Human Target fic: Down Time
Title: Down Time
Author: Tree979
Summary: Chance and Guerrero relaxing is not very relaxing for Ilsa
Fandom: Human Target
Characters: Chance, Guerrero, Winston, Ilsa, Ames
Prompt: Free time
Warnings: Very strong language
Genre: General
Permission to archive to WWOMB: Yes
Acknowledgments/Notes:
Disclaimer. Human Target does not belong to me. no money made in this
Comm/List Written for: cedricsowner on fanfiction.net
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Down Time
“Mr Winston, thank goodness you’re here!” Ilsa Pucci had grabbed hold of his arm and began pulling him insistently out of the elevator.
He didn’t even have time to utter a polite hello in return as she launched herself back in to the verbal onslaught that had disturbed his lazy Sunday morning. He’d just got himself settled in his new reclining chair with his coffee and a newspaper when his phone rang. The armchair was real leather, a luxury he’d treated himself to now Mrs Pucci was bank-rolling their operation and pay checks were no longer a hit-and-miss affair. Ilsa’s voice had cut through his long awaited morning of rest and solitude like an industrial laser and although he hadn’t been able to catch the specific details of her garbled plea for assistance, he had heard enough to understand that his presence was required at the office as a matter of urgency.
“What the problem, Mrs Pucci?” He asked, trying not to sound as fed up as he felt as he allowed her to drag him from the elevator.
“ A dear friend of mine, Melissa Ponderton, of the KUSU foundation - you may have heard of her? No? Well never mind.- Melissa Ponderton is in town at the moment and I met her for drinks last night. We were talking about our current projects and the subject of the conversation turned to the relative benefits and disadvantages of holding video conference calls…”
Winston hoped Ilsa was going to get to the point soon, after all he left a very comfortable chair and some fine gourmet coffee to come in and sort out whatever this problem was. Had he not caught the phrases ‘absolute carnage’ and ‘Chance and Guerrero trying to kill each other’ he doubted he’d even have sacrificed his morning and come in at all.
“… so naturally I told her about the excellent facilities we have here and one thing led to another and now the wretched woman is due to turn up with a couple of her IT co-ordinators to inspect the bloody facilities!”
“I don’t think it’s very wise to use this office as a showroom, Mrs Pucci.” Winston said.
“Well yes!” Isla replied impatiently. “I know that! It’s just that the blasted woman kept rubbing my nose in the fact that the Marshall Pucci Foundation was put on a damn waiting list for the upgrades for the ILSM interface last year whereas KUSU jumped to the head of the queue because her son-in-law is head of research and development! I couldn’t resist showing off that we already have the new TR-2600 six months before it even hits the market and then of course she wanted to see the damn thing! What was I supposed to do? She practically called me a liar to my face! They‘re going to be here in an hour!”
Winston mentally sifted through the deluge of information Ilsa had just hurled at him and concluded that the crux of the matter was that she wanted to show off the fact that she had a new toy and wanted to rub her rival’s face in it. So much for this Ponderton woman being a ‘dear friend’.
“So what’s the problem?” Winston asked, resigned to the fact that it seemed his Sunday had been disrupted for no urgent reason at all.
“Can’t you hear them?” She demanded.
Winston tilted his head and listened. Now that Ilsa had finally stopped talking he found he could hear something. It sounded like the slightly muffled sound of gunfire accompanied by a great deal of swearing. As he listened he easily picked out the familiar sound of Chance and Guerrero’s voices.
“What the hell…?” Winston followed the sound of gunfire and cursing to the conference room where he immediately saw the cause of Mrs Pucci’s concern.
“Fuckin’ team killing noobs.” Guerrero growled.
“Anyone got a target? I’ve got an air strike ready to go!” Chance said, ignoring Guerrero’s glare in his direction.
The two men had hooked up two Xbox 360s to the huge, high definition screens in the conference room and were standing about three feet away from the giant displays, each with a game controller in hand and a head set on. The now deafening sound of gunfire Winston had heard from all the way out by the elevator turned out to be the latest edition of Call of Duty. Winston groaned. The last Halo release had been bad enough when they still had their old office setup, but now Guerrero and Chance had access to the huge high definition screens in the new conference room prying them away from the new game was going to be even more difficult.
“How awesome is this?” Ames shouted over the noise of synthesised gunfire.
Winston hadn’t even noticed her sitting cross legged on the floor. He sighed and walked round to the control panel that would allow him to shut the screens off.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Chance warned him before letting out a whoop of triumph. “GOT HIM! That tattoomonster bastard has spawn killed me three times this game!”
Winston paused with his hand over the controls. Ames caught his eye and shook her head, pointing at a bullet hole in the wall behind him.
“I already tried that Mr Winston.” Ilsa shouted. “Mr Guerrero said that shot was a warning and the next person who tried to er… interfere with their game would be shot through the head.”
Winston quickly withdrew his hand and looked at the two men absorbed in their game. Sure enough, now he was looking for it, he could clearly see the faint outline of a gun tucked in to the back of Guerrero’s jeans underneath his shirt.
“No way dude!” Guerrero snarled. “I shot that prick point-blank with a AK47! That should have taken his fuckin’ head off! How come he shoots me with a 9mm pistol and I’m dead?”
“Yeah, the AK47s in Modern Warfare 2 had a bit more kick to them.” Chance commiserated. “Stryder2210 is sponging like a bastard though. Maybe it’s a glitch.”
“How long have they been playing?” Winston asking, shouting above the noise of gunfire and cursing.
“Since about eight o’clock last night!” Ames replied.
Winston frowned and looked at his watch. It was 10am. Fourteen hours solid game play wasn’t even a personal best for those two, he sighed and resigned himself to the fact he’d have to call in the big guns.
“Camping motherfucker!” Guerrero said grinning. “Serves the sonofabitch right! Who is dumb enough to hide out behind the same fuckin’ rock four times in a row?”
“Ames!” Winston beckoned her over to the doorway. “I need you to run an errand.
“But Chance said I could have a go in a minute!” She whined.
“And what time did he say that?” Winston asked.
“At about midnight last night.” She admitted grudgingly.
“Then I think you’ve got plenty of time to do this errand.” Winston said handing her some money and instructing her what to buy.
Twenty minutes later the smell of frying bacon worked its magic. Winston had cooked up a storm with plates of eggs, hash browns, sausage, toast, waffles and pancakes spread over the kitchen tables as well as a selection of shop bought muffins and pastries. Ilsa watched with fascination as Chance and Guerrero wandered in, still discussing their game, and sat down. They began to devour the enormous spread laid out in front of them without so much as a word of thanks.
“Forget it Ames.” Winston said when he saw her trying to sneak back to the conference room to take her long awaited turn on Xbox game.
“But…”
“Mrs Pucci needs to use the conference suite today. You’ll have to have a go another time.” His stern tone left no room for argument so she sat down at the table and helped herself to a muffin, picking bits off and eating them as she glared sulkily at Winston.
“Mr. Winston, thank you!” Ilsa purred. “I would never have thought of luring them away like that!”
“Don’t mention it.” He replied, swallowing his feelings on being dragged in to work to deal with a couple of over-grown kids on his morning off for the sake of keeping the boss happy. “It only really works if they’ve been playing for over eight hours. Any less than that and you might only dislodge one of them, not both.”
“You’ve done this before?” She asked.
Winston nodded.
“Well, I have a lot to learn about dealing with those two.” She said. “They’re not exactly what I’m used to dealing with when it comes to employees!”
“There’s one thing you need to remember, Mrs Pucci.” Winston said. “If you’re going to use the carrot and stick approach, they always have a bigger stick than anything you can threaten them with so you need to make sure you have one hell of a carrot to distract them.”
Ilsa laughed and Winston looked at her sternly, to let her know he wasn’t exactly joking.
“Well, I’m glad I have you to guide me in these matters.” She said.
Winston nodded, glad that she seemed to have got the message.
“We’d better get the conference room cleared up before your friend arrives. It won’t take them long to get through all that food and if the games consoles are still connected when they’re done eating it will be another twelve hours or so before we can use the food distraction again.”
Author: Tree979
Summary: Chance and Guerrero relaxing is not very relaxing for Ilsa
Fandom: Human Target
Characters: Chance, Guerrero, Winston, Ilsa, Ames
Prompt: Free time
Warnings: Very strong language
Genre: General
Permission to archive to WWOMB: Yes
Acknowledgments/Notes:
Disclaimer. Human Target does not belong to me. no money made in this
Comm/List Written for: cedricsowner on fanfiction.net
--------------------------------------------------------
Down Time
“Mr Winston, thank goodness you’re here!” Ilsa Pucci had grabbed hold of his arm and began pulling him insistently out of the elevator.
He didn’t even have time to utter a polite hello in return as she launched herself back in to the verbal onslaught that had disturbed his lazy Sunday morning. He’d just got himself settled in his new reclining chair with his coffee and a newspaper when his phone rang. The armchair was real leather, a luxury he’d treated himself to now Mrs Pucci was bank-rolling their operation and pay checks were no longer a hit-and-miss affair. Ilsa’s voice had cut through his long awaited morning of rest and solitude like an industrial laser and although he hadn’t been able to catch the specific details of her garbled plea for assistance, he had heard enough to understand that his presence was required at the office as a matter of urgency.
“What the problem, Mrs Pucci?” He asked, trying not to sound as fed up as he felt as he allowed her to drag him from the elevator.
“ A dear friend of mine, Melissa Ponderton, of the KUSU foundation - you may have heard of her? No? Well never mind.- Melissa Ponderton is in town at the moment and I met her for drinks last night. We were talking about our current projects and the subject of the conversation turned to the relative benefits and disadvantages of holding video conference calls…”
Winston hoped Ilsa was going to get to the point soon, after all he left a very comfortable chair and some fine gourmet coffee to come in and sort out whatever this problem was. Had he not caught the phrases ‘absolute carnage’ and ‘Chance and Guerrero trying to kill each other’ he doubted he’d even have sacrificed his morning and come in at all.
“… so naturally I told her about the excellent facilities we have here and one thing led to another and now the wretched woman is due to turn up with a couple of her IT co-ordinators to inspect the bloody facilities!”
“I don’t think it’s very wise to use this office as a showroom, Mrs Pucci.” Winston said.
“Well yes!” Isla replied impatiently. “I know that! It’s just that the blasted woman kept rubbing my nose in the fact that the Marshall Pucci Foundation was put on a damn waiting list for the upgrades for the ILSM interface last year whereas KUSU jumped to the head of the queue because her son-in-law is head of research and development! I couldn’t resist showing off that we already have the new TR-2600 six months before it even hits the market and then of course she wanted to see the damn thing! What was I supposed to do? She practically called me a liar to my face! They‘re going to be here in an hour!”
Winston mentally sifted through the deluge of information Ilsa had just hurled at him and concluded that the crux of the matter was that she wanted to show off the fact that she had a new toy and wanted to rub her rival’s face in it. So much for this Ponderton woman being a ‘dear friend’.
“So what’s the problem?” Winston asked, resigned to the fact that it seemed his Sunday had been disrupted for no urgent reason at all.
“Can’t you hear them?” She demanded.
Winston tilted his head and listened. Now that Ilsa had finally stopped talking he found he could hear something. It sounded like the slightly muffled sound of gunfire accompanied by a great deal of swearing. As he listened he easily picked out the familiar sound of Chance and Guerrero’s voices.
“What the hell…?” Winston followed the sound of gunfire and cursing to the conference room where he immediately saw the cause of Mrs Pucci’s concern.
“Fuckin’ team killing noobs.” Guerrero growled.
“Anyone got a target? I’ve got an air strike ready to go!” Chance said, ignoring Guerrero’s glare in his direction.
The two men had hooked up two Xbox 360s to the huge, high definition screens in the conference room and were standing about three feet away from the giant displays, each with a game controller in hand and a head set on. The now deafening sound of gunfire Winston had heard from all the way out by the elevator turned out to be the latest edition of Call of Duty. Winston groaned. The last Halo release had been bad enough when they still had their old office setup, but now Guerrero and Chance had access to the huge high definition screens in the new conference room prying them away from the new game was going to be even more difficult.
“How awesome is this?” Ames shouted over the noise of synthesised gunfire.
Winston hadn’t even noticed her sitting cross legged on the floor. He sighed and walked round to the control panel that would allow him to shut the screens off.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Chance warned him before letting out a whoop of triumph. “GOT HIM! That tattoomonster bastard has spawn killed me three times this game!”
Winston paused with his hand over the controls. Ames caught his eye and shook her head, pointing at a bullet hole in the wall behind him.
“I already tried that Mr Winston.” Ilsa shouted. “Mr Guerrero said that shot was a warning and the next person who tried to er… interfere with their game would be shot through the head.”
Winston quickly withdrew his hand and looked at the two men absorbed in their game. Sure enough, now he was looking for it, he could clearly see the faint outline of a gun tucked in to the back of Guerrero’s jeans underneath his shirt.
“No way dude!” Guerrero snarled. “I shot that prick point-blank with a AK47! That should have taken his fuckin’ head off! How come he shoots me with a 9mm pistol and I’m dead?”
“Yeah, the AK47s in Modern Warfare 2 had a bit more kick to them.” Chance commiserated. “Stryder2210 is sponging like a bastard though. Maybe it’s a glitch.”
“How long have they been playing?” Winston asking, shouting above the noise of gunfire and cursing.
“Since about eight o’clock last night!” Ames replied.
Winston frowned and looked at his watch. It was 10am. Fourteen hours solid game play wasn’t even a personal best for those two, he sighed and resigned himself to the fact he’d have to call in the big guns.
“Camping motherfucker!” Guerrero said grinning. “Serves the sonofabitch right! Who is dumb enough to hide out behind the same fuckin’ rock four times in a row?”
“Ames!” Winston beckoned her over to the doorway. “I need you to run an errand.
“But Chance said I could have a go in a minute!” She whined.
“And what time did he say that?” Winston asked.
“At about midnight last night.” She admitted grudgingly.
“Then I think you’ve got plenty of time to do this errand.” Winston said handing her some money and instructing her what to buy.
Twenty minutes later the smell of frying bacon worked its magic. Winston had cooked up a storm with plates of eggs, hash browns, sausage, toast, waffles and pancakes spread over the kitchen tables as well as a selection of shop bought muffins and pastries. Ilsa watched with fascination as Chance and Guerrero wandered in, still discussing their game, and sat down. They began to devour the enormous spread laid out in front of them without so much as a word of thanks.
“Forget it Ames.” Winston said when he saw her trying to sneak back to the conference room to take her long awaited turn on Xbox game.
“But…”
“Mrs Pucci needs to use the conference suite today. You’ll have to have a go another time.” His stern tone left no room for argument so she sat down at the table and helped herself to a muffin, picking bits off and eating them as she glared sulkily at Winston.
“Mr. Winston, thank you!” Ilsa purred. “I would never have thought of luring them away like that!”
“Don’t mention it.” He replied, swallowing his feelings on being dragged in to work to deal with a couple of over-grown kids on his morning off for the sake of keeping the boss happy. “It only really works if they’ve been playing for over eight hours. Any less than that and you might only dislodge one of them, not both.”
“You’ve done this before?” She asked.
Winston nodded.
“Well, I have a lot to learn about dealing with those two.” She said. “They’re not exactly what I’m used to dealing with when it comes to employees!”
“There’s one thing you need to remember, Mrs Pucci.” Winston said. “If you’re going to use the carrot and stick approach, they always have a bigger stick than anything you can threaten them with so you need to make sure you have one hell of a carrot to distract them.”
Ilsa laughed and Winston looked at her sternly, to let her know he wasn’t exactly joking.
“Well, I’m glad I have you to guide me in these matters.” She said.
Winston nodded, glad that she seemed to have got the message.
“We’d better get the conference room cleared up before your friend arrives. It won’t take them long to get through all that food and if the games consoles are still connected when they’re done eating it will be another twelve hours or so before we can use the food distraction again.”