Chapter Six

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything of Human Target, including it's characters. I intend no infringements.

So where this story has gone it really helps if you've seen episode "Run", Season one. There are a lot of reference to Run in this Chapter so spoiler alerts…but I'm pretty sure we've all seen it.

20 Minutes later:

The entire crew was called together in the conference room, well, almost all of them, Ilsa had quietly excused herself from the office. Lying to Winston that she remember she had something to do.

Chance had noticed her leave while he was still with Allyson in the conference room. Inside it drove him nuts but his hands were tied, he couldn't very well chase after her.

Being torn from Ilsa during a pivotal moment was just as hard on him as it was on her. He felt like he was left dangling from a cliff. Though looking at his stoic demeanour one couldn't tell. He was often accused of hiding his feeling but that didn't mean they weren't there.

Chance sat quietly his back partially turned away from the rest of the group towards the window, elbow resting on the edge of the table, fist holding up his chin.

Winston was going on about something…

"From this moment on she doesn't leave Chance's sight! Ames, is Allyson resting comfortably?" He asked.

"Ya, I showed her to the comfy couch in the employee lounge, she's having a restless nap," Ames responded chewing her gum, proud of herself like she'd done something real special.

"Ok, I've been going through Allyson's old file," Winston stood flipping through its pages, "And I've…."

"Um, excuse me," Ames raised her hand as if she were in 2nd grade. "I just wanted to remind you all I can't be involved in this new case, remember, I've planned a family reunion with Brody." She said like a difficult teenager.

Winston looked over his glasses at her in an annoyed manner.

"Ames, get out of here!" He growled at her.

She smiled and pushed herself off the chair and dashed for the exit.

Chance didn't even acknowledge that she left.

Guerrero just smirked into his take out container of Chinese leftovers, shovelling it into his mouth, without looking up.

"As I was saying," Winston continued, "There isn't much to go on in her case file. Her last case was pretty straight forward, no loose ends….." he trailed off, glanced at Chance, remembered how Chance had cleaned up the loose end, detective Wes Gibson, to make sure Allyson wouldn't have to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder for him, Chance didn't stir, Winston cleared his throat and continued. "We did however confirm the bomb and package." He tossed the file onto the large table. "It's all over the nightly news, although the police and FBI are being pretty tight lipped about it."

Chance briefly look at Winston then glanced at the file on the table then went back to staring out the window. It was raining now and the wind was blowing the drops hard against the window, making a pattering sound.

Winston continue despite his teams seeming disinterest. Chance was obviously somewhere else, Winston didn't even want to try to guess what that was about and Guerrero, feet on the table, was more interested in his noodles wrapped around his chop sticks.

After several minutes of Winston going over the plans and their cover (he felt by himself) the light on the elevator lit up and the ding went off, Chance immediate awoke from his thoughts and jumped with the intent to leave the room.

"Hey, Chance, have you even heard a word I said?" Winston watched Chance walk toward the door of the conference room hands in the air helplessly shaking his head.

Chance shrugged his shoulders, "I was half listening." He smile coyly at Winston and left the room.

Guerrero took his feet off the table and started to get up himself,

"It's better then not listening at all. Half listening for Chance is better then all of us put together full listening, don't sweat it, he's got it!" He handed Winston his empty food container and started to exit the conference room. "Dude, seriously, you should know this by now." He was gone.

Winston watched after him with a snarled lip and tossed the container into the trash wiping his hands, "Wiseass!"

Ilsa walked out of the elevator with her head down. Her usual confidence seemed missing.

Chance greeted her, hands in his pockets. "Where were you?" Was all he managed to say. He had rushed to her with the intent on making sure she was doing okay and now that he found himself standing in front of her he felt unprepared and had no idea what to actually say to her.

She looked up, her hair was slightly wet and small pieces were stuck to her face. She began to remove her coat and Chance instinctively reached to help her.

Guerrero walked by them, "it's wet out? Good to know." He caught the elevator before it closed.

"I had some errands to run. Didn't think it would matter. You seem busy and well taken care of." She said taking her coat from his hands, "thank you." Then meeting his eyes curiously and asked, "so, do we have a new case?" She folded her coat over her arms.

Winston strolled by them unnoticed toward the employee lounge.

Chance knew she was a bit disgruntled about his private meeting with Allyson. He knew they had unfinished emotional business lingering but unfortunately their professional business often got in the way and stopped all personal ones.

"Yes, Ilsa, she needs our help. She is in real danger." Chance watched her closely as he spoke slowly. "We Don't have a lot of time to prepare. This case is turning out to be very time sensative. Ilsa, we are going to need the jet. We have to leave for Monaco, tonight." No sooner had the words left his mouth and Chance desperately wished he could put them back in. Damn!

"Monaco!" Ilsa blurted, blinking her eyes shaking her head in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Chance was just about to make his best attempt to calm her and explain their predicament.

"Ilsa, lets go into your office." He began to steer her towards it. She shot him a harsh glare that made him remove his hand from her back immediately.

Did they just take two steps backwards in their relationship! She seemed cooler then ever. Less then a few hours ago they had almost kissed and now they seem farther away then ever.

Chance wanted to fix this fast, to regain the ground they'd lost since Allyson walked into their office. But he could tell his usual smile and charm wasn't going to cut it this time. Oh damn, was he going to have to use words?

She began to walk away, head held high and determined. Oh no you don't, not this time. He grabbed her arm and stopped her pulling her around and back. When she shot him that "look" again, he didn't budge this time, he kept holding on. "You're not walking away….." He had let go way too many times in the last 12 hours.

"Chance." Came a female voice behind him.

Chance rolled his eyes in frustration while still holding Ilsa arm. Seriously, these interruptions were starting to feel like a real bad joke.

Then he let go of Ilsa arm, but Ilsa remained.

Chance turn to meet Allyson. "Winston just briefed me. Looks like we are going on a trip." She smiled walking right up to him, arms folded in front of her not even glancing at Ilsa. "I'd feel a bit uncomfortable and nervous having to spend this time with a man in such close proximity I barely know, but hay, we aren't such strangers, after all, you did see me in my underwear." She smiled up at Chance, totally aware of what she was doing.

Ilsa eyes squinted to tiny slits, her nose twisted. "I've had quite enough." She turned and stomped towards her office.

Chance stared at Allyson with a look that read, 'you have the worst timing ever'!

"Allyson, please, excuse me, make yourself at home." He gestured toward an inviting seating area.

Why did it always seem like Ilsa was walking away and he was chasing after her. Without waiting for a response from Allyson he took off to Ilsa leaving Allyson standing alone smirking.

He entered her office, slide the door shut, Ilsa didn't even bother to look up from her busy hands all over her keyboard. He raised his hands up in a defending stance. "Ilsa, it's not at all how it sounds."

She stopped typing and looked at him coldly. "How what sounds?" She looked down and began to type away again.

"How what sounds?" He repeated her words with a sneer, shaking his head. "Ilsa, I know you heard what Allyson said. It's not what you think!" He put his hands on his hips.

"Mr Chance," she was back to her more formal way of addressing him."What you do or do not do in your own time is your business." Then added quite disapprovingly, "and if that includes frolicking with your clients….well, there is nothing I can do about that." She stopped working and looked at him, daring him to say something.

"Frolicking?" Chance had to smile at her. He knew where this was coming from and why she was angry so he couldn't return the anger, she actually seemed irresistible to him right now. Her hair wet and messed, her eye make-up some what smudge under her eyes. Maybe he had read her wrong. Maybe she does care. She sure did seem jealous right now.

His mind wondered back to his childhood, or lack thereof, and for a flash moment wished he'd had a mother to explain this complicated, yet fascinating creature called woman!

She just continued to stare at him with a look of indifference.

"Ilsa," he moved around her desk and sat on the edge beside her. "She had a tracking device planted on her somewhere, we were being chased by every bad cop in the city." Ilsa shifted her body away from him and looked in the other direction of him as he spoke. "They were kill first, with no intent to ask questions later!"

Ilsa still wouldn't look at him.

He got up off the desk, grabbed her chair and spun it to face him. Leaned over and placed both hands on her arm rest but she still would not make eye contact, he slowly added, "the only way to find the tracking device was to eliminate the possibilities, one by one remove pieces of the equation. She was still being tracked after her phone was thrown away."

Chance briefly smiled on the inside at the memory of Allyson throwing her phone out of the car window instead of just removing it from herself.

"We had to go to the next step, removing her clothes to find the device." Chance said as innocently as he could looking at Ilsa sideways, was she warming up or was he making it worse?

She finally met his eyes, but still had a stubborn look in hers. "Really, the only way to find the device was for her to get nude for you, how convenient!" She now intensified her gaze.

"Nude? Na, not nude, she still had her underwear on. Look, Ilsa, she got into the back seat of the car. I was driving like a mad man trying to prevent some very aggressive cops from killing us."

Chance now straighten up, "it's not like I could see….…..much." He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, he was now teasing her, lightening the mood. "Wait a minute…why do you care so much about this?" He was now smirking with his hands back on his hips.

Ilsa who had been observing him with an annoyed look on her face now immediately began to blush and turned away embarrassed.

Chance was still grinning at Ilsa, waiting for her to say something when Winston popped his head in, Chance and Ilsa turned to him. "Hey you two, whatever is going on here it'll have to wait." He banged his hand two times on the door frame, "we need to get the travel arrangements in place and get going." He swiftly walked away.

Chance turned back to a stunned Ilsa and gestured towards the conference room. "After you," he smiled.

She gave him a nasty but somewhat teasing look, she had a hard time staying mad at him, especially when he smiled like that, she put her hands on her desk and pushed herself up and purposely brushed her body against him as she went by.

Chance watched her leave allowing his eyes to linger on her figure, up and down and he then began to follow her….still smiling.

I've written Ames out of this story to keep it more about Chance and Ilsa, as it's main purpose is to examine their relationship and it's many complexities. Having too many characters clog this process up too much.