Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
A/N: This is a missing scene to chapter 13 of Scarlet Garter's wonderful story "CC, Julia the witch and the gunfight at OK corral". If you haven't read it yet, please check it out and leave a review, it's great writing!
"Seriously, Mr. Chance, this can't be that difficult." Kate Holliday's muffled voice from the other side of the door. "You do that in the future, too, don't you? It might be a parallel future, but still… Or are men in your time too…"
"Kate!" Only after the word had angrily left his mouth Chance remembered that, parallel universe or not, in the 19th century men weren't supposed to talk to women like that. And manners aside, no matter what century or universe you were in, it was never wise to talk to a witch like that. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but this doesn't get any easier with someone engaging me in conversation while I'm trying to…"
Short pause, then: "Oh, in that case, I'll wait with the others."
Yeah, great, reminding him that half a dozen women were waiting in the other room till he was done was making it a lot easier, thanks.
Maggie Shaw had given him an earthen jar, which was at least better than a glass, but still… they'd all see the … contents… once they emptied it into the cauldron. Jeez, this was straight from the "problems I never thought I'd have"-category.
"Mr. Chance! This potion can't be heated forever! Hurry up or we'll send in Julia to lend a hand!"
Laudanum or not, trust Mattie Earp not to mince words…
Chance rolled his eyes. This was getting better and better. Now he had to suppress the image of six witches in various stages of impatience waiting in the kitchen while number seven was attempting to assist…
An indignant voice from the kitchen startled him momentarily from his thoughts. "Excuse me?" Ah, Julia wasn't too keen on the idea either.
Good… but what were they going to do next? Offer to send in Cedric?
Just then a strange sound, something between a snort, a knock and a harrumph, caught his attention.
Something big, long and equipped with huge nostrils was tapping against the fragile window of the room. Speak of the devil… Cedric, in his equine form!
"Having a field day, aren't you?"
But the horse's dark eyes showed no sign of triumph, only concern. This idiot on two legs was costing his Julia vital time! He lowered his head to the ground, out of Chance's sight, and when he raised it again, he was holding something with his teeth…
Julia's black negligee, the black see-through piece she had worn the night they had… As Chance took hold of it, the soft fabric sent a vibrant shiver pulsating through his body. Witchcraft? Haptic memory? Whatever it was, it was working.
For my Julia, the look on Cedric's face said.
Chance nodded, a respectful gesture of temporary truce from man to broom in dire times, when petty rivalries counted no more.
Then he quickly pulled the curtains shut.
Finally filling that jar posed no problem anymore.