked around table and sat down. "Which is amazing considering I was sleeping on a couch." she nervously finished.

Chance raised his eyebrows at her, "it's a comfortable couch, though, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes it is, I'll have to admit."

Chance smiled to her response and looked down at his cup.

"So is your sister-in-law gone now?" he said without looking up.

Ilsa had been studying him, it was getting increasingly harder to keep her composure around him. "Yes," she said walking over to the chair across from him. He's making small talk, again, she thought. "Her flight left last night," she finished as she took the seat.

Chance looked up, she looked good in the morning, he thought briefly allowed himself to slip. Stop, keep her at arms length, he reminded himself.

"Well, I'm going to run and have a shower," he quickly stood up, his chair scratching the floor loudly. "Thanks for the coffee," he held up the cup in a toasting, thanking manner and began to walk away, out of the kitchen.

Ilsa sat somewhat stunned, unable to respond. He wants to pretend last night didn't happen. That the connection between them wasn't there. Fine, she decided, she can be stubborn too!

But before he got too far he stopped. He stood there a few moments with his back to her, silently contemplating something.

Ilsa watched him anxiously, then finally turning he said, "Ilsa, I'm going to keep you safe, no matter what, you don't need to doubt that for a second." He intently walked back to her. Her heart began to race.

In one quick motion he put the cup down on the table and slid his hand under her arm and with great ease pulled her towards him.

His strength made it impossible to resist and his gentleness made her not want to even try. Their bodies were so close, but not touching. They both felt the unmistakable energy.

Then he took both hands and held her head gently and looked directly into her eyes, "it's my number one priority."

It was her turn to pull away this time. Removing herself from his tender embrace she walked toward the sink.

"You are needed by others with real problems, real threatening situations, I can't allow my petty problems to prohibit you from helping those that really need it." She all of a sudden felt selfish for consuming his thoughts, being his priority. That's why they were here, in this business, to help others, not her.

What was with these two, couldn't they be on the same page at the same time.

"Ilsa, I'm not…." Chance began.

"No," Ilsa interrupted him and began to make a bee-line to the door of the kitchen.

Chance reading her all the way put his arm against the door frame to block her escape. She stopped in her tracks. Afraid to look up at him but slowly she did.

He put his other hand on her waist and slowly directed her back against the counter. "don't fight me….this." He had officially allowed himself to slip.

"What, fight what, I have no idea what you are talking about," she couldn't look him in the face. She stared down, to the side, the other side, anywhere but his face, anywhere but those eyes.

He wasn't touching her but placed both hands against the counter on either side of her body. She couldn't move. She was pinned.

Although she was very pleased this was happening she couldn't for whatever reason allow herself to just give in to it. Was it because she wanted this new uncertainty between them to last, to go slow, to enjoy this, his pursuit? Was she just being stubborn, or was it guilt over her feelings for Chance.

He wasn't giving in. He held his stance, waiting for her to finally meet his eyes, finally after putting up a fight, she did.

"Stop being so stubborn, you need to understand this!" He said sternly but tenderly.

He was still convincing himself he wasn't acting on anything other then his professional protection. But the reality was his guard was down, again. She kept breaking through his barrier.

Time stood still, they leaned towards each other, a little more, closer, eyes locked, heart pounding.

A ding went off indicating the arrival of the elevator. Someone was coming.

Ilsa and Chance pulled away from each other before they over committed, before they crossed a line they couldn't return from, before they got caught.

She broke through his strong arms that had her pinned against the counter, this time he allowed her to go. He was back, he had his focus again. That was close.

He stood their quietly without moving as she fled the room to greet their interrupter.

"Mrs Pucci," Winston greeted Ilsa as he briskly walked from the elevator to his office. Giving her a sideways glance added, "you look very nice today."

It was mean to be a slight sarcastic shot at her since, yes, he did notice her clothes were the same she had on last night when he left.

"Good morning, Mr Winston." She nervously watched him, did he notice?

Her back was towards the elevator so she did not notice a second person had accompanied Winston from the elevator, not until she heard the familiar noise of clicking heels towards her.

Can't be Ames, she didn't wear high heels.

Ilsa was frozen, hands cupped in front of her, hesitating to turn, but before she could turn around to greet the sound of the second guest, Winston returned from his office with a file in his hand and directed her attention behind her.

"Ilsa, I'd like you to meet District Attorney Allyson Russo. Chance saved her life about two years ago," Ilsa watch Winston's face and for whatever reason wasn't sure she wanted to turn around.

Of course it would appear insane if she didn't so she prepared herself and turned around.

There stood a striking blond woman with an air of confidence.

Ilsa studied her quickly and trying to appear casual but friendly, "Ilsa Pucci," she extended her hand to proceed with formalities.

The attractive blond accepted her hand, "nice to meet you, I was hoping to see…." before Allyson could finished they all turned towards the kitchen to see a fourth person enter the room.

An unexpected Chance walked into the open area. Stopped dead in his tracts!

All three stood silent and still and stared. Ilsa watch his reaction closely. Dear God, here we go, Ilsa said to herself as she rolled her eyes.

I'm not sure if I'll continue this story...there is more to it but the title doesn't really fit where it's going. I might continue it under a different story...not sure yet...