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Fiction: Feelings

Title: Feelings
Author: S> Wynter
Fandom: Human Target
Pairing: Chance/Guerrero
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Human Target, and I am not making any money from this story. Do not sue, I am broke anyway.
Warning: I edited it, but that and a buck and get you something from McDonald's Dollar Menu.
Summary: Set after “Sanctuary” – Chance confronts his fears that Guerrero may no longer want to work with him and Guerrero will do anything to protect the man he loves… even from himself.
Dedication: The long promised story to elendar

Chance couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been taking Guerrero for granted. He had a reputation for being a mastermind at covert operations and knowing all the right people to get the job done; he never was without work when he wanted it. His fee was always high, but Guerrero was worth every single penny. Winston may argue that statement though. Chance smiled to himself. They made a great team the three of them. They balanced each other out…
And now that sonovabitch may be leaving him. What did he do? What did he say? Chance replayed every conversation they had in the past few weeks and could come up with nothing. He was driving himself crazy trying to figure out what was going on or why he didn’t realize how much he needed Guerrero around. The thought of him leaving hurt worse than physical wound he ever received. No matter what he had to make this right, he couldn’t imagine life without him, hell it wouldn’t be much of a life.
Chance sat up straight in his chair, the force his feelings threatening to overwhelm him if he was not careful. He had to see Guerrero tonight.

Guerrero got rid of the body, and the evidence with the same thoroughness he gave to all his jobs. He watched the file on Katherine burn until there was nothing left of it. He gathered up the ashes in an old coffee can and would deal with them later. He was furious, all of that effort and careful planning and he still had no clue who was after Chance. It could be anyone, he made quite a few enemies when he left, but at least he knew there was one less gun pointed in Chance’s direction and that would have to do for now.
His mobile rang again, and again it was Winston. Damn him to hell, what part of he-was-busy-now-go-away could the former cop not understand. He accepted the call and was prepared to give Winston a piece of his mind when Winston asked, “Have you seen Chance?”
“Chance? No. Why?”
“I can’t find the damn man anywhere. He isn’t picking up his phone and no where to be found.”
“Maybe he just wants to be left alone a little while? He doesn’t need a nanny, Winston.”
“If you saw the way he was acting you’d be concerned to, oh wait, that’s right you were too busy on your ‘other job’…”
“I do not work for you,” Guerrero reminded him.
“I swear if Chance told me to call you one more time…”
“Chance kept telling you to call me?”
“He didn’t want to take a phone into the monastery.”
“Chance? In a monastery? Seriously.”
“See all the stuff you miss when you don’t pick up your phone.”
Guerrero shrugged, he couldn’t argue that point, but he couldn’t imagine Chance in a cowl. Well maybe he could. Now he had a new fantasy to add to his already extensive list, defiling monk-Chance in a confession box. “Are you listening to me?” Winston asked.
“No, not really,” Guerrero said and Winston hung up on him. He smirked, serves the bastard right for constantly calling him. He sighed, as much as he wanted to indulge in his new fantasy back at his loft, he knew he would have to try to find Chance just to make sure that he was ok. He got back into his truck and headed back into the city, he needed to change clothes and figure out what he was going to say to Chance. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to make an excuse for why he wasn’t with them in Canada, why he felt sort of guilty when he was back here making sure that Chance remained safe, but he did.
Damn, if being Christopher Chance’s friend was bad, being in love with him was a hundred times worse.
Guerrero pulled into the parking garage behind his building and parked in his usual spot. He went into his building through the back entrance and walked up the five flights of stairs. He unlocked the door to his hallway and checked that it locked behind him, before typing in the security code to his loft.
He jumped in the shower and put on a set of fresh clothes, before finally picking up his mobile phone still unsure what he was going to say or if Chance would even pick up. Still he had to try. The buzzer rang, and Guerrero almost jumped out of his skin, someone was at the front of the building to see him. He pushed in the intercom button. “Who is it?”
“It’s Chance. Was wondering if you had dinner yet. Louie’s Diner, my treat.”
“Be right down,” Guerrero said and released the button. Well saved him a phone call, but Winston was right, damn him, Chance didn’t sound like himself.

Chance sat down on the stoup and waited for Guerrero to come down. He knew it was a pretty safe bet that Guerrero wouldn’t turn down a free meal, especially at Louie’s, but he still did not know what to say to him. He heard the front door open and he immediately stood up and turned around. He could smell the faint hint of lavender from that body lotion he liked so much, he must have just gotten out of the shower, “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”
“What? No, dude, I got home not long after you buzzed.”
“Oh ok, good,” Chance said, “shall we?”
“Sure, Louie’s is just a few blocks, want to drive or walk?”
“Walking sounds good.”
Guerrero nodded and they started to walk. There wasn’t much conversation, which wasn’t like them. They always had something to talk about, this was driving Chance crazy, he was afraid if the ice didn’t break soon that he was going to explode and say all of those sickeningly sentimental things that would make Guerrero run for the hills.
“So… I understand you went to a monastery.”
Finally! “And I didn’t have to dodge too many lightening bolts.”
There that got Guerrero to smile a little bit, “I’m glad to hear it. The singed Einstein look wouldn’t be a good one for you.”
“Probably not,” Chance laughed.
“Just one question, where in the world did you get a cowl?”
“A what?”
“Monks robes.”
“Don’t ask, but that reminds me I still have to return it.”
“You still have it?” Guerrero asked, his right eyebrow rose.
“Yes, of course, why do you want to use it?”
“No, I… stupid question.”
The silence was back as Chance opened up the door to Louie’s and gestured for Guerrero to go first, which earned him another raised eyebrow, but he went in. They sat down at the usual table and Stella, their normal waitress and probably one of Guerrero’s informants, walked right up to them. “Evening, gentleman, special tonight is meatloaf with a choice of two sides or a hot turkey sandwich with two sides. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Coffee,” Guerrero said, “strong, from one of the pots that have been sitting around for a while and a glass of water.”
“Yes, Sir,” she turned to Chance, “and for you?”
“One of your famous chocolate cokes, Stella.”
The older woman smiled, “Comin’ right up.”
She handed them menus and walked around to get their drinks. They really didn’t need menus, Chance had the menu memorized. This was their place, Winston didn’t even know it existed; somewhere they went to be alone and talk about whatever. “I may have to do an extra hour of cardio in the gym tomorrow, but I think I may indulge in some bacon cheese fries.”
“With a chocolate coke? Dude, you will be up all night.”
“I probably will be anyway,” Chance admitted.
Guerrero peered over the top of his menu, “What happened?”
“Just a lot to think about.”
Guerrero looked back down at the menu, his voice a touch softer, “Want to talk about it?”
“Maybe later.”
He just nodded and said, “I think I will have the steak and fried eggs breakfast.”
“Speaking of someone who will not be sleeping tonight.”
“A couple of antacids and I’ll be out like a light.”
“If you say so.”
Stella walked back with their drinks and took their orders. They handed her the menus and sipped their drinks in silence. “I have to ask you something,” Chance said.
“If it’s about my job today don’t bother,” Guerrero said.
“Do you want to become a partner in the business?”
“You heard me.”
“Does Winston know about this?”
“I’ve run the idea past him a few times.”
“And I am sure he was not overjoyed at the idea. Why would you ask me that?”
“You have done a lot for the business and I thought it was only fair…”
“Did you hit your head up in Canada?”
“No, I just want to be fair and I haven’t exactly been very fair to you.”
“You did hit your head. I will have to have a talk with Winston about taking better care of you.”
Chance rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, “I didn’t hit my head, I just do not want… well…”
“I do not want a stake in the business, Chance, I’m fine as a consultant,” Guerrero said, openly staring at him.
Chance took another sip of his soda, “Nothing, sorry, it’s just been a rough day.”
Guerrero opened his mouth to say something, but Stella appeared with the food. “Enjoy gentlemen.”
“Thanks, Stella,” Chance said with a smile.

Chance paid for dinner just as he said he would, Guerrero did not know what to say or do to try to reassure Chance. He saw it, when he offered him part of the business, he was afraid. What the hell happened in Canada? He would have to pay Winston a visit tomorrow and find out. No one hurts Chance, no one. If they were still alive they wouldn’t be for much longer. “I’ve got a bottle of Grey Goose back at the loft,” Guerrero said, “interested?”
“Sure, sounds good.”

Guerrero poured them two small glasses of vodka and handed a glass to Chance. “I’m sorry for what I said back at Louie’s, I don’t know what got into me.”
“It’s ok, it’s been a rough day all the way around.”
Chance nodded and took a drink, “It’s late, I guess I should let you get to bed.”
“I’m not tired, Chance, why don’t you just tell me what is on your mind? It’s me.”
“I know it’s you, which is what is making this hard.”
“Ok, now I know something is wrong,” Guerrero said, sitting down next to him, “are you upset that I took another job because that’s shit…”
“No, I mean… not upset because you took another job, I know how much you are worth and I cannot pay you anywhere near that. Hell, I realized half way through this case that I have been a complete idiot and taking you for granted; I’m afr… concerned that one day I am going to wake up and you aren’t going to be there. That you are going to have enough of my bull shit and just leave.”
“Chance, man, that isn’t going to happen,” he said, taking Chance’s hand.
“I’m surprised you haven’t left already,” Chance said, squeezing Guerrero’s hand.
“I’m not going anywhere. After everything we’ve been through you are pretty much stuck with me.”
“I don’t understand why.”
“Dude, seriously,” Guerrero said, looking straight into Chance’s eyes, “one job doesn’t mean anything. It is just something I had to do.”
Chance nodded and looked down, “I’m sorry I took you for granted. I won’t do it again.”
Guerrero took his free hand and hooked his index finger under Chance’s chin and slowly raised his head. “You never took,” Guerrero started to say and then stopped his heart suddenly in his throat. The look in his eyes was raw emotion: fear, regret and something else. Guerrero’s palms started to sweat a little bit and tried to ignore what that look could mean.
His thumb caressed Chance’s lower lip, and Chance’s eyes darkened slightly. “Chance?”
“I think you should leave before we do something you may regret.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“I’m not a good person, if you do not leave now…”
Chance leaned forward and kissed him, the kiss was gentle and sweet; Guerrero thought he was tripping out on some wonderful drug as he kissed back. He cupped the back of Chance’s head with his free hand, the other still holding on to Chance’s. He greedily took over the kiss, finally answering that question that had haunted him late at night: what kind of kisser was Christopher Chance? Guerrero would attest he was a damn good kisser. “I missed you,” Chance muttered between kisses.
The sound of Chance’s voice was like cold water being splashed over him. As much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t let himself do this. He was not a good person and it would be ever so easy to get Chance into his bed tonight and have his very wicked way with him. So what if he was emotional vulnerable? He was an adult and could make his own choices. He wouldn’t be the first to complete a walk of shame in the morning, nor would he hold it against him, he told him to leave, offered him a way out. Chance was just too stupid to take it. Guerrero stopped kissing Chance and leaned forward, putting his forehead on the juncture between Chance’s neck and right shoulder. He couldn’t do it. He swore he would protect Chance no matter what and what Chance needed right now was to be protected from him.
“You need to leave. Now.”
“I don’t under…”
“What part of go now do you not understand?” he asked, picking his head up.
“I’m not one of those girls that you sleep with just to feel better.”
“That isn’t what I meant…”
“It isn’t? Then maybe you just think I’m easy.”
“Of course not!”
“Oh? So what you are telling me is you had some sort of epiphany and are now madly in love with me? I told you I wasn’t going anywhere and I meant it, you don’t have to sleep with me.”
“You think that is what this about?”
“You tell me what you would think if the situation was reversed,” he challenged and felt a squeeze on his hand. Dammit, he had forgotten they were still holding hands. This conversation really didn’t have the bite Guerrero needed it to if they were still holding fucking hands. He tried to let go, but for some reason his hand refused to cooperate. Chance stood up and slowly let go of Guerrero’s hand, “You are right. I am sorry. I will let myself out.”

Guerrero didn’t get any sleep that night. He felt like hell the next day, nauseated and emotionally raw. He had done what he needed to do, he got Chance out of a bad situation but he felt like a complete asshole. He grabbed a cup of coffee from The Donut Hole and went into the office. Winston was there, sitting at his desk looking through some files, he looked up a moment and grumbled some sort of greeting. Ok, greeting may be too nice of a term, but whatever. “Can’t find your own work today?” Winston asked.
“Awww, did you miss me?”
“Shut up,” he said, “found Chance last night. Said you talked some sense into him. I don’t know what you said, but it worked.”
“Glad to know I helped,” Guerrero said, feeling even more miserable.
“I do not understand you two sometimes, I try to talk to him about some things and it is like it goes over his head, you just say a few words and it finally clicks. It’s almost creepy.”
Guerrero shrugged, “So is there work or not?”
“I have an interview this morning at 10 o’clock. I’ll call you if we take the job that is if you will answer your phone.”
“I’m at Chance’s beck and call today.”
“I like the sound of that,” Chance said, peeking his head in, “hey, Winston, did I hear you say 10 o’clock.”
“Yes, why?” Winston said, obviously suspicious.
“Oh no reason,” he turned to Guerrero, “we got some time to kill you have any plans this morning?”
“I guess I do now,” he walked over to Chance and got one of those smiles, he felt instantly better as if the weight of the world was suddenly off his shoulders. Chance didn’t hate him. Everything would return back to normal. They walked out of the office and Chance called the elevator, and turned to face Guerrero, “Did you eat breakfast?”
“Just got some coffee, dude.”
“Come on, let’s grab breakfast.”
“I almost ruined whatever this,” he gestured between them, “but luckily you had the good sense to save it. You are a good man, probably the best I have ever known, and I want to know where this goes.”
“Well right now I think it’s going to breakfast, and this time is my treat.”
“Don’t worry; I will try to pass it off as a business expense to Winston.”