Chapter 14

When sunlight filtered through the windows Saturday morning, Monica was the first to waken but she didn’t move a muscle. Andrew’s arm was still wrapped protectively around her and she was cuddled up against his side. His heartbeat was soothing and rhythmic beneath her ear and she closed her eyes on a sigh. This was how she wanted to wake up every single morning.

A slight shifting beneath her made her tilt her head up just as Andrew bent his to capture her lips in a kiss. "Good morning, angel."

"It just got better."

He chuckled and tenderly traced one hand down her arm. "If you let me up I’ll go make you breakfast in bed."

Grinning up at him she replied, "Actually, with all the time I’ve spent in this room, I’d prefer breakfast downstairs."

"Then you just give me fifteen minutes and come on down." He gently slipped from the bed and grabbed his sweatpants from the chair.

"Actually," she propped her head on her hand. "I’d be even happier if you let me help."

He gave her a little smirk. "Now you’re pushing your luck," he said, but he held out his hand and helped her from the bed.

Even once she was standing he didn’t let go of her hand, instead pulling her closer until they were only an inch apart. She stood on her toes and kissed him lightly.

"Could we do this every morning?"

"We can try, angel."

*****

The rest of the day passed very peacefully with Monica showing Andrew a hundred different ideas that she had for the nursery, and Andrew keeping the careful eye on his wife that had been second nature to him even before they were married. He was most concerned that she get enough to eat so when she spent some time on the computer searching different websites for baby cribs and bedding, he kept himself busy in the kitchen cooking. Lunch turned into a three-course meal.

He also slipped away for a few minutes to call Paul. The check that Paul had run on the timing of the shootings versus the timing of John’s calls had already proven that Monica was right, but there had still been the thought that it was all just a coincidence. Now Andrew wanted Paul to run another comparison and see if the shootings had been getting closer to the radio station. With the way the city was laid out, it was difficult to tell just by thinking about it, but he had a horrible feeling that he was right. They were definitely getting further away from the Bureau and he thought he knew why. The killer was hung up on making points to Monica. Getting closer to her workplace would certainly make a big one.

He was just about to hang up with the agent when he heard Alex’s voice in the background, insisting to talk to him.

"Alex?"

"I’ll be quick," she said. "I just wanted to know how Monica was doing." The slow emphasis on her words let Andrew know that she was asking about much more than his wife’s health.

"Better, Alex. Much better."

He could hear the sight of relief through the line. "Thank God." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I really thought I was gonna have to smack you around… and you know that would have made Paul start asking questions."

A light chuckle was his response. "I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Alex."

"Good…. Good. I just wanted to check. I won’t keep ya."

"Wait… wait one second," he stopped her from rushing to hang up. "I just wanted to tell you how much it means to me to know that you’re around, and looking out for Monica… even when I’m being a royal ass… in fact especially when I’m being a royal ass."

Alex smiled, although he couldn’t see it. "That’s what big sisters are for, silly. She means an awful lot to me, Andrew."

"I know. Me too."

"We’ll see you two tomorrow in church?" she asked hopefully.

"Definitely. I know Monica will leave the house for that."

"She’s not leaving the house?" Her voice held concern.

"I’ll explain it all tomorrow, Alex…by then maybe we’ll know just how complicated things are."

*****

After church on Sunday, the foursome returned to the angel’s house for breakfast and Alex and Monica insisted upon cooking, though Paul knew that there was an ulterior motive behind Alex’s lead in offering.

"You were right," Paul stated with a frown once the two women had vanished into the kitchen with Matthew in tow, "He’s getting closer and closer to the station with each shooting. Last victim was a five block jump from where it happened before."

"So, you’re saying he’s trying to get there faster?" Andrew’s hands were already clenching into fists.

"I’m saying he is definitely picking up the pace, if that is where he is headed."

"Damnit! I wanted to be wrong, Paul. I wanted you tell me that as the new guy on the block, I still had a lot to learn!"

"Andrew, buddy, listen. We’re still working off a hunch here. We have no valid proof that John is the guy we’re looking for," Paul tried to reason with him as he was afraid to not keep his options open.

But Andrew was already shaking his head, "I have all the proof I need, Paul. Monica is convinced it is him and I trust her instincts more than my own. What I don’t want is that son of a bitch within twenty miles of my wife!"

Paul let out a breath and almost regretted what he was about to say, "If she is right, if we’re right, then she is the best bet we have right now to catch him."

If he had expected Andrew to take his head off, which he did, Paul was disappointed when the angel turned back to face him, "I know, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. She’s pregnant, Paul and has been through the wringer lately."

"Are you going to tell her what we think is the truth?" He asked quietly. He wasn’t sure that letting Monica find out on her own that the shooter appeared to be getting closer to her was a wise idea, but he would try to follow Andrew’s lead.

Lowering his head and stuffing his hands into his pockets, he paced back and forth briefly. Neither option was a good one. If he told her the truth, she would be apprehensive each morning, but yet, figuring it out on her own would probably terrify her. No, not terrify. It would scare her, but she would insist he keep away from the station.

"I’m going to have to tell her, no matter how much I don’t want to," He conceded finally, stopping his restless motion. He looked at Paul as another thought crossed his mind, "I need your professional opinion, Paul and don’t pull any punches with me. In your expert opinion, if this man is who we think he is, is Monica in any physical danger of him?"

Paul shook his head as he sank down onto the sofa, his gaze meeting Andrew’s steadily, "Buddy, I don’t think I can begin to say what a man who murders for sport is capable of. For some reason, he has singled her out of probably hundreds of radio talk shows in the area and I cannot begin to understand why. It could be anything from just something random to some sick fantasy that revolves around her voice. Believe me, I don’t like it anymore than you do."

"Paul," Andrew’s voice was low and threatening, "If he harms a hair on her head, I will put a bullet through his and not think twice about it."

Paul had tried to clear his throat in warning when the kitchen door swung open, but Andrew had been too angry to notice and now the agent watched as Monica’s eyes widened at having heard her husband’s words.

"You think he wants to hurt ME?"

Andrew spun around at the distress in her voice and was quick to go to her and wrap his arms around her, "Of course not, angel, but I suppose the possibility is always there. But he won’t. I’ll make sure of it."

Somehow she managed to keep herself from trembling. She had been worried about Andrew, Paul and Alex all this time and she still was. She had never expected to hear Andrew’s concern for her, "But why do you even think that?"

Unsure if Paul and Andrew had planned to tell her, Alex made the decision that Monica needed to know. "Honey, it might not mean anything at all, and it could only be coincidence, but the killings appear to moving in the direction of the east side of the city…close to the station."

Andrew could tell his wife was trying to take it all in and he moved his hand to her cheek and looked into her eyes, "I don’t want you worrying, baby."

Her heart was pounding in her chest as her thoughts raced. It wasn’t just her anymore that might be in danger, but the baby as well. The thought was suddenly overwhelming and she clutched at Andrew’s arms to steady herself, barely realizing when he led her to the sofa to sit down.

"Monica, baby…you need to calm down," He told her softly, but was completely surprised when she turned rational dark eyes to him.

"I don’t want you near the station, Andrew. Not anywhere near it. Promise me!"

"Monica," Paul laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, "This is only geography. We don’t even know for certain if he is intentionally moving that way, but we’re going to take every precaution. I’m going to see that the radio station has twenty four hour surveillance starting tonight. That entire area is going to be crawling with undercover agents until we find out where he is next."

Monica swallowed hard and asked the question she most dreaded as she looked into her husband’s eyes, "Will you be one of them?"

Andrew wanted to tell her no, to deny with everything in him that he would be in the area, but he wasn’t about to lie. The bottom line was that there was nowhere else he could stand to be, "Yes, angel. I will be one of them. I have to be there to make sure you’re safe."

She looked down at their joined hands, watching as he ran his thumbs tenderly over her own. Then she closed her eyes and allowed acceptance to wash over her. She had no choice. She would never change him in his need to protect her and if anything happened to her he would never forgive himself for not being there. She knew that all too well.

"Okay," Monica breathed, forcing her heart to calm as she looked back up at the three concerned faces that hovered above her, "Whatever you think is best."

If Andrew was surprised by her answer he didn’t let it show. Alex reached out and patted Monica’s shoulder, then cast warning glances at the two men.

"C’mon, Monica. That’s enough shop talk. Let’s finish up with breakfast. I’m starving. Communion bread may feed the soul, but my stomach is still empty."

The quip brought a tiny grin to Monica’s face and she let Andrew pull her up as he stood. "Leave it to Alex to put things into perspective."

*****

An unspoken rule prevailed for the rest of the day. There was to be no talk, not even a whisper abut work. In fact, the word ‘tomorrow’ was not to even be uttered. Alex and Paul took Matthew home just after breakfast, and Monica convinced Andrew to head to the local home improvement store for paint. Home Depot on the weekends was a zoo, but he was actually just happy to have her willing to go out in public. However, as soon as they entered the store he noticed that she barely said a word.

He couldn’t do anything to help her. He knew that pushing would only upset her but inside he was furious. He wanted his wife back and it seemed that the only way to do that was to capture the bastard who was terrorizing the whole city. As soon as they got back in the car, with paint and rollers and pans weighing down the trunk, Monica seemed to begin to perk up. Andrew should have been happy, but instead it just made him even angrier, a feeling he was very careful to keep hidden. Monica deserved a restful afternoon and he was going to give it to her.

"You picked out a perfect color," he said, as he started unloading the car.

"Well, I thought pink would be too much, but I think this is pale enough that it will be all right," she said thoughtfully. "Especially if you put that white paneling on the bottom half."

He let out a little laugh. "Never fear, it will be my first order of business next weekend. I’ll order it this week."

She smiled but her eyes opened wide. "I wasn’t being bossy… really!"

"Of course you weren’t, baby," he said as he lifted her hand to his lips. "You don’t need to be bossy to get what you want out of me!"

She blushed for a moment but then winked as she stepped inside the house. "You’re right… I don’t," she said, and winked over her shoulder at him before making a little kissing motion and then heading down the hall.

He just shook his head and carried the paint cans up to the nursery. She might be uncomfortable in public but at least she was acting like herself again at home. That would have to do.

Naturally Monica wanted to get right to work on the painting and Andrew was happy to let her, with the one condition that she not do any of the high parts. She gave him a brief pout at the ban on ladders he was imposing but then just rolled her eyes and agreed. By the time dinner rolled around they had finished two coats on the upper half of the walls and Monica had even repainted all of the trim a nice clean white.

She insisted on starting dinner while he cleaned up the brushes and rollers and the implication was clear. She wasn’t going to let him coddle her for more than the week. Considering that he had already won the battle of the ladder he was willing to let it go, but he did join her in the kitchen to help cut up fresh vegetables.

Their actions seemed so normal and right that by the time the clock ticked over to ten it was hard to believe that the new week was actually something they were both dreading. Pretending that it didn’t exist had worked well for the most part, and when Andrew slipped into bed beside his wife she was all but glowing.

"Today was a good day," she stated definitively.

Smiling down at her he agreed. "Very good." He shut off the light and then suddenly wondered what she was expecting.

She was curled up on her side, looking at him, and he leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. This was insane. He had to stop second guessing her... and just have the guts to ask. His hand came up to stroke gently down her cheek and then he let it drift back into her hair.

"Monica…" he shook his head. "I… This sounds stupid I know…"

"What?" she asked, her eyes searching his face.

"It’s been a busy day… and I know you have to get up in the morning… I thought… I don’t want you to think I don’t want to… I always want to…" he clenched his eyes shut, realizing how Neanderthal-like that sounded.

"Would you just hold me and talk to me while I fall asleep?" she asked quietly, realizing what he was getting at.

A look of relief passed over his face. "Of course! Of course I will, angel." He pulled her close and kissed her temple. "I’m sorry I’m still a little nervous about… things…" he said softly. "I just might need you to let me know what you want for a little while…"

She smiled into the darkness as she wrapped her arm around his chest. "I think you already know just what I want… and what I need," she murmured, "but I promise that from now on I’ll let you know if something isn’t right."

He gave her a squeeze and gently ran his hand along her back. "That’s all I ask, baby. All I want is to make you happy, Monica. It’s the one thing that means the most to me."

Tilting her head slightly, she placed a kiss above his heart. "Well you should be pleased then, because you’re doing a wonderful job."

*****

Though the next two days passed uneventfully, no one would have known it by watching Monica. The little angel was a bundle of nerves though she was desperately trying to hide that she was in any way uncomfortable. Each morning as she walked down the short path to the entrance to the radio station, she would feel the little hairs on the back of her neck rise and by the time she reached the door, her heart was pounding audibly. Only once inside, did she briefly calm and then the cycle repeated itself with each new call, glancing at Stacey nervously each time in the event it was John.

Monday and Tuesday she met Andrew, Alex and Paul for lunch and though Andrew was relieved to see her eat, he was still feeling angry at the silence that would fall over her if they were seated near anyone else she didn’t know. Monica always insisted she meet them there, never allowing Andrew to pick her up and drop her back off at the station.

But by Wednesday, she was starting to relax ever so slightly, hoping that maybe the killing spree was over. The show was going well and she glanced over as Stacey held up the dry erase board with the name "Karen" written on the board, closing followed by "She’s crying."

Monica frowned and exchanged a glance with Ray. He nodded towards her, a clear indication that she was to proceed, "Hello Karen."

"Hi," The female voice was filled with tears and the angel felt her heart clench in sympathy.

"What can we help you with?" Monica’s voice was calming and soothing, hoping to coax out of the young woman why she was so upset.

"I…I’m not even sure of why I called…I guess…I just don’t understand why God allows some things to happen. I’ve always trusted Him…always…but this time…Saturday night…I was raped…"

Monica froze briefly as she heard Karen dissolve into quiet sobs, understanding all too well what the woman was feeling and now she was being looked to for help, "Karen, I’m so sorry. Sometimes it is difficult if not impossible to see God’s plan when something like this happens, but we have to still trust Him, no matter what."

"No one understands, Monica!" Karen burst out, her voice catching in a sob, "No one understands that it is almost impossible to do that right now!"

She clutched her microphone tightly and forced herself to steady her voice, "I do understand, Karen. Just over a year ago, I was raped at knifepoint."

A pin could have dropped at the station in the moments after her statement and it would have been deafening, but Monica managed not to think about it as she continued softly. "So yes, I do understand and I asked myself most of the same questions that you are asking yourself right now. How could God have allowed this to happen? What did you do to deserve it? How can you ever trust Him again? Am I getting close?"

"Yes," Karen’s voice was barely a whisper, "It feels like the hurt is never going to go away."

"I know, and you feel like the pain is so terrible you don’t see how you can get through the next hour, yet alone the rest of your life," Monica replied, not surprised to feel Ray’s hands resting on her shoulders as he moved up behind her. "But what you’ll find, Karen, is that God has made you strong enough to overcome the free will of one man, and my guess is He will place some angels in your path to help you. He did that for me…one of those angels being the man I’m now married to."

"But... but couldn’t He have stopped it?"

"Yes. He could have, but whatever comes of this terrible tragedy, is going to help God fulfill His purpose for your life. You can’t see it now, Karen and maybe you won’t in your lifetime, but one day, you will have the answers you are seeking. Until then, you have to trust Him and know that if God brought you to this, He will see you through it as well."

The next hour flew by as the lines lit up with callers who had either been hurt in this way, or from husbands or friends who simply didn’t know how to help someone they loved who had been raped. Monica found she was able to tackle the victims, but the friends, boyfriends and spouses were more difficult. She had been so caught up in her own emotions during that terrible time, that at times it was hard for her to see everything Andrew had been doing for her. She only knew that he had been helping her all along.

The angel breathed in a sigh of relief when it was finally time for a commercial break and she leaned back in her chair to rein in control of her emotions. The hour had been hard, but also satisfying. She had moved past her own grief and was now able to help others. It felt good. For some reason, today seemed to have answered the final "Why?" about what had happened to her.

"Monica, I had no idea," Ray stated softly as he looked over at her. He was back in his own chair and was looking at her with admiration.

"I’m afraid I’m not much good with the guys who all want to help though, Ray. Andrew would have been a better one for them to ask if that were possible."

"Well, maybe we should ask him."

Monica nearly laughed, but then noticed the look on Ray’s face and that he was looking over her shoulder. Turning around, she saw her husband standing in the booth beside of Stacy and the expression of love on his face nearly undid her. She forgot all about her not wanting him at the station as she all but ran out of the sound booth and into the control room to fling her arms around him.

"You’ve heard the show so far?" She whispered breathlessly as he held her tightly.

"Every word, baby."

"See? This is why I love you so much," Monica smiled tearfully as she pulled away enough to look into his eyes.

"I’m so proud of you, Monica," He managed to say, though his words didn’t even begin to describe the depth of emotion he was feeling. He had been listening to her show with a tiny headset, undercover and only a block away. He’d had a lump in his throat the entire time.

"Care to help take a few calls, Andrew?" Ray grinned, watching the couple, "Stacey has six on hold now and the break is nearly over."

"I’d love to, Ray, but I can’t. Not with a killer still out there, but I would like to stay for the rest of the show if that is all right."

Monica smiled, wishing he could help, but also relieved that he was choosing not to let John know he was in the station and the last hour flew by with him in the booth next to her holding her hand. Only one call was left to answer to bring up to the noon hour and she glanced over at Stacey. Her heart fell to the floor at what the board said and she felt Andrew’s hand tighten around hers as he saw it as well.

"Hello John," She struggled to keep the same control in her voice that had been present over the last two hours.

"Guess I misjudged you ever so slightly, Monica," John began, the dark quality of his voice quite present over the line, "You do know what it is to suffer…at least for yourself. What I want to know is if you would still trust in that purpose God has for your life if your husband was being lowered into the ground."

Andrew watched the tears she was blinking back and he took her hand into both of his, trying to reassure her, despite the growing fury in his heart. He could see the anger in Ray’s eyes as well and how much the man wanted to intervene, but Andrew shook his head in warning. He hated this, but if Monica could only keep him on the line long enough to be traced and for agents to get there, then this whole nightmare could be over for them all.

Monica swallowed her fear and forced herself to speak, "John, there is a purpose and a season for everything and God’s plan is perfect. It is up to every individual to trust in the plan He holds for their life."

"So easy to say, isn’t it, Monica?" He taunted and it was all Andrew could do to not grab the mic, "I still think your tune would change if you were left a widow and your baby fatherless. Then it would be you asking if God could have prevented that tragedy."

Monica could barely see through the tears that blinded her, but she managed to hold her own, "How about I ask you a question, John? Why have you chosen to call me? What is it that you think I can tell you or are you just looking for absolution for the things you have done? If that is what you are looking for, I can’t help you. Only God can."

He ignored her comments and continued, his voice holding anger, "You never could help me, Monica, but believe me, when it is all said and done, you’ll understand me!"

Her hand trembled as she watched the light fade and knew that he was gone and then Andrew’s arms were around her and she could feel the anger that had built up in him, "I’m sorry. It wasn’t long enough. I tried…"

"You did just fine, baby," He whispered as Ray wrapped up the show. Hearing his cell phone ringing, he picked it up, "Paul? Anything?"

"No," His voice came over the line and it was seething with anger, "Monica okay?"

Andrew reached up and swiped a tear from her cheek as he replied, "She’ll be fine."

"Listen, buddy. Get her out of there and yourself as well, but not directly together. Everytime this son of a bitch has called her, someone has died and I want you two out of there safely! You got that?"

"I’m going to make sure she gets home safely, Paul, and then I’ll be back. Don’t worry, we’ll be careful." Hanging up, he took Monica’s hands into his own, "I’m going to follow you home, angel. When you walk out, I’ll be not far behind you. Get in the car and go, all right?"

She managed a nod as she squeezed his hands tightly, "Be careful."

"I will," He replied, moving to kiss her gently before he rose and pulled her to her feet. He waited patiently as she explained things to Ray and made him promise not to leave for awhile and Andrew assured him that an agent would be in to see him out as a precaution. Then he was helping his wife into her coat and watching as she walked tentatively out the door.

Andrew followed her a moment later, his eyes never leaving her as she walked as quickly as she could down the path and towards the parking lot. He was just starting to feel relief when he heard a loud "POP" and then he was running, "Monica! Get down!"

She had all but frozen and he had no choice but to gently tackle her into the grass beside the path, covering her with his body, as his eyes darted around. At the moment they had fallen to the ground, there was sound of another shot and as they had ducked, the bullet shattered the passenger’s window of the caddy.

Chapter 15

Andrew had his weapon drawn almost before he knew it. He had been so reluctant to participate in any firearms training, but now he knew that if the sniper came within range he would shoot him through the heart without thinking twice. He was still covering Monica, shielding her between himself and the car and he slowly pulled her away enough to open the car door. She wasn’t even crying, but her face had lost all color and her eyes were darting around in absolute terror as he shoved her inside the car.

"Stay down!" he ordered, the tone one she had never heard before.

"Please! Andrew, please get in the car!" she cried out, but he was already running in the direction of the shots, ducking behind other cars as he went.

It suddenly felt as if he was in the middle of one of those action pictures that Paul preferred and Monica disliked. There was a hill at the far end of the parking lot and he quickly set a course for it, scanning the top for any sign of a man and a gun. The adrenaline coursing through his system made every nerve, every sense, razor sharp. The grass was still wet from rain the night before and his feet slipped as he ran up the hill, straining to see if anyone was there. Then he was over the top and sliding down an embankment and into another parking lot. There were people everywhere, and cars screeched to a halt as they saw a man with a gun bolting to his feet and looking around with a look of fury and frustration on his face.

"Andrew!" his name echoed through the air and he spun around as he saw Paul racing over the top of the hill after him.

He quickly holstered his gun and tried to relax his face, motioning the frightened motorists to proceed.

"He was here, Paul! He was fucking here! That fucking bastard was right here waiting to take a shot at her!" He barely kept himself from shouting, the words instead spewing forth in a torrent of tightly controlled rage.

"I know, buddy… I know… Calm down. You’ve got to calm down."

"Calm down? Are you fucking kidding me, Paul? I’m not going to calm down until that murdering asshole is dead or in jail and right now I would prefer dead!"

"I know that! Don’t you think I know that?"

"Then tell me that someone caught him! Tell me that!"

"One of our guys spotted him just before the shots were fired," Paul told him, grimly.

"Then where is he? Who has him?" Andrew started looking around the grocery store parking lot for one of the familiar FBI cars.

"We didn’t get him, Andrew. Robbins saw him and radioed over for Marshall to sweep around behind, but with all the traffic in and out of this lot…"

"He fucking did it again. He got away. Right from under our damn noses." Andrew’s voice wasn’t even angry anymore, but instead filled with disgust.

"Andrew…"

"I have to get back to my wife. I’ll see you back at the office in a few hours," he said. It was the closest Andrew had ever gotten to being really mad at Paul, but inside he knew it wasn’t really him that he was mad at. It was the whole situation.

When he got back to the Caddy, Ray was crouched by the open front door and Monica was sitting on the edge of the seat, her tears still just pooling in her eyes, hands clenched together over her stomach. Ray saw the angel approaching and stood up quickly.

"Anything?"

Andrew shook his head, not even able to form the words. Ray’s face fell and he took a step away from the car and let Andrew take his place in front of Monica.

"Baby, are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?" He was looking her over and he took her hands into his, startled when she flinched. He turned them over and saw her skinned palms, grass stains coloring them. He looked up at her guiltily. "I’m sorry, angel… I didn’t…"

"They’re fine," she was amazed that after what had just happened he would be upset at a little scratch. The tears she had been fighting suddenly choked her and she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder. "I was so scared… I thought you were gone… I thought…" Her words trailed off. She didn’t even dare breathe what she had for one horrible instant believed.

"No, sweetheart… I’m fine."

"Where is he? Are they taking him to the jail?"

She was staring into his face imploring him to tell her what she wanted to hear and he let his head drop as he studied her hands. "We didn’t get him, angel," he said softly.

Sucking in a sharp breath she reeled back a bit, then realized how upset Andrew already was about it and laid a soft hand against his cheek. "As long as you’re safe, I don’t even care," she whispered.

"But I do." His eyes were hard and determined. Standing up he turned to face Ray who had been looking on, incredibly touched by the way the couple before him interacted. "Thank you for staying with her," he said gratefully.

"You know I couldn’t do otherwise," Ray replied.

"You’re heading home now?"

"Picking my wife up at her Monday bridge game."

"Well take care of yourself," Andrew said wearily.

Ray met his gaze and held it for a long moment. "You do the same. Take care of each other."

Turning his attention back to his wife, Andrew touched her cheek gently and briefly, "Come on, baby. Let’s get you home."

On the drive home, he clenched the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles were white and he didn’t fail to notice the silence that had come over his wife. This morning had drained her, but he knew she would never be able to nap once he got her home. She was too upset and was managing to hold herself together by a thread and he had no idea how he was going to be able to leave her to go back to work.

Alex made that decision easier for him. Their friend’s car was already in the driveway when they pulled in and Andrew said a silent prayer of thanks for having the Gatlins in their lives. She was opening Monica’s door before he had even turned off the car.

"Paul called me. Honey, are you all right?" She immediately pulled the angel into her arms as soon as Monica got out of the car.

"Fine." Monica replied, but the tension in her voice was apparent.

Looking over at Andrew, Alex couldn’t miss the relief that was on his face over the fact that she was here, "Paul told me to tell you that if you needed some time, he could handle things," She offered, wrapping her arm around Monica’s shoulders as they walked up to the porch.

"I have to go back in, Alex. I need to find this fucking son of a bitch," The words were out before he could reconsider them but his wife didn’t even flinch. That in itself was almost alarming.

His worry deepened when Monica muttered something about going to lie down before she walked slowly up the stairs to their bedroom. His eyes followed her until she had turned the corner and then he left out a frustrated sigh, "Are you able to stay, Alex? I hate to leave her alone right now…"

"Say no more, Andrew. That is what I’m here for. I told them I was working from home the rest of the day and this is my second home, so close enough. Go make sure she is all right while I whip her up something for lunch."

Andrew didn’t need to be told twice as took the stairs two at a time and walked into their bedroom, immediately upset over the listless look in her dark eyes. She was lying down on their bed, small hands nestled beneath her head as she laid facing the door. Sitting down next to her, Andrew ran a hand through her hair tenderly, "Baby…"

"You know he wasn’t trying to kill me," Monica whispered brokenly.

"Angel, how can you say that? He was shooting at you-."

"He wouldn’t have missed," She replied, finally looking up into his eyes and the depth of her love for him washed over her almost painfully, "He was trying to find out if you were there and…now he knows you were. He’ll call tomorrow and confirm it, but I already know."

Andrew’s jaw tightened. John was starting to get to her mind and it made him angry as hell. Reaching for her, he pulled her onto his lap and held her tightly, "We don’t know that for certain, baby. Monica, I’m just so damn thankful you are all right."

"He’s not after me…not to kill me," She whispered, resting her head against his heartbeat, "I think he’s lost someone he loves…he wants to prove to me how that feels," She was frightened beyond tears. Part of her longed to lay in his arms and sob uncontrollably, but Andrew didn’t need that from her, "He said when it was over I would understand, but…I don’t want to understand…I don’t want to…"

"Shh," He held her tightly and kissed the top of her head. "He’s getting to you, angel, that’s all this is. I promise you we are going to catch him. He’s getting careless and he’s going to slip up and when he does, Paul and I are going to be right there. I love you so much, Monica, and I’m not going anywhere, nor am I going to let him hurt you."

He held her as she fell silent and after a few minutes just when he thought she had fallen to sleep, she spoke once more, "You have to get back. Please be careful."

Pulling away, Andrew lifted her chin with his fingers, seeing the deep sorrow in her eyes, "I don’t have to go anywhere if you need me, baby."

"I always need you. Remember that when you walk out the door."

Tears stung his eyes and he hugged her fiercely to himself, "I will."

*****

He barely remembered the drive back to the Bureau. His mind was too filled with the look in Monica’s eyes as he left. He had taken one final look at the house as he’d pulled out of the driveway and had seen her standing at the window, one hand pressed against her mouth. She’d been half hidden by the curtains and probably hadn’t even known he’d seen her. But he had.

Shrugging out of his jacket, Andrew strode into Paul’s office. The jacket was quickly thrown over the back of a chair and he was standing in front of the desk, hands flat against it’s cold, solid surface.

"So I suppose we still have nothing?" the bitterness in his voice was hard to miss.

Paul raised one eyebrow and turned his computer monitor towards the angel. "Not exactly."

"What?" Andrew’s demeanor changed in a heartbeat. "We’ve got something?"

"Well, we’ve finally managed to cut our list of suspects from the damn rifle list. There were forty-seven Johns. We ruled out thirty the first day. The rest were a little harder to track. Eight were out of the city. Now that they’re back we’ve verified that they were gone for at least one of the shootings. That left nine. Two of them have records but their parole officers and employers can testify to their whereabouts during the shootings. So this list of seven is what we have left." He pointed to the screen. "Agents or police officers have been out to their last known addresses at least three times and haven’t been able to find them. We’ve even called their employers. For one the number had been changed, two others are unemployed and the other four list themselves as self-employed. One of the self-employed’s is a former police officer so I’m inclined to knock him off the list along with the sixty year old retired guy."

Andrew’s eyes scanned the list. All of the men were between twenty-five and sixty. Even cutting out the oldest and youngest on the law of averages, and the former officer, that still left five men who couldn’t be found.

"What do we know about them?" he asked.

"Whatever you want to know," Paul said dryly. "Current and past professions, relatives, hell, we know where they have bank accounts and credit cards."

"Family. What about family? Especially deaths," Andrew said grimly as he remembered what Monica had said.

"Yeah, we can get that pretty easily."

"Let’s get it," Andrew said as he rubbed his hand over his face.

Paul leaned back from the desk and stared up at his friend and partner. "Andrew, sit down before you fall down," he ordered gently.

The angel let out an aggravated sigh but he collapsed into a chair nonetheless.

"How is Monica? Did Alex get there before you left?"

"Yeah. She was there before we even got there. She must have driven like a madwoman."

"You mean, her normal speed," Paul commented with a chuckle, hoping to break the mood.

"Yeah, something like that," Andrew agreed, the brief glimpse of a smile not coming close to reaching his eyes.

"And Monica?"

"Upset. Frightened. Resigned. She’s practically convinced herself that this bastard is going to kill me right in front of her. Today just proved her point."

Paul shook his head. "That’s not gonna happen. Not while I’m around."

"I know that, but convincing her is another matter."

They fell silent but the noise from the rest of the floor continued to filter in, and sounds of the traffic outside came in a muffled cacophony through the window. When Andrew finally spoke again his voice was quiet and slightly defeated sounding.

"I just want to catch him, Paul. I want this over with. Maybe I was an idiot to think that this job was right for me. Maybe I was only fooling myself when I thought that it wouldn’t affect Monica. But it has, and it will. I want to catch this asshole and I want to go back to my wife. Maybe there’s an opening an a damn teddy bear factory after all."

"Hey… hey now," Paul’s eyebrows rose in surprise and dismay. "I hope I’m not hearing you right."

"No, I’m pretty sure you are," Andrew replied.

"Well then maybe I need to remind you that this fucking maniac didn’t target you to start with. In fact, Monica is the one he’s fixated on. Thank God you’re an agent and you’ve been able to use that to your advantage to protect her!"

Andrew pressed his lips together and said nothing.

"You’re a damn good agent, and I don’t believe for one second that God would have led you into a profession you weren’t supposed to be in. You’re helping people here, Andrew. Just the way you always have. Frankly, I don’t think you could stand not doing that."

The angel let out a long, tired breath. Paul was probably right. The problem was that at the moment all he wanted to do was whisk Monica away to somewhere safe. He didn’t care who was after them, or why, but he was sick and tired of being a walking target.

*****

"Knock, knock," Alex forced a smile as she walked into the bedroom with a plate in her hand, containing a sandwich and cole slaw. Her eyes betrayed her concern when she saw Monica standing at the window, eyes glassy with tears, still noticibly pale. The angel didn’t even turn around when Alex entered the room, "C’mon, honey, you need to eat."

There was still no response and Alex set the plate down on the nightstand and approached her friend, laying gentle hands on her shoulders, "Monica?"

"He’s not coming home, Alex," The words were whispered and laced with more fear then Alex had ever heard coming from her.

"Now you can knock that off right now," She scolded, forcing Monica to turn around to face her, "Of course he is coming home to you! Nothing would keep him away!"

But she was already shaking her head tearfully, "John will. He knows who he is now and he is determined that I understand whatever losses he has had and he won’t stop until I do…"

"Don’t you let this bastard get to you like this, Monica. After everything you’ve been through, you never once gave up and I don’t like the fact that I’m hearing this shit from you now."

"Andrew and I have never been human before, Alex!" The tears were pooling in her eyes as her voice rose an octave, "Ever since God gave us the gift of being able to be together, it has felt like a miracle…like something we didn’t really deserve but that he blessed us with. I still wake up some mornings, not even wanting to open my eyes because I’m afraid that this incredible gift wasn’t meant to last forever. Now with being human it feels even more so only in a different way," She wiped at her eyes blindly as Alex led her over to the bed, afraid if the angel didn’t sit down she would collapse beneath the grief she was feeling, "For centuries I’ve been helping people, and a mass majority of them were coping with a loss or a tragedy and I’ve had to talk to them about God’s plan. I’m part of that majority now, Alex, and so is Andrew. I’d be fooling myself if I thought that just because we were angels we’d some fairy tale human life. If that were the case, why make us humans at all?"

"So you can raise your child, sweetie," Alex stated softly as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"That’s what I thought at first too, but not anymore…why would this man focus on me? And because he has, Andrew is going to be his next victim! That’s who he wants! He practically said it today and he never calls me without killing someone that day!"

"Monica, you have got to calm down. You’re already convinced John is going to win. Put a little faith in Andew here, okay? Paul has told me he’s a damn good agent-."

"The ones that were killed, Alex…were they any less good at their jobs?" Seeing the hesitant look on her friend’s face, she continued, "No. Of course they weren’t…the problem is that John is a damn good shot! No one can find him, but he keeps killing and now he has targeted Andrew!"

As Monica crumbled completely, the phone rang and Alex was quick to pick it up, "Hello?"

"Alex?" Andrew’s voice was urgent and more than slightly concerned and it made her wonder if there some still some trace of the angel’s connection left, "How’s Monica?"

"Hang on a second, Andrew and I’ll let her answer that." Lowering the phone, she watched in near disbelief as Monica seemed to completely pull herself together. The angel was blinking back tears and wiping at her eyes, forcing a veil over her emotions, "Honey, be honest with him," She whispered frantically.

"He has a job to do, Alex," Monica replied quietly, swallowing down the sob that was caught in her throat and the agent was further amazed and chagrined when Monica took the phone and forced a smile, "Andrew?"

"I just wanted to check on you, angel," He began, hearing a trace of something in the one word she had spoken to him that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

"I’m fine. Have you found out anything?"

"Some. We’ve narrowed it down and are working on finding out if anyone of the possibilities has lost any family. Paul is also going to want to brief you at the station in the morning as to some ways to handle his call to keep him on the line longer."

"That’s fine," Monica replied steadily, "I’m sure he’ll be calling me," She added, not bothering to tell him that in her heart she believed that if John were to even call that she wouldn’t be there to take it due to losing her husband.

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, "Baby, level with me here. I’m getting the feeling that-."

She managed a tiny laugh, "Andrew, you worry too much. Alex is keeping me company until you get home, so other than missing you, I’m fine."

Three "fines" in under a minute and Andrew was not convinced. He knew her too well and she was anything but "fine", "Do you know how much I love you?" He asked softly.

She felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes, "Yes and I love you too," She knew she needed to end this before she lost it completely, yet she was reluctant to let him go. Talking to him meant no one was firing at him, that he was still alive and with her, but John was still out there, waiting.

"I’ll be home as soon as I can, baby."

"Godspeed, Andrew," She was barely able to get the words out, but somehow they came through unfaltering.

Alex was nearly furious and had half a mind to grab the phone and tell Andrew the truth. That his wife didn’t think he’d be making it home tonight. Yet a small part of her understood because she was married to an agent as well and she could only imagine how she would feel knowing some lunatic had singled out Paul. She watched as Monica hung up the phone and then reached to hand it back to her.

The agent’s voice was controlled but threaded through with something akin to anger when she finally spoke. "What the hell was that? You just lied to him!"

"I’m human now," Monica replied flatly. "I can do that now."

"You may be human, but you’re still Monica, and Monica doesn’t lie," Alex insisted, arms crossed, waiting for an explanation.

"I didn’t want to be crying the last time I talked to him!"

"That is such total bullshit! Just stop it! He is not going to die! You are just getting yourself all worked up and it isn’t good for you and it damn sure isn’t good for the baby!"

Monica had collapsed onto the bed, but now she stood up, eyes blazing. "You don’t know anything about it! Just leave me alone. I want to be alone," she said as she shook her head. "Take Matthew and go back to your house. Go back to wait for Paul to come home." Her tone held almost a hint of bitterness and Alex was shocked speechless. "Go! Please, just go!" Monica repeated, nearly shouting.

Alex met the angel, glare for glare. "I’ll leave you alone, but I’m not leaving this house. "I am going to be here when Andrew walks through that door, and maybe, if you’re really lucky, I won’t say ‘I told you so’."

She turned and stalked out of the room, leaving Monica to stare after her, listening as her footsteps pounded down the stairs. Slowly the angel closed the door. She meant to crawl onto the bed, but instead fell to her knees beside it. She was praying with all of her heart that she was wrong."

Downstairs in the kitchen, Alex had already picked up the phone and dialed Paul’s cell phone.

"Gatlin," he answered, as usual.

"It’s me."

"Alex, what’s wrong?"

"Is Andrew with you?"

Now Paul knew for certain that something was wrong. "No. He just went back to his desk five minutes ago. Why?"

"Paul, thing’s are fucking falling apart here."

"What?" Paul was astonished and upset.

"Monica practically just threw me out. She’s insisting that he’s going to die today and nothing I say will convince her otherwise."

Paul breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that’ll sort itself out in a minute. Andrew said he was going to call her to check in."

"He just did!"

His face resumed its shocked expression. "What? What did she say to him? Didn’t he convince her otherwise?"

"She flat out lied to him and told him everything was fine. You should have seen her. It was quite a performance." She could hear Paul’s tired breath through the phone and she longed to be near him to rub the spot in his neck that always got tight when he was frustrated.

"Great," he said. "That’s fucking great. I’ve got Andrew here ready to resign, and now Monica’s turning Sybil on us."

"I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have called. I mean, it’s not my right to pass this kind of thing onto Andrew, but gossiping with you is supposed to be perfectly within my rights!"

"No, no, no. You were right to call," he told her quickly.

She sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs, leaning her elbows against the table. "I just don’t know what to do," she whispered. "I’ve never seen her like this. She’s almost scaring me… and I’m worried for her and for the baby."

"Shhhh…. We don’t need you getting all upset too."

"I know… it’s just hard to see her…"

"Look. We have a few more things to wrap up, but we should both be heading home before five. Do you think she can wait that long?"

Alex closed her eyes as she thought about the last words Monica had spoken to her. "Yeah. I think so," she said after a moment.

"All right then. I’ll call you before we leave."

"Paul?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I love you."

He smiled, but the smile was marred by a wisp of sadness. "I love you too, baby."

"Please don’t let Andrew out of your sight. Don’t leave the office until you come home."

"I’ll stick to him like glue."

"And if anything… anything happens… please remember to duck."

A wry smile turned up his lips at Alex’s final attempt at levity. "Will do, ma’am."

"Come home safe, Paul."

His voice turned serious. "Will, do, ma’am"

Chapter 16

"Thank God you’re home!" Alex exclaimed as Andrew walked in the door just after five-thirty. She could instantly tell by the look on his face that Paul had filled him in on what she had told him earlier.

"Alex, what on earth happened?" He was quick to hang up his jacket and then turned to face her, "Paul said she tried to throw you out of the house?"

"Well, yeah, but I pissed her off… but only after she pissed me off by not telling you the truth over the phone. She was convinced you weren’t coming home tonight, but she wasn’t about to let you know how terrified she was… is," She sighed and Andrew could plainly tell how upset she was about falling out with Monica, "It’s not really even her fault. This bastard has gotten so far into her head it pisses me off and combine that with some rather heavy duty hormones and it’s no wonder she’s all over the place."

Andrew reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, "Whatever she said, you know she didn’t mean it. She loves you like a sister, Alex."

She gave a little wave of her hand to ward off tears, "I know. I’m just not used to hearing her getting really angry with me."

"I’m sure she’ll be calling you to apologize later," Andrew reassured her, "Paul is waiting for you outside. I think he’d feel better if you and Matthew rode home with him and we can sort the cars out later." He waited until she had gathered Matthew and then he moved to touch the baby’s cheek and leaned down to plant a kiss on Alex’s cheek, "Thank you for being here."

"I’m not sure she needed me today, but she certainly needs you now. Get up there, Andrew and put her mind at ease."

"I will," He opened the door for her and waited until both she and the baby were safely inside the car before giving a wave. He then closed and locked the door and hurried upstairs to their bedroom.

Even if Paul had never told him about his conversation with Alex, it would not have been difficult to put the pieces together simply by looking at his sleeping wife. Monica had obviously cried herself to sleep and was now curled up on her side, his pillow pressed tightly to her chest, her lunch still untouched on the nightstand. He sighed. She couldn’t go on like this, that much he knew, yet he was uncertain of how to remedy the problem. Just looking at her nearly broke his heart.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently ran his finger along her cheek, watching as her eyelashes fluttered and then her dark, red-rimmed eyes opened completely and a cry escaped her lips as she sat up and threw herself into his arms.

"You’re here…" The words were barely choked out before sobs engulfed her small frame.

"Of course I am, angel," Andrew whispered, rocking her gently in his arms.

"I thought… I thought…"

"I know what you thought and baby, you have to stop this. You’re borrowing trouble, Monica."

"How can you say that?" She cried out, pulling away from him, "You heard him today! He threatened you, even if it was an underlying one!"

"So you assume it is the truth just because he spoke it?" Andrew took her face firmly into his hands, his green eyes looking intently into hers, "You’ve lost all faith in me, in us, in God and have placed it all in the hands of a voice on the other end of the phone! Do you not trust me to come home to you each night? Do you think I am so terrible an agent that I stand no chance against this man? Has being human caused you to lose your trust in God to know what is best for us, to keep us safe?" Andrew knew his words were harsh as she sucked in a sharp breath, but he had to get through to her, "Monica, it’s only been a matter of weeks and you have lost sight of the fact that God always has a plan. He didn’t place us here, giving us the most precious of gifts to destroy it!"

Monica’s heart felt as if it was about to beat out of her chest as he continued to force her gaze with his hands on either side of her face. Had she been doing that? The truth hit her fast and furiously then, nearly stealing her breath. Of course she had been. She had allowed her fear to override everything she knew in her heart to be true. She had even lied herself, not to mention turning on Alex because Paul was not being directly threatened.

The last thought nearly caused her to break into fresh sobs. She had allowed fear to change everything she was; a loving and trusting wife, an angel, a friend, a mother and turned her into someone she no longer even recognized, "What have I done?" She whispered, the tears still brimming in her eyes.

"Baby, you let yourself get so afraid that you forgot the truth, that’s all and after today it is understandable, but yet you can’t allow this man to do this to you or to us. You’re letting him win, angel and he’s only one man, against hundreds who are committed to stopping him," Andrew swiped at her tears tenderly, hating how hard this was for her.

"I know, it’s just that…you’ve been in so much danger and now I can’t be there with you. We have to work apart and it’s so hard sometimes, Andrew!"

He drew in a deep breath, "I know it is, Monica and I can only imagine what it must feel like to sit here and wait for me to come home. So that brings me to the next issue. I’m thinking of resigning. I want my wife back, baby."

Monica’s eyes widened and she shook her head furiously, "No, Andrew. I won’t let you do that," Her words surprised him as well as herself, "You love what you do there. I can see it in your eyes and the only downside to it is how I’ve been behaving. Paul relies on you and…. though I haven’t said it, I’m proud of you. You’re helping to keep the city safe and one day, we’re going to have a little girl who depends on that as well. Besides, once she goes to school, on career day, how embarrassing would it be to tell her class her daddy is a teddy bear hugger?" She smiled tearfully and he chuckled, only stopping when her small hand cupped his cheek, "I’m proud of you, husband and I want you to be happy and that means doing my part as well. I’m afraid I’ve been slacking."

"No, angel, you’ve been adjusting," He corrected her, "And it hasn’t been easy."

"No, but for the record, I do trust you. With yourself and with us. I know it hasn’t been showing, but I do and I just have to remind myself to trust God with you as well. He’s done a wonderful job of it so far and I have no reason to doubt that He won’t continue to do so." Feeling calmer than she had since the day had begun, she reached up to kiss him softly, "I’m sorry for not acting like I trust you, because nothing is further from the truth. I think that sometimes I just get scared that everything we’ve been given is going to be taken away."

Andrew smiled softly as he ran a hand lovingly through her hair, "I can understand that, baby. When you were so sick a few months ago, I said the same thing to Paul. But God made marriage a covenant to last forever between a husband and a wife and you and I are no exception."

"You’re right, but I guess you’re not the only one who is so protective," She grinned and he pulled her back into his arms.

"We’re a team, you and I and together we’re going to work out all this human stuff. We’ll be pros before you know it," He held her in silence for a moment, his hand rubbing the remaining tension from her shoulders, "You need to eat, angel."

"I’ve actually been thinking about that," Monica remarked, raising her head to look up at him regretfully, "I think I’d like to get some Chinese takeout and go to the Gatlins. I have some amends to make with a very good friend. Alex didn’t deserve what she got from me today and I don’t want to apologize over the phone."

"That sounds like an excellent plan. Just let me get out of this suit and we can head right over. You call it in… I can’t keep track of your cravings," he joked.

She put on a little pout before replying, "For your information, cravings don’t hit until the eighth month. I just happen to have discovered that Swiss cheese and potato chips make the perfect snack."

He chuckled as he kissed her cheek. "Whatever you say, dear." The light slap on his shoulder told him that maybe having her and Alex at odds wouldn’t be such a bad thing. She was definitely picking up the woman’s habits!

*****

"Are you all right, babe?" Paul finally broke the silence after five minutes of driving in silence. Alex had barely even said hello after getting Matthew into his carseat.

"I’m okay."

"No you’re not. You’re upset about that little fight with Monica."

"It wasn’t a little fight!" she exclaimed as she spun to face him, then immediately spun back to face the window. "And I’m completely over that," she said quickly.

"Oh. Yeah. That’s obvious," Paul retorted with a roll of his eyes.

"She’s never yelled at me before. Has she ever yelled at anyone??"

"Alex, are you forgetting that you’re the one who taught her how to yell at Andrew?"

"But that’s Andrew! He’s her husband. She’s supposed to yell at him."

"Okay, let’s wrap this up right now. You know that she was just upset. Hell, by now she’s probably swimming in guilt for even looking at you crooked."

She let out a huff of a sigh. "You’re right. I know you’re right. I just… I don’t have to like it."

He moved his hand from the wheel and rested it on her knee. "Of course not, sweetheart."

Another sigh and then she asked him the question that of course had been on her mind all afternoon. "Did you get any more leads?"

"Well, we’ve narrowed down the list of suspects. We’ve got police staking out the three that seemed most likely but so far, no sign of them. Don’t worry, Alex. I think this thing is just about to come to the end."

"I hope so. I know that every case is difficult in some way, but this one…"

"Hits closer than any of us would like."

*****

When Paul opened his front door thirty minutes later he was expecting the paperboy. Instead he found himself face to face with Monica, paper bag in hand and earnest expression on her face.

"Monica, what on earth are you doing here? Where’s Andrew?" he took one step outside to look around her.

"He’s just locking up the car. We brought Chinese food. You and Alex haven’t started dinner yet, have you?"

"We were just contemplating pizza, Alex said she wasn’t in the mood to cook."

Monica’s stomach tightened as she thought she knew why Alex wouldn’t be in a good mood. Paul seemed to read her face immediately and put out a hand to pat her arm. "Hey now, get rid of that face. Sheesh, between the two of you!"

"Is she mad? Will she talk to me?"

"Mad?" Paul laughed out loud. "Monica, her expression would be like looking in a mirror for you. She’s back in the kitchen… now get on in there and make both of you feel better."

She smiled at him in relief just as Andrew came up behind her. Leaning forward, she kissed the agent on the cheek. "Thank you, Paul. You always understand."

He chuckled at Andrew’s raised eyebrow. "Well, I try." He stepped back and Monica quickly hurried inside and made a beeline towards the back of the house.

Andrew just shook his head as he watched her go, then settled a hand on Paul’s shoulder. "I think I can figure out what that was about."

"The two of them… heh… like Lucy and Ethel…"

Andrew laughed. "Yes… I think I can see the resemblance."

*****

Monica rapped on the door softly before pushing it open. "Alex?"

The woman turned from the fridge, eyes wide in surprise. "Monica, what are you doing here?"

"I come bearing food… a peace offering?" she said hopefully.

"Monica, you didn’t have to do that…"

"I needed to apologize. I’m so sorry for the way I acted, Alex. I didn’t mean it… not any of it."

"Oh, sweetie, you don’t need to apologize to me. It’s fine!"

Monica cocked one eyebrow and stared at her friend. "Mmm-hmm. I think if I had been anyone else you would have thrown my words right back at me… loudly."

Alex folded her arms and let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh fine. Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"All right, all right… yes."

Monica nodded in acceptance. "And that is why I am even sorrier."

"Oh, come here, ya little goober!" Alex pulled her into a hug. "I know what it’s like to be so scared, Monica. I’m sorry you’re having to go through that right now on top of everything else."

"With you, and Paul and Andrew with me… I should know better than to let myself get so scared."

"Perhaps. But it is perfectly normal to be worried about Andrew, especially now."

"For the record, I have worried about you and Paul every bit as much," Monica replied seriously as she pulled away to look into her friend’s eyes, "I love you both so much, Alex and don’t know what we’d do without you two."

The agent blinked back tears and gave Monica another quick, tight hug, "Oh stop making me cry! I love you too. Now, come on, let’s go eat! I’m starving and if I know you, you didn’t eat lunch."

Paul and Andrew looked up when the kitchen door swung open and the two men exchanged a grin. The girls were smiling once more and chattering happily back and forth as if they didn’t have a care in the world. The guys knew it wasn’t completely the truth, but for tonight, both were willing to pretend.

*****

Though both angels were tired by the time they had gotten home, at Monica’s gentle prodding, they had made love, slowly and tenderly. Now, completely spent, Monica lay in her normal place in Andrew’s arms, her fingers lightly trailing over his chest. Nothing about the case had been discussed at dinner and for that she was grateful, but now with only sleep separating her from a new day, she felt herself growing apprehensive and agitated, even more so than usual.

"What is it, angel?" Andrew asked softly. Though he could no longer feel her heart, he could feel the subtle changes in her body.

Monica was quiet for a long moment, trying to place her finger on exactly what these feelings were, "It’s nothing…well, maybe nothing. I just have a bad feeling is all."

"How so, baby?" His fingers running through her hair.

"I’m not sure exactly. I just feel very unsettled," It wasn’t entirely the truth as she felt that without his fingers creating such a soothing motion, she would allow herself to launch into a full blown panic and she wasn’t even sure of why.

"Probably just a combination of everything that happened today, Monica. Try to relax and try to sleep."

She nodded her head slightly and closed her eyes, "I love you."

Andrew’s eyes widened slightly. The words sounded almost urgent to his ears. Kissing the top of her head, he replied calmly, "I love you too, baby."

Despite the comfort and safety she always felt in his arms, Monica watched each hour pass on the clock, unable to settle her thoughts or the uneasy feeling in her soul enough to actually sleep and it was in the dark hour before the dawn that she finally slipped from her husband’s sleeping embrace. Slipping on her robe, she settled into the rocking chair near the window, watching as the first orange streaks of light lit up the night sky.

This was different from the fear she had been feeling yesterday. This felt more like dread, that uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her feel like they were sitting on the precipice of something. She used to get these feelings occasionally as an angel, especially the day Douglas McArthur had found her for the last time. She had felt exactly the same that day as she did now.

Leaning her head back in the rocker, her eyes moved to her husband and a whispered prayer was out of her lips before she had even thought of what she wanted to say.

"Father, please. Keep him safe."

*****

"I called out sick," Alex announced to Paul when he came down the steps that morning, watching as he raised his eyebrows in question.

She didn’t look ill, he surmised as his eyes went over every checkpoint. She was dressed casually in jeans and a blouse, "Do I dare ask?" Paul grinned, taking the cup of coffee she offered.

"Well, since you are briefing Monica today and all three of you seem to think John will be calling her back today, I’m dropping Matthew at mom’s and coming to the station with you." Sensing an argument, she held up her hand to silence him, "Now before you get your boxers all bunched up, I’m not asking to go into the field. You and Andrew will be there, but I want to sit in on the show to support her in the event he does call."

He relaxed and nodded his head, "I can live with that. It will probably do both she and Andrew good to know you are there. Plus if the shithead does call, you can help keep Monica calm and collected. After yesterday, it is obvious he is out to upset her and that is something I don’t want her showing him if she can help it."

"Easier said than done when your husband is being threatened," She remarked softly, "But I know she’ll give all she has to do what you ask."

Taking a sip of his coffee, he frowned, "Part of me doesn’t even want him to call. But the other part of me wants him to so we can finally get a break on this case so we can all sleep better tonight."

"You should have slept just fine!" Alex grinned slyly, "Or did that hummer I gave you do nothing for you?"

Paul chuckled, always amused by her choice of words, "Actually, I did sleep rather well, thank you very much, until about four ‘o clock this morning. Maybe I should have woken you up."

"Maybe you should have!"

They shared a laugh as Paul’s cell phone rang and he was quick to answer it, "Gatlin."

Alex waited impatiently as she watched the serious expression that crossed her husband’s face over what he was being told. She knew that look well. He was being told something he didn’t like, yet it wasn’t entirely all bad news. Getting up, she crossed to him and laced her fingers through his as he finished up the call.

"We have our break," He informed her before she could ask, "Hansen found out some interesting information on a former agent by the name of John Remus. Seems his wife and daughter were killed in some freak FBI crossfire a few years back."

"So this could be our guy," Alex remarked softly, remembering how Andrew had told them Monica’s feelings about John having lost someone in his life. The pieces seemed to be falling into place.

"Let’s go," Paul finished off his coffee and set the mug in the sink, "We have time to drop off Matthew and then swing by the bureau to pick up the report before picking up Monica and Andrew. With any luck and with God on our side, maybe we can close this case today."

*****

"You know who it is?" Monica asked as Paul handed John Remus’ file to Andrew after a few words of explanation.

"We think we know who it is," Paul amended, glancing at the angel in the rear-view window. "Of the seven remaining guys we hadn’t contacted, he is now one of three who still hasn’t shown up. We had a warrant served on his house this morning and the agents who went already called in. The place looked practically abandoned, but it was also neat as a pin. Looked like a shrine, one of them said."

"So you know who he lost," Monica prodded, trying to get as much information as possible before what she was sure would be another on-air confrontation with the man.

"His wife and daughter, " Alex said quietly. "He was testifying at a racketeering trial downtown. They were on their way to visit him for lunch. They were caught in the crossfire between five other FBI agents and a couple of capitol murder defendants who managed to overpower their guards on the way out of the courthouse."

Monica shook her head sadly and turned to stare out the window. "Now he blames all of them… and God too."

"Yeah, well I can understand his grief, but he’s got a few screws loose if he thinks that making other children fatherless is going to bring back his own child… or his wife," Paul said angrily. He had been so certain that the former agent was the one person they had nothing to worry about. Absolutely convinced that an agent couldn’t possibly turn on his own. Now he felt like a fool.

"If he’s not staying at his house do we have any idea where he is staying?" Andrew asked.

"We’ve got a list of his credit cards and we’re calling them to see if they can tell us what the last purchases have been, but we’re hoping we won’t have to go that far."

Her body tensed and she sucked in a sharp breath. "Because you’re hoping he’ll call me again."

"I’m sorry, Monica, but now that we know who we’re looking for… if he calls you… we can get a wireless trace on him that can narrow the field down to a hundred yards…"

"What if he’s not around the station?"

No one answered. No one wanted to say that he’d be there. He’d be there because he knew that’s where Andrew would be. Monica gave a little nod. She could read the silence easily. It was just what she had thought. Andrew reached across the seat to grab her hand and she squeezed it tightly. She didn’t let go until they came to stop in front of the entrance to the station.

"We’ll be nearby, Monica. You don’t have to worry about anything," Andrew said.

She didn’t reply in words. Instead she leaned towards him and grabbed his face in her hands, kissing him so hard and so long that they were both out of breath when she broke away. "There’s more where that came from if you come back to me alive," she said. The sly, humorous tone of her voice was threaded with worry, but the fact that didn’t keep Andrew’s eyes from opening in near shock as a grin spread across his face.

"Well, you know I’ll always come home for that," he answered. She kissed him once more, lightly, before joining Alex on the steps of the station and leaving Andrew to wonder at the angel who was his wife.

*****

Alex put her hand at Monica’s back as they walked into the building, their footsteps sounding unnaturally loud as everyone else inside stopped what they were doing. By now everyone knew what was going on and just exactly what Monica was going through. The glances were sympathetic and caring, and Monica felt the resolution in her heart growing. She had a job to do and she was going to see it through and then have a celebration dinner with Andrew that would put all of her other cooking to shame.

"You doing okay?" Alex asked as they stopped for Monica to get her morning tea.

"I’m doing better than I thought I would," she replied. "I’m just ready for this to be over. I’ve tried so hard to get through to him… and I wish so much that I could have stopped him… but I guess that this time that’s Andrew’s job."

"Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve obviously said something that touched a nerve with this guy or he wouldn’t have kept calling back."

Monica raised one eyebrow. "Yes… but a part of me will always wonder if that was such a good thing."

"Considering that your conversations with him have given us our best leads… I’d say it was a good thing."

The two women walked into the sound booth and saw that Ray was already there. He stood up as they entered and gave Monica a quick hug.

"You ready to get this show on the road?" he asked, hoping that his smile and easy manner would put her at ease. He knew how anxious she had to be although she was doing an excellent job of hiding it.

"Ready as I’ll ever be," she said, and then sat down in her chair and waited for the intro music to start.

She took a deep breath as she watched Stacey answer the first phone call, but when the whiteboard was spun around and "Michael" was printed on it she pushed thoughts of John as far to the back of her mind as possible and got ready to turn on her mic.

Alex was restless after the first two hours of the show, despite the fact that Monica seemed perfectly calm on the outside as she and Ray tackled the normal barrage of questions and issues. The agent forced herself to settle down and once she did, she found she enjoyed listening to Monica and Ray work together. The two them, along with the small staff were a close knit group and that was something Alex missed working for the agency. These people were more like family and she was pleased that they had so readily accepted Monica into it. Not that she was surprised as the angel’s gentle demeanor and kind heart generally made people want to be close to her.

It wasn’t until eleven thirty that Monica’s entire persona changed and Alex knew John was usually one of the last callers. Monica knew it too as she was now remarkably paler and for the first time this morning, Alex noticed the darkness beneath her friend’s eyes. She was also allowing Ray to handle most of the calls, which he did without question, obviously understanding Monica’s tension.

Fifteen minutes later, Stacey held up the dry erase board, the boldly written word seeming to scream at them. Monica sat up straight in her chair, the tension infecting every part of her body. She wanted this over and she wanted it over today.

"Good morning, John." She managed to keep her voice calm, recalling all of Paul’s notes to her this morning.

"Sorry about the little scare yesterday, Monica," His voice was ominous, but held a note of almost cheeriness that unnerved Alex. She knew that Andrew, Paul and the rest of the agents out on the street were hearing the call as well and she already found herself praying for their safety as well as their wisdom to track him down. "You see, I had to know for certain which man was your husband and if he was nearby. That was him, wasn’t it? The one who threw you to the ground to get you out of harm’s way. Really quite chivalrous if I say so myself. Monica, would you mind telling me his name? I need to address him for a moment as I’m certain he is listening."

Remain calm. Don’t anger him. The words of warning were a mantra in Monica’s head as she clutched her microphone tightly. Alex was scribbling something frantically on the notebook she had brought in with her, but Monica didn’t even glance over. No. This moment was all boiling down to she and John and she was determined to follow her heart, "Andrew. What did you need to tell him, John?"

He chuckled softly into the phone, "I want to advise him not to move from his position in front of my apartment building. One step in any direction and he’ll be bleeding on the sidewalk sooner rather than later."

Monica’s heart leapt to her throat. She had no doubts that he was telling the truth and suddenly she felt completely unprepared to handle this. Her free hand was shaking suddenly and she felt Alex grab it and hold it tightly in her own as she heard herself speaking once more, "Why would you do this, John? What happened to your wife and daughter was an accident…a horrible, terrible accident. But what you are about to do is no accident. It’s cold blooded murder."

Alex sucked in a sharp breath, knowing that the little angel, whose hand was ice cold and shaking within her own had just brought them to the moment of truth. As soon as John answered, they would know if this was the man on the report they had read on the drive over here.

"Someone has been doing her homework," John replied bitterly, "Why am I going to kill your husband? You speak so freely of God’s forgiveness…of your own faith in His wisdom, but you’ll understand soon enough, Monica. When you are holding him in your arms and feeling the life drain out of his body, you will completely understand why I am doing what I’m doing."

Alex watched helplessly as Monica pressed her lips together as a single tear rolled down her pale cheek, but when she spoke, her voice was strong and unwavering, "No, John. You’re wrong. I won’t understand. You’ve killed several people, yet it isn’t lessening your pain. It isn’t bringing your wife and daughter back to you. When does it end? You could kill every agent in the bureau and the pain for you would not stop. Not until you allow God to help you through it."

"You make it sound so simple," He replied angrily, "But you’re wrong and in a few minutes you will know how wrong you are. You’ll understand when in a matter of minutes you go from a wife to a widow and the blame will lie again with the FBI for not catching me before he was taken from you. You’ll blame them too, Monica and then you and I will be exactly alike."

"You’re wrong. There is one huge difference you are forgetting, John. Andrew and I have placed our lives in God’s hands and we trust Him to do what is best and to take care of us. You can take him from me in this life and there would be nothing I could do to stop you. But one day, Andrew and I will be together again. Can you say that for yourself? Can you tell me that one day you will see your wife and daughter again?" The rapid beating of her heart had her head feeling light and it was all she could do to speak clearly through the sob that was lodged in her throat. But her love for Andrew kept her going, no matter how much she wanted to lay her head down on her desk and sob at her own helplessless, "You have to trust God with your life, John. You have to stop this destruction and ask Him for forgiveness and then go and sin no more. Only then will you be cleansed and able to meet your family again in heaven."

The silence on the other end of the line was terrifying and Monica leaned back only slightly in her chair to draw in shaking breathes away from her microphone. She felt another hand cover the one she had removed from the mic and she glanced over to see Ray, his hand enfolding her smaller one. The silence on the line and in the studio was deafening and when she could stand it no longer, she sat back up, "John?"

The soundwaves erupted in gunfire, shattering the pensive silence and Monica’s anguished cry of "Nooo!" compounded with it until all that was left was the sound of her sobs.

Chapter 17

Andrew stood completely still out on the pavement, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he listened to John’s threats on the miniature radio combined with Monica’s voice of conviction. Only he could sense her underlying fear and the man instilling it made him madder than hell. His eyes moved frantically from window to window, searching for him, hating how vulnerable he felt at the moment.

The communication with Paul’s voice and he lifted it closer to his ear to hear everything Paul was saying, "Andrew, don’t fucking move. You got that? We’ve got him and we’re on our way. Just let your wife do what she does best and don’t fucking move!"

"Where, Paul?" He growled in response, "Where is the son of a bitch?"

"Gray stone building to your right, about eight floors up." The angel’s eyes followed the direction, scanning each open window until he saw the muzzle of the rifle and his hand tightened on his own firearm instinctively, "One of our boys spotted him and we’re getting all exits to the building secure before we head up. Just stay calm, buddy. We’ll have you back with Monica in record time."

Andrew refrained against telling Paul just how calm he felt as his steely green eyes remained trained on the window. He listened as Monica spoke of them being together again one day, no matter what happened in the next few minutes and incredible love for her filled his heart. She sounded so strong, but only he knew the tiny edge she got to her voice when she was trying not to cry and he was determined that today would be the last time she cried in fear of this bastard taking him away from her.

He was careful not to look directly at the window, not wanting John to have the convenience of knowing he saw him, but the building as just far enough away that the shooter shouldn’t be able to make out his eyes, even with the scope on the sniper rifle. Monica had reached the end of her speech and Andrew’s heart beat erratically at the dead air that followed. It was then that he saw movement at the window and the flash from the muzzle of the rifle.

Andrew hit the pavement furiously as the bullet shattered the window behind him and he reached for his gun and took quick but careful aim. His current position on the ground had given John no choice but to stand up to center the rifle on him again, but before he could, Andrew fired and watched as the impact of the bullet forced the man back from the window. His first impulse had been to aim for his head, but he didn’t want the man dead, as much as he hated him. Monica had pleaded with John to ask for forgiveness and Andrew wanted him to have a chance to do so.

He didn’t waste another moment in running to the building, sprinting up the stairs to the eighth floor, but by the time he got there, the rest of his team had things well under control. John was bleeding but alive and uttering a string of angry curses and Andrew’s shot had been dead on, hitting the man just below the shoulder. The room was an empty apartment but it was swarming with agents who were intent on bringing the case to a close and John into custody at long last.

"Andrew!" Paul was looking more than slightly satisfied as he spotted his friend and approached him, "Best fucking shot on the team, just like I told you!"

Andrew managed a pensive grin, but shrugged off the praise, "I’m heading to the station," He replied firmly, already halfway out the door.

"I’ve already called Alex. They know you’re safe, but Monica probably won’t believe you till she sees it with her own eyes, so hurry," Paul admonished him, "And other than socially, I don’t want to see you till Monday."

He should have been tired after the run up the stairs, but knowing that Monica needed him energized him and he ran down them almost as fast as he’d run up. The station was just across from the apartment building, with a small park in between. Andrew felt his heart speed up as he saw the building and thought about Monica, listening to the shooting over the phone. He jogged through the park, cutting between mothers with strollers and startling a few dozen pigeons on his way.

When Monica had entered the building there had been silence, and a feeling of foreboding, but when Andrew pushed the door open forcefully and strode in, there was a smattering of applause. Word traveled fast through those halls. He felt his face beginning to color and knew how Monica felt all those times they made her blush.

He was headed straight for the sound booth, but a sharp cry made him spin to his right.

"Andrew!" It was Monica, standing in the break room, Ray and Alex on either side of her. They had been trying to reassure her, but the only thing she had wanted to see was her husband’s face in front of her.

He didn’t waste a moment of time, but pulled her to himself fiercely, burying his face in her sweet smelling hair, and feeling the solid press of her body against his. He didn’t even notice that Ray and Alex silently left the room.

"I tried… I tried so hard… and then…" a sobbing breath before she could continue, "I heard him shooting!" Her arms were like steel bands around him, hugging him as if she never intended to let go.

"Shhh… I’m here. He’s not going to hurt me or anyone else, baby. You were wonderful… you said all the right things."

"But I didn’t! I couldn’t make him stop!"

He took her face in his hands and met her watery gaze. "You said all the right things," he repeated. "John just wasn’t ready to hear them… from anyone."

Monica spotted a scrape on his forehead and touched it lightly. "You’re hurt," she said plaintively.

Reaching up to grab her hand, he pulled it to his lips. "I’m fine. Just a little reminder that cement is harder than flesh," he tried to joke, but she couldn’t smile. Not yet. The echo of gunfire was still too fresh in her mind.

"C’mon, angel," he said softly as he brushed a hand through her hair, "let’s go home. I’m on strict orders not to show my face at the Bureau until Monday."

She slipped her hand into his, still unwilling to relinquish the feel of his touch, and let him lead her from the room and from the building. Once outside, she saw the cars gathered outside the apartment building, along with an ambulance. For an instant she was ashamed of the fact that she hadn’t even wondered about whether or not John was alive or dead. Her very human heart had only had enough room to think about her husband. Now she looked up at him and asked.

"Is he… alive? What happened?"

"He’s alive, Monica. After he took a shot at me I returned fire. Hit him in the shoulder."

"You could have killed him," she said softly.

"I don’t know about that… I’m not that good a shot," he said with another grin, trying to relieve the tension that lay so thick over them. He gave her hand a squeeze. "I didn’t want to kill him," he said seriously. "I heard what you said to him. I want him to be able to repent and ask for forgiveness too."

"Do you think he will?" she asked hopefully.

Judging by the words he had heard streaming from the man’s mouth, he tended to have his doubts, but "I hope so," he replied, and then pulled his wife closer and put his arm around her shoulders as they walked to the car.

It seemed like ages before they were finally pulling into their own garage, and the weariness that had come over Monica was clearly visible. Andrew crossed to her side of the car and opened the door, giving her his hand to help her out. Together they walked inside, looking around the homey kitchen, with the sun streaming in and pictures of all their friends tacked to the bulletin board by the door. They were so blessed, and they could almost feel God’s hand over them, sheltering them and taking back some of the fear and exhaustion. Andrew closed the door and took Monica into his arms.

"I love you so much, baby. I need to show you just how much."

His words were spoken softly, and Monica heard not a demand but a request. Her eyes were brimming with tears and she nodded her head, then let out a little gasp as he swept her into his arms. He carried her upstairs effortlessly, then laid her gently down onto the bed and sat down beside her, his lips quickly meeting hers.

The kiss spoke of so much; of the love and trust they shared, but also the friendship and joy that they knew they had been gifted with, and the desire and need that flowed just below the surface. Monica’s hands were the first to start unfastening buttons, and as she pushed Andrew’s shirt open she let her hands rest against his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat beneath her palm. She reached behind his neck to draw him down for another kiss, and he was happy to oblige, letting his tongue taste her lips before delving inside, tongues dueling with two winners at the end. He tenderly traced one hand down her neck, along her shoulder and then down, cupping her breast through her sweater, kneading it lightly, and feeling the tightening knot at the tip. Monica let out a low moan and an instant later he had pulled the garment over her head and tossed it to the floor along with his shirt.

Her bra was still in place and she arched her back, the message very clear. Andrew reached behind to unfasten it and it joined the small pile of clothing on the floor. He kissed down her jawline to her shoulder and then her hands were in his hair, pushing him lower. The heat of his mouth around a nipple made her gasp and press him closer.

"Please… Andrew… I need you so badly… I need us…" she pleaded, and he moved his hand to her other breast, driving her higher as he tweaked at the nipple, then soothed it with a brushing motion of his thumb. He needed what she was asking for just as badly, and for once there was no teasing involved.

He left her breast just long enough to slip off the rest of his clothes and then returned, his hands working to unzip her skirt. She lifted her hips and then it was off, and they were left with just flesh on flesh, a perfect warmth that they both craved. He was already hard just from looking at her, but she wrapped her fingers around him and squeezed slightly, dragging a groan from his throat that rumbled through her nipple and straight to her hot core. She used her free hand to twine into his hair again and pull him back to her lips, kissing him tenderly, reverently.

"I could have lost you today," she murmured, the tears springing back to her eyes.

His hands were on her cheeks and he kissed her forehead and then her lips. "But you didn’t. You never will, Monica. I will always be here for you and I will always be yours."

"Show me," she whispered and then felt his fingers parting her and sighed as he pressed two inside and stroked her gently.

He continued to thrust in and then pull back to tickle at her sensitive nub as she stroked up and down his length until he thought he would explode from the slow torture. He wanted to bury himself in her depths but then her scent hit his nose and he knew that he just had to taste her first. He moved lower, and her hand fell away with a frustrated sigh, but then she was keening as he latched his mouth onto her, tongue playing over her delicate folds, lips plucking at the hard ridge at the top. She was spilling onto his tongue and he lapped up every drop and thrust inside for more until she was begging him to fill her. He was reluctant to pull away from his feast but he didn’t want to make her wait.

With a loud groan he pushed himself into her and she cried out her thanks, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down again to kiss him as he moved within her. She met his every stroke and when he reached between them to drive her higher she was the one who started moving faster, taking him deeper and deeper until she had to break off their kiss with a cry of his name. She clenched around him, the ripples of pleasure shaking her whole body, and when he gently squeezed one breast the ripples became waves again, washing over her. The feeling of her tight walls grasping him was more than enough to push Andrew over the edge, and he gave way with a shout, pouring into her with his essence, and filling her ears with all the words of love that he knew.

When they finally came back to earth, they landed in each other’s arms, still murmuring ‘I love you’ and placing soft kisses on heated skin. Monica shifted slightly to place her head on his chest and Andrew reached down to drag the quilt up over them.

"Thank you for that," Monica said with a tired but satisfied grin remembering that this was the first time since their talk that Andrew had been the one to suggest making love.

"Thank you?" Andrew laughed, "I think you’ve got it backwards."

"No. I don’t," she replied decisively, and as she drifted off into a light cat-nap Andrew just smiled and held her close.

*****

Monica smiled as Andrew slipped up behind her in the kitchen the following night and wrapped his arms around her waist, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek, "Feeling all right, baby?"

"I feel perfect," She replied, unable to resist turning in his arms long enough to kiss him tenderly. In all honesty, she hadn’t felt this good since becoming human. Yesterday had reaffirmed her beliefs that God was still taking care of them as He had brought her beloved husband back to her, safe and sound.

Monica had insisted on going to work this morning, especially after having taken off a few days the previous week for bed rest and she had been thrilled when Andrew had stated he would like to come along. She had suggested that he might be bored, but he had informed her that nothing could be further from the truth as he was never bored when he was with her.

Andrew had called Paul on the way to the station to make sure that things were well under control as well as to invite the couple to dinner that night to celebrate the wrap up of such a stressful case, and Paul had been pleased to accept. Andrew had a feeling that part of his enthusiasm was in knowing that Monica’s cooking was no longer something to be feared.

He had enjoyed the show and watching his wife do work that was second nature to her and they had gone to lunch when it was over and Andrew had been pleased to see that Monica’s appetite and cheerful personality were once again firmly intact. She had chattered almost non-stop through the meal, anxious to do more work on the nursery that weekend and he was unable to stop smiling. He had his wife back and all the little things he loved so much about her were emerging once more. Because of his renewed infatuation with her, he had been unable to help taking her home and making love to her in the slow, lazy way they both enjoyed. He was now certain that even human life could be perfect as long as he had her by his side.

"Paul and Alex should be here any minute," Andrew remarked, lovingly wiping at a smudge of flour on her cheek, "Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?"

"Positive, but thank you for asking. All I need to do is put the vegetables in the steamer and everything else is already cooking and under control," Monica slipped from his arms to do the remaining task and then looked over at him, "You can grab wine glasses for the three of you out of the cupboard."

"Water for you, angel?" He asked and watched as she nodded her head. Such simple things, but he loved each and every one of them. He would have never thought he would love being human and though there were definite disadvantages, the advantages were outweighing them at the moment. It all just felt right and wonderfully comfortable, even if it was as simple as puttering around the kitchen with her.

The doorbell rang and Monica wiped her hands on a towel and looked over at her husband, "I’ll be there in just a minute," She told him softly as he moved to the kitchen door to go out and welcome their friends. Her breath caught as she watched him move to the door, thinking again of how boyishly handsome he was, how strong and how sure and how much she loved him and she felt happy tears prick the backs of her eyes.

Andrew seemed to sense her gaze before he could swing open the door and before she had even realized what had happened, he had moved back to her and had her face in his hands. He kissed her slowly at first and then with slightly more passion and her dark eyes were shining when their lips parted.

"What was that for?" She whispered, their faces only inches apart.

There was a tender smile on his face as his eyes traced over every feature of hers, "Just for being you, baby. Just for being my wife, my dearest friend, my love. All of those things and so much more. I love you completely, Monica, now and forever and though I’ve said it before, I just wanted to tell you again."

Emotion welled up in her throat as she smiled and managed to whisper, "I love you too, Andrew."

The caress of his hand on her cheek lingered as he left to answer the door and a moment later she moved to follow him, stopping at the bulletin board by the door. They had glanced at it yesterday, briefly, but now her eyes took in every picture; pictures of she and Andrew, of their closest friend, Paul and Alex and their little godson, Matthew, of Tess. Each picture spoke of so much. Love, friendship, loyalty and trust were all summarized in a few dozen pictures and as her hand moved to her stomach she knew that in a few months there would be a new face to add. A face that God and love had allowed to exist.

Through the closed door, she could hear Paul going on like a proud father, remarking on the job her husband had done yesterday and though unable to hear exactly what was being said, Monica could still hear Alex’s slightly teasing and sarcastic tone as she mocked them playfully. Reaching up, her finger lightly touched a picture of Andrew that had been taken on their wedding day and she smiled.

It was time to join them, her husband and her friends and take the place that God had made for her here. A place she knew she now belonged.

Alex was frantic. She was late for a meeting, Paul was shouting for her, Matthew was crying and now the phone was ringing. She sat on the corner of the bed to pull on her pantyhose and cursed as she put a hole right through it with her toe. Hurling the pair of stockings across the room she grabbed another pair and shoved them into her briefcase. She hastily threw on her sweater as she hurried out of the bedroom.

"Get it Paul," she muttered under her breath as she ran into the nursery. "Get it, get it, get it."

"Alex, we’re going to be late and now your mother is on the phone!" Paul shouted up the stairs.

"Great," Alex continued her muttering as she struggled to balance her briefcase under one arm while hoisting Matthew from the crib. "Tell her I’ll talk to her when we see her!" she shouted back.

Matthew was screaming right in her ear and he reached out with one hand to grab a fistful of her hair. She let out a startled cry, which only made him scream louder, and then he started coughing as he ran out of breath. Alex tried to pat him on the back to calm him but a second later he was spitting up all over the back of her sweater.

"Alex, come on! We’ve got to get out of here!" The frustration in his voice was clear and it was something Alex had rarely heard directed at her.

That was it. She couldn’t take any more. "Then go!!" she cried, shouting it so loudly that it overpowered Matthew’s crying and carried down the stairs. "Just go! Get out of here! I’ll get there when I get there!"

At the foot of the stairs, Paul shook his head and gritted his teeth. "Fine. Not a problem," he grumbled, and then he was marching down the hall and out the garage door. The next thing Alex heard was the sound of the car backing out of the driveway.

She sank to the nursery floor and immediately burst into tears. Was this how it was going to be? Was it just going to be one day after the next of frantic mornings and baby puke and Paul yelling and clothing that clearly some man had designed to be not only uncomfortable but also practically self-destructing? And now what was this? She was crying! She never cried! She wiped furiously at her eyes with the back of one hand and then moved Matthew so that she was cradling him in her arms.

He was looking up at her with wide eyes, filled with something akin to shock. Clearly he didn’t think she was supposed to cry either. The newness of it had stopped his own screams and he flailed one hand upwards, reaching towards her face. The motion was so sweet that she had to laugh around her next sob, and then she leaned forward and let her hair fall around him, breathing in his sweet scent and brushing his cheek with hers.

That was how Paul found them.

"Alex?" he said quietly as he stepped into the room.

She was startled and looked up before realizing that her eyes were still brimming with tears which were still probably smeared over her cheeks, and her face was no doubt a blotchy mess. She quickly looked back at Matthew, lying in her lap, and tried to take a few breaths and subtly hide her eyes.

"Baby, you’ve been crying?" He knelt down next to her and brushed a hand against her cheek.

"It’s nothing," she insisted roughly. "Just hormones. It’s stupid!"

"It is not stupid. I’m the stupid one. I shouldn’t have left without you. I’m sorry."

She sniffled and then turned her head to face him, her expression beginning to fold. "He was crying and the phone was ringing, and then he spit up on me, and nylons were invented by heartless bastards!" she wailed, and he couldn’t help but smile slightly as he kissed her gently.

He tenderly helped her out of her sweater and put it on top of the baby’s laundry hamper, then helped her to her feet. He led her over to the comfortable chair by the crib and sat down, pulling her and Matthew down onto his lap. The baby was gurgling happily and Paul ducked his head to meet Alex’s much less happy eyes.

"Bad morning," he stated.

"Very bad."

"I wasn’t much help," he confessed.

She pouted for a moment. "No, you weren’t!"

He gave her a hug. "What if I promise to do better?"

The pout deepened for a second and then she relented. "That would be a good start."

"I love you."

The pout disappeared. "I love you too," she said as she held Matthew close and cuddled into Paul’s embrace. "This is just hard! Harder than I thought it would be," she admitted.

"I think this is one of those practice makes perfect things," Paul replied.

"And I yelled while I was holding him," she said softly.

Paul chuckled and kissed her hair. "I think he’ll get over it."

"I suppose it’s better than yelling AT him," she allowed.

"And no doubt we’ll be doing that soon enough," he said with a wry grin.

She finally felt herself relax and she let out a little laugh. How could he make her laugh when she’d been in tears just minutes before? It had to be love. "Yeah, you’re probably right," she agreed.

"So," he said after another minute of just holding his little family close, "do you want me to help you finish getting ready?"

Alex stood up and handed him the baby. "You just hold him for five minutes. I’m changing into pants!"

She could feel Paul’s eyes on her as she left. Somehow even bad days couldn’t stay that way for long when she thought about everything that she had been given. Meanwhile the more prurient side of her mind was already deciding to on the grey linen pants. Not only did they outline what she knew he considered one of her finer attributes, but she also happened to know that the button was slightly loose. That would make getting out of them that much easier when they got home again. Yes. She was a lucky, lucky woman.