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

Chance came back to the warehouse in the early hours of the next day. He had wanted to stay but Jamie had sent him away, stating she needed a couple of hours to think about everything.

"You're always overthinking stuff", he had mumbled, planting kisses on her glowing skin.

She had giggled, rolled him over onto his back in a mock wrestling move and kissed his mouth, soft and passionately, but way too briefly. "I'm serious about this", she had said, climbing off him and smacking his shoulder to rouse him.

"But when I'm allowed to come back you wear that gown for me that earned you the Queen of Style title, my lady."

Jamie hadn't reacted for a moment so long, he had wondered if finally exhaustion had been kicking in and she had fallen asleep with her eyes still open.

"No, I'll put it on now", she had then suddenly said, getting to her feet. "It's a gown designed to be worn at night. Daylight chases its magic away."

"Your words?"

Jamie had looked at him in surprise. "No, Cass' words… She said that when we bought it. Back then I didn't understand what she was talking about… now it makes sense…."

It had taken her twenty minutes to put her dress on. After the long day and the activities of the night Chance had felt ready to close his eyes and get a wink of sleep, but on the other hand… his fine hearing sense could make out every delicate rustle of the gown's chiffon cloth, fueling fantasies about how it would feel to remove the soft fabric from her smooth skin again.

When she had finally stepped out of the bathroom, Chance had only been able to agree with Cass: At night this was a magic dress. Its dark ruby color seemed to radiate in the silver moonlight seeping in through the windows. Truly a sight to behold.

Not that it had stopped him from removing it again.

Afterwards – a long time afterwards – she had clambered out of bed again, picked up the dress from the floor and held it in front of her while looking at the mirror.

"You are beautiful", Chance had breathed into her ear, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"This is the first time I really like this dress", she had replied, almost absent-mindedly. "You really got to go now."

… … …

Chance knew something was up the moment he saw Guerrero sitting on the sofa of his living-room. He was perched on the edge of it, like some sort of vulture, one of those constantly hunched over types with huge gray wings, crooked beaks and bald heads. Granted, Guerrero wasn't bald, but the rest… you get the idea.

It didn't help that he hadn't turned on any lights so that he was sitting in semi-darkness, barely visible against the dim shimmer from the city's numerous streetlamps, car headlights and other sources of illumination.

Quite the reminder of old times… Guerrero was sitting in classic assassin position when the hit was a personal issue and the exchange of a couple of words was required before things got down to business.

"Did I piss the wrong people off? Did someone finally name an amount that outweighs your loyalty?" Chance flopped down onto the sofa right next to his friend.

Guerrero's mouth didn't even twitch. Instead he poured both of them a drink.

"Job came in. Rio de Janeiro. Thought we could use your old friend Paloma as our contact on the spot."

"Paloma?" Chance shook his head in disbelief. "Last time we worked with Paloma Winston ended up in immigration custody, you were portrayed by a nude drawing class and I woke up in a morgue."

"Your definition of fun, dude."

"What became of the "enough with the troublesome ex-girlfriends"-rule?" Chance's voice was slowly losing its playful tone. Something was up.

"Should have respected your privacy, bro."

This was the closest thing to an apology Chance had ever heard from his friend. Now he was alarmed. As in "red alert status".

"Spill it out already."

Guerrero didn't say a word.

"There's no job in Rio, right? Why the hell do you suddenly want me to see Paloma again? What about Jamie?"

Again Guerrero didn't say anything. He didn't need to, though. Chance knew he was bang on target.

"You just had to dig around, hadn't you? What the hell did you find out? Drugs? Prostitution? An array of dead ex-husbands? Whatever it is, I don't…"

"It's not her past, bro. It's her future. She doesn't have one."

Somewhere in the back of his mind Chance appreciated Guerrero's bluntness. There was just no nice way to break news like that. Beating around the bush usually made things only more painful. But at this particular moment the shock and grief outweighed everything else.

"Aneurysm, dude. Discovered a couple of months ago. Prognosis: Less than a year."

Chance didn't doubt Guerrero's words. He knew his friend would never ever tell him something like that if he hadn't checked and re-checked the facts.

"Let's go to Rio, dude. You've got enough bodies in your life already, you don't need another one." Guerrero pushed the drink towards Chance.

Chance didn't take it. For a very long time he didn't move at all. Not even his breathing rate changed, but Guerrero could sense the tension building up inside of him. He was ready to explode. Damn, Jamie had managed to get through his armor….

"I get it, dude. I wouldn't let you meddle in my affairs either", Guerrero said, got up, briefly touched Chance shoulder and walked towards the door. "Come on, I'll give you a lift."

Now Chance was puzzled.

"Guess you'll want to talk to her… You don't really think I'll let you ride your motorbike in that state of mind, do you?"

… … …

When they arrived at Jamie's apartment – the sun had just risen – a hearse was just leaving. A woman was standing on the sidewalk, huddled in a jacket too heavy for the mild Californian climate.

"Cass?" Chance asked, voice rough as sandpaper.

"You're Chris, aren't you? I was already heading to the airport when she called me…. arrived a couple of hours ago… had a feeling… She looked very peaceful, as if she was sleeping… not much of a consolation, I know."

Tears were running down her face in one thick, constant stream.

"I knew this day would come… but still… she knew it, too… left a letter for you…" With shaking hands Cassandra gave Chance an envelope.

… … …

Chance waited with reading Jamie's letter till he was back at the warehouse, alone except for Carmine.

When I knew I was going to die I looked back at my life and wondered if I had ever really lived. Cass encouraged me to try out all the things I had always been too scared for, too well-composed, too no-nonsense… but it didn't work. I did as she said, made new experiences, even moved away to a city that so many people describe as the most beautiful place on earth. But I never "got" it… I never felt what I was supposed to feel: Happiness, laughter, joy… It was all meaningless to me. Just like back home the world still seemed colored in nothing but shades of gray. And then you came… Before we met I thought I was beyond rescue… you saved my life.

Winston and Guerrero arrived at the warehouse about half an hour after Chance had finished reading the letter. The expression on Winston's face was easy to decipher: Was this too much? Too similar to losing Katherine? Had Jamie's death opened his most terrible wound?

"Don't worry…" Chance poured all of them a drink. "I know I saved her. I know."

And that was all that needed to be said for the rest of the day.