Chapter 9

Monica awoke the next morning alone, instantly aware that Andrew’s arms were no longer around her and she shivered slightly at the loss of his warmth. She strained to hear the sound of the shower, but the house seemed quiet and glancing at the clock she found it to be just before seven ‘o clock. Slipping out of bed, she padded downstairs in search of her husband, but instead found a note from him near the kettle.

He had gone in early, had again apologized and told her how much he loved her and the whole thing brought stinging tears to her eyes. She never should have told him. Monica could already feel the distance he was putting between them, subtle as it was, but Andrew was always stalwart and unwavering. There were certain things that were never supposed to change. The fact that he always came to bed with her, that he never lost track of time and that he always kissed her good-bye in the morning just to name a few. Now after being honest with him last night, already those things had already changed and it not only hurt, but left her feeling undeniably guilty. He had never meant to hurt her, but now he was carrying around guilt and anger at himself and that was her fault. The pain over making him feel that way was almost unbearable.

Wiping her hand over her eyes, Monica drew in a deep breath. She was starting as co-host today and she couldn’t dwell here now, no matter how difficult it would be to put her mind on her job. She had to find a way though and once the show was over at noon, then she could try to focus on how to repair the damage she had done to her perfect marriage.

*****

"Lunch later on, you guys?" Alex poked her head in Paul’s office, hearing the commerical from the radio show and smiling at knowing that they were listening to Monica’s show just as she had been.

"I’m in," Paul grinned at her as he looked up from the computer screen. Glancing over at Andrew, who was reading over some reports, he rolled his eyes in Alex’s direction, "Andrew, how ‘bout you?"

"Sure," The angel muttered, never looking up from the page he had been staring at for the past several minutes, but not having read a single word.

Alex raised her eyebrows in question but Paul just shrugged his shoulders, "Oh and Paul, can I see you for a sec?"

Knowing his wife really wanted the scoop, he excused himself and followed her from his office and down the hall, "Don’t ask me," He began immediately, "He’s been like a bear with a sore ass all morning!"

Alex frowned, recalling her talk with Monica the day before and wondering if that subject had any bearing on their friend’s mood, "Well, did you try to talk to him?"

"Of course I did but he isn’t offering any answers. Maybe it’s just an off day for him."

"Off day? Andrew? Come on, Paul, you know better than that. The guy’s been walking on clouds for two months and it looks like one hell of a storm has just rolled in."

"Well, whatever it is, he isn’t talking about it. Maybe you can get something out of him at lunch," He looked hopeful as truthfully to see Andrew this moody caused him to be having an off day. He gave her hand a quick squeeze, "I’ll see you at noon."

*****

Monica leaned back in her chair and gazed at the clock on the wall. Nearly done. The morning had been calm with no huge issues and the change from call screener to co-host had been effortless giving how often Ray had drawn her into the calls the past several weeks anyway.

Ray was just finishing up a call when he announced on air, "We have time for one more this morning. Stacey, who do have on the line?"

Monica looked over at the young woman who was stepping in as their temporary screener and noticed the worried look on her face, "We have John on the line…asking for Monica."

Steeling herself for this particular caller and forcing her thoughts away from Andrew, she grasped her mic, "Hello John. How are you today?"

There was a brief pause, before the familiar voice came on the line, "They have the wrong man. You realize this, don’t you? A smart girl like yourself…"

She immediately tensed and could feel Ray’s concerned glance on her, "The killer has been caught, John. Do you have a question?" she was anxious to get him off the line, in no mood for his games this morning.

"Sure. My question is how can you be so blind, Monica? You believe they caught the killer because you want to believe that is what happened. It doesn’t add up. He shot at a policeman this time and his targets have been FBI agents in the past. The paper says he gave a full confession but only to the latest crime. Your husband doesn’t have him, Monica. They aren’t even close."

Frustration was eating at her, but the angel struggled to remain calm, "I suppose that is for a jury to decide, John. It isn’t up to me to do that."

"It was a copycat, Monica," He continued, the low voice sending shivers down her spine, "You feel safer though in believing they have him. You’re sleeping better at night in bed beside your husband knowing you don’t have to fear him going to work in the morning. It’s a false sense of security that you’ve bought into because it is convenient, not because it is the truth. All you have to do is look at the facts to see that."

She pressed her lips together tightly trying to steady her voice, but Ray obviously caught her rush of emotions as he began to speak.

"Sorry, John, that is all the time we have for today," Ray began as he disconnected the call and continued on with the ending of the show, all the while watching as Monica took off her headphones and headed out of the soundbooth, walking in the direction of the break room and he was quick to follow her a moment later.

"Don’t let people like him get to you," He advised her softly as he laid fatherly hands upon her shoulders, "God is trying to reach them and He will in his time."

"I know," Monica whispered shakily, blinking back tears, "And it isn’t even just him. It’s everything." She knew she could never tell him the conversation that had transpired between she and Andrew last night or the things that had happened since, but at the very least, she knew Ray would pray for them even without her asking.

"I have time, Monica, if you’d like to talk-." He began, but was interrupted when Stacey burst into the break room.

"Another FBI agent has just been shot downtown! A woman this time! The report just came in-."

Monica barely heard the rest of what was being said as she sank into a chair and buried her face in her hands as a soft sob escaped her, but a moment later, she looked up at Ray, her face pale, "John."

"John? What are you talking about?"

"It was him! He hung up on me and then this happened," Monica said, as if the conclusion was obvious.

Ray shook his head and laid a hand on Monica’s shoulder. "Honey, don’t get yourself worked up like this. It was not John. He’s just a man searching for meaning in this crazy world. The shooting was a coincidence. It had nothing to do with him or with you."

Monica’s eyes were sad and serious. "You’re wrong. It has everything to do with me. If it hadn’t been a woman agent, it could have been Andrew." Her hands suddenly flew to her mouth as she realized what she’d said. The number of female agents only numbered in the dozens. "Alex!"

The reverend wasn’t sure what to say to calm her but thankfully the shrill ring of her cell phone interrupted. She fumbled with the button and then frantically answered it. "Andrew? Is that you?"

"Yes, baby. It’s me. I’m fine."

"What about Alex?" she exclaimed.

"She’s fine too. She’s right here in the office. Her mother just called, completely frantic and Alex is going to head over there now."

"Oh, thank God," Monica sighed with relief. As her heart stopped its racing she slumped into one of the break room chairs, and gave a little wave as Ray left to give her some privacy. "You kept your promise," she said softly.

"The last thing I want is for you to be worried about me… or about any of us," Andrew replied, thinking that after everything else he’d done, this was the least he could do for her.

"Thank you, Andrew."

There was silence as they were both lost in thought for a moment, and then Andrew spoke. "I have to get back to work. Paul and I are heading to the scene now. I’ll try not to be late."

"Take care of yourself. I love you," Monica said quietly, hoping that he could hear the love in her voice through the phone.

"I will, and I love you too," were his final words before hanging up the phone.

Monica stared at the phone for a minute before closing it and slipping it back into her pocketbook. His word should have made her feel better, but instead she had a hollow feeling inside. Knowing how much he loved her she had hurt him. There had to have been a better way. Unfortunately it was too late for that and now she was left searching for a way to make it up to him.

*****

"I guess this means I won’t get a chance to find out what’s bothering Andrew," Alex said as Paul walked her to the elevator.

"No, but let’s hope that whatever it is blows over by tomorrow."

"Yeah, and let’s hope you catch this bastard by then too."

He smirked at her. "We’ll get right on it," he said as he kissed her.

There was something about that kiss that made Alex take a step back and stare up at him.

"What?" Paul asked.

"Nothing that can’t wait," Alex replied, and then she kissed him again and stepped onto the elevator.

*****

When Paul walked through his front door seven hours later, he was tired, frustrated, and quite frankly, pissed off. A hundred people had been gathered around where Heather Gamble had been shot, and not a single one had seen anything. Of course that hadn’t stopped Paul and Andrew from interviewing each and every one of them.

Heather worked the white collar crimes division, and she was usually seen in a business suit. It was a fluke that she had been wearing her FBI jacket as she headed out for lunch. A fluke that had cost her life. It was pointless and senseless and Paul was sick of it. More than that, for the first time he was afraid, and not for himself.

He walked into the kitchen and saw Alex laughing as she tried to feed Matthew smashed up bananas in milk, and not being very successful by the looks of it.

"I’m gonna say that bananas are not his favorite food," he commented.

She glared up at him for an instant before rolling her eyes and laughing again. "You may have a point."

"Or maybe he just misses getting his food straight from the source," he said as he leered at her playfully.

"Keep it up, mister, and someone else’ll be going a completely different kind of hungry," she teased. Giving up on the banana experiment, she wiped at Matthew’s mouth with a cloth and carefully picked him up, propping him against her shoulder in his favorite position.

Paul leaned down to kiss them both. "Is your mother doing better now?"

"Yeah, just took a while to convince her that I’m not going to get killed tomorrow." She looked up and caught a look from him. "Hmm. It looks like now is as good a time as any to continue that conversation from this afternoon."

"What conversation was that?" Paul asked, slightly confused.

"The one in front of the elevator."

"I don’t remember saying anything," Paul hedged.

"Yeah, but sometimes it’s all in what you don’t say. So let’s have it. I think I can already guess what’s coming."

"Fine." Paul let out a breath and took a step closer. "Obviously this wacko is still on the loose, and now it looks like he’s taken another step down the ladder of sleaze by shooting a woman."

"And?"

"Look… you know I don’t have the right to ask you this, and so do I… but I’m going to ask it anyway. Please take a few days off."

"Paul…" Alex was already shaking her head, having suspected that it would come to this.

"Alex, this may be the lowest blow I’ll ever throw, but here it goes: I don’t want Matthew to grow up without his mother."

She sucked in a breath and reflexively tightened her hold on the baby. "Yeah… that was pretty low," she said quietly.

"I’m sorry, Alex," he said and she could hear the remorse in his voice. "But with both of us in the agency… what if the worst happened? What then? Try to think of this as being like the parents who refuse to fly on the same plane just to lessen the odds of making their children orphans."

"We always said those people were crazy."

"Yeah, well now I can see the reason behind it."

Alex closed her eyes for a moment and that was all the time it took for Paul to wrap his arms around her and the baby. She leaned into him and let out a sigh.

"All right. How about this: I’ll work from home for the rest of the week and if I have to go out in the field I won’t wear anything that even smells like FBI, and I’ll borrow Monica’s car. That’s about as non-standard issue as you can get."

Paul chuckled. "You’ve got a deal. I’m sorry to have even pushed the issue, Alex. I just love you and…"

"You made good points. Just remember that I don’t want him growing up without a Daddy either."

"Neither do I," He replied softly, resting his hand on Matthew’s head as he looked from his son back to his wife, his voice suddenly thick with emotion, "Do you think he’ll sleep now?"

Hearing the hidden meaning behind his words, Alex nodded her head, "Just let me get him settled, honey."

Paul stood back as he watched her head up the stairs, knowing that she and the baby in her arms were his entire life and he would do everything in his power to keep his world intact.

Alex was surprised when she walked into their bedroom to find it empty but then the sound of the shower reached her ears, remembering that her husband often liked to try to wash away a particularly difficult day. Slowly she began removing her clothing, knowing also that tonight was about need; a need for them to be together as today had shaken them both in new ways. They had been so sure they had caught him, only to find out just how wrong they had been and now another life had been taken. It had been hard blow and they had no more to go on than they did before and it felt as if they were starting all over again. Now she would be left in the same predicament as Monica was; waiting at home and praying for the safety of those she loved.

Removing the last of her clothing, she lay down on the bed and waited for him and it was only a few minutes before the bathroom door opened and her breath caught in her throat. A towel encircled her husband’s waist and the rippling muscles across his chest and shoulders still showed droplets of water and between that and the feeling of his eyes roaming over her naked body, she was already feeling a moisture between her legs.

Reaching out her hand, she waited until he took it and she pulled him to the bed, taking her other hand and pulling away the towel, smiling softly at his already growing erection. Lowering himself down next to her, Paul kissed her tenderly and then with more passion as he parted her lips with his tongue to explore the sweetness of her mouth. Soft sounds were already coming from her as her fingers trailed over his shoulders and her nails scraped softly down his back.

The passionate kisses left them both breathless as he uttered, "I love you, Alex," before he had moved down her body to take one erect nipple into his mouth, covering as much of her breast as he could as he sucked and lapped at her, leaving the tender bud red with his teasing. Alex was already arching her back as she reached for his hand and guided it down to her throbbing center, her whispered words pleading for his touch and he did not disappoint her.

He stroked through her wet folds lightly at first as his mouth moved to her other breast, lapping at her with his tongue and teasing the sensitive little nub with his fingers, hearing her moans and soft cries increasing in need and volume. She could feel his own need straining against her thigh and she was nearly desperate to have him fill her as he pressed two fingers into her and she threw her head back against the pillow. She was already so close, but longing to wait for him to join her. Grasping him in her hand, she stroked him purposefully, hearing the guttural moan that the action inspired and Paul couldn’t wait any longer.

Pushing himself into her, he didn’t waste any time in setting a momentum and Alex quickly matched his rhythm as her hands kneaded into his shoulders, urging him on, not that he needed it. He was thrusting purposefully as he kissed her once more with a heat and a desire that sent her tumbling into oblivion and he called upon everything in him to keep from joining her too soon. Slowing down his thrusts, he reached between them and found the little nub once more, stroking it with his fingers as he drove into her harder, and as she tightened around him a second time and with his name on her lips, he followed her, emptying all that he was into her pulsating warmth.

Completely spent, he slipped from her depths and looked into her face, his breath catching at the tears in her eyes, "Baby?"

"Don’t you dare leave me, Paul Gatlin. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare…" She dissolved into tears.

He felt dampness in his own eyes as he tugged her into his arms and held her up against his chest, feeling the fear she had been trying to hide for the past week, "Not if I can help it, sweetheart," He whispered, moving to kiss her forehead, then just cradling her close to his body as her tears finally subsided and she fell asleep.

He was awake holding her for a long time, thinking about all the things he loved so much about her and how he would give his life for her. Then he decided he’d first be damned before he gave it for a madman.

*****

The clock on the mantle was quickly approaching midnight when Andrew walked into the house and locked the door quietly behind him. Walking into the living room, he found his wife sound asleep on the sofa, her expression pensive even in sleep. Reaching out a hand to touch her, he stopped and shook his head in complete disgust with himself as his eyes traced her sleeping form.

She was so delicate, so petite and he had hurt her with his own needs and desires for her. He wasn’t sure he would ever forgive himself. He remembered their honeymoon when she had been so afraid of the pain she had associated with sex and then he had been able to show her something different, something tender and gentle. That was all changed now. Like William Grady, he had hurt her. No, maybe it wasn’t quite the same, but the pain had still been present and he had apparently been so caught up in himself that he hadn’t even noticed.

As carefully as he could, he lifted her into his arms and carried her up the steps to their bedroom. Monica had already turned down the bed and Andrew gently laid her down and covered her with the sheet and blanket, making sure she was tucked in snugly.

"I’m so sorry, baby," He whispered as he stared down at her, before thrusting his hands into his pockets and walking back down the stairs, his heart feeling heavier than it had in quite some time. Wandering into the kitchen, he found a plate Monica had left him in the microwave and it made his heart clench. She was always thinking of him and he couldn’t even give her the fucking consideration she deserved.

He heated it up and though it was good, he could only manage to eat half of it. Getting up from the table, he went to scrape the rest of it into the trashcan when he noticed that most of Monica’s meal was already there and he knew she had probably been upset about the shooting. He was fairly certain that there had been no problems with the radio show, as he had heard most of it before the news of the shooting had caused he and Paul to race out of the office. But still, the fact that she hadn’t eaten dinner didn’t sit well with him.

After putting his plate in the dishwasher, he headed back to the living room and pulled his laptop from his briefcase. He didn’t think he’d be sleeping anytime soon, so he’d may as well get a little work done.

*****

Monica was bleary eyed when her alarm went off in the morning, but she was instantly awake when she realized that once again, her husband was not lying beside of her. Had he even come home last night? Had there been another shooting?

She was trembling as she sprang out of bed, but then her heart calmed somewhat. She had fallen asleep on the sofa, so Andrew must have brought her upstairs last night. Sinking back down onto the bed, she felt the relief of knowing he had at least been home, but the fact that his side of the bed had not been slept in caused her heart to ache almost painfully and a lump to form in her throat. Since their conversation two nights ago, she had spoken to him for a total of a minute on the cell phone yesterday and already she was feeling hopelessly lost and alone.

Monica had longed to call him last night when he had not been home by nine ‘o clock, but along with not wanting to be overbearing, she had wanted to give him some space if he needed it to try and sort out the anger she knew he was feeling with himself. She had been hoping he would see that in no way did she harbor any bad feelings about what had happened, instead she was left berating herself for the way she had told him. Maybe she could have simply guided him the next time they had made love. Then he would have understood with never knowing that he had caused her any discomfort at all. He wouldn’t have been hurt and she would have spent last night in his arms, but instead the opposite had happened and it only seemed to be getting worse.

She was crying when she dialed Alex’s cell number and she was barely able to get her friend’s name out when she heard her pick up the phone.

"Monica?" Despite her own concern for Paul at the moment, she was instantly alarmed, "Honey, what is it? What’s wrong?"

"Andrew…Alex, everything’s wrong!"

The little angel was barely choking out words and Alex gripped the phone tighter in her hand, "Monica, listen to me. You have got to calm down," Her mind was already racing. Andrew had been in a mood yesterday and now this. What the hell had happened? She waited until her friend had quieted somewhat before she continued, "Honey, let me come over. It won’t take me long to get there."

"I…I have to work, but can I meet you after the show?"

"You don’t sound as if you are in any condition to be working, Monica, yet alone driving," She replied sternly, already knowing Monica would protest.

"No. I have to go in," Despite all the other problems right now, she still had suspicions about John, even though Ray had her partially convinced she was wrong. She needed to be there in the event he called, "Can I come by after work?"

"Of course you can," Alex’s voice was gentle and brought a new flood of tears to Monica’s eyes, "I’m working from home for a few days, so that is where I’ll be, but listen to me. Don’t you get into a car until you have calmed down completely. Understand?"

"I won’t. I promise," She was already feeling a tiny bit better. She needed to talk to someone who she could be completely honest with and she knew Alex was that person, "I’ll see you around twelve thirty."

Chapter 10

Monica went through the show half in a daze and though Ray noticed, he was kind enough to pretend not to. He guessed that it had everything to do with the previous day’s shooting and it was just something that she was going to have to come to terms with on her own. The show only had ten minutes left to go when he caught a slightly worried look from Stacey, who had taken over screening their calls and he raised one eyebrow in question.

She mouthed the name ‘John’ and he felt himself torn. Monica hadn’t noticed, and he wanted to just wrap up and ignore the man, but that would be like turning his back on someone in need. No matter how unpleasant John could be, he was still one of God’s children, and Ray couldn’t ignore that.

Instead he forced his voice to sound welcoming as he said, "Well, it looks like we have our new regular caller back again today. John, you had something to add to the discussion?"

Monica’s head immediately shot up, and she thanked God that she hadn’t skipped work.

"Yeah, I just had a couple of things to say. I don’t know if I’m gonna get the chance to call again."

"Why is that, John?" Monica said. "You know we’re always here to listen."

"Yeah, but you aren’t quite as good at handing out the answers," he shot back.

"Sometimes they aren’t ours to give. Ultimately everyone has to figure things out for themselves, in their own time and on their own terms."

"I figured you’d say something like that. I guess the shooting yesterday didn’t affect you as much because it was a woman."

She was shaking her head as if she thought he could see it. "That’s not true. It was still a horrible and needless tragedy. That always upsets me."

"Needless to you, maybe. And I think you’re lying. I think when you heard it was a woman you were filled with relief. At least I hope you were. That’s why I did it after all. I wanted to prove that what you told me the other day was a lie. Your answers… your opinions are completely tied up with your own life. God’s truth just happens to intersect it once in a while."

As John was speaking Monica felt her heart pounding against the inside of her chest. Pounding so loudly it was beginning to drown out everything else. The look of shock on her face matched Ray and Stacey’s and she barely managed to speak.

"That’s why you did it? You?" she tried to hold her voice steady.

"Yeah, I figured I’d have to spell things out for you. What you see as a tragedy God may very well see as necessary, and while you justify in your head that some things are just meant to be, I can guarantee that if I’d killed your husband yesterday, or maybe your husband’s partner, you wouldn’t be singing that same tired refrain today."

"John… John… what are you saying? What do you want from me… from us? This isn’t right… you can’t go on like this."

"It turns out I don’t want a damn thing from you, Monica. I was hoping that maybe there was someone out there who could explain things to me, but it turns out no one can."

"No! That’s not true. There are answers, John, and violence isn’t one of them!"

"So you say. I don’t think I’ll be talking to you again, Monica. Have a nice life."

The audible click of him hanging up made the little angel spring from her chair as she looked desperately at Ray and Stacey. Ray was struggling to close the show, while Stacey was already dialing ‘911’ from the booth.

"It was him! It was!" Monica exclaimed.

"Monica… easy… you don’t know that for certain," Ray tried to sooth her. "He’s clearly a disturbed man, but he could just as easily have been lying to you. There is no proof that he was speaking the truth."

"He was… I know he was… I can tell. I know the truth when I hear it, Ray. It was him!"

*****

The officers who responded to the radio station were local police, not the FBI, and as the minutes passed and Andrew failed to call Monica became more and more distressed. If he had heard that call he would have come. He would have at least phoned. But no, there was nothing. Now he wasn’t even listening to the show anymore.

Although the police were very interested in what had been going on, there wasn’t much for them to go on. They were going to report their findings to the Bureau and they assured Ray and everyone else that it would be resolved. The suggestion was made that perhaps the Bureau would set up a trace on all calls into the program in case he called back. Ray expected that to make Monica feel more secure, but she looked like she was a thousand miles away.

Her mind wouldn’t stop running through the list of things she was sure she could have done or said to change things… in every aspect of her life. John’s revelation seemed like just one more indication that when it came to being human she didn’t know what she was doing. She wanted Andrew to be there reassuring her and telling her how wrong she was, but that wasn’t going to happen.

"Monica, are you going to be all right to drive home?" Ray asked as the officers left. She still looked like she barely knew what was going on and the last thing he wanted was for her to get into an accident while she was so obviously distracted.

"I… I’m not going home," she blinked and shook her head, trying to clear her head enough to process his question. "I’m going over to Alex’s house."

"She’s expecting you?"

A nod of her head. "If she didn’t listen to the show then she’s probably already wondering where I am."

"Okay, but if you don’t feel like driving…"

"No, I’ll be fine. Really," she gave him a wan little smile. He was so sweet and concerned, and she didn’t want him to worry.

"Whether he is or he isn’t… it’s not your fault," Ray said as she stood up and grabbed her coat.

"I know," she replied, although her tone belied her words, "sometimes bad things just happen."

Ray let out a sigh as she turned away. There was nothing he could say to counter that.

*****

"There you are!" Alex exclaimed as she all but pulled Monica into the house, "I was starting to get worried!"

The little angel’s face was completely bewildered as she stared at her friend, "You didn’t hear the show either?"

"No. Matthew has been so fussy all morning…" Her voice trailed off as she finally got a good look at her friend. She had just seen her Sunday and it was only Tuesday, but something was terribly wrong. Monica looked pale and drawn and the sparkle that was usually present in her dark eyes had diminished completely. Taking her hand, Alex led her into the living room and to the sofa so that they could sit down, "What happened?" She asked gently, taking the angel’s hand into her own.

At the simple gesture, Monica’s eyes filled with tears as she started speaking, "That caller? John? He admitted to being the killer…he…he killed that agent yesterday to prove a point…to prove a point with me…"

"What?!" Alex burst out, unable to believe what her friend was telling her, "Do Paul and Andrew know?"

She shrugged her shoulders helplessly, "I don’t know. We called the police and they came down to the station, but Andrew never called or showed up," Her voice trembled and she looked away.

Alex quickly placed things into perspective, knowing if the police had been called, then the FBI would almost immediately be notified as well. Though Monica was upset about the caller and the things he had said, the agent also knew that there were much more personal issues at hand, "Sweetie, what is going on between you and Andrew? I’m getting the feeling that it is more than just him not showing up today."

Trying to reign in her emotions as much as she could, Monica tried to continue, "I talked to him the other night, like you suggested, about…you know and everything seemed like it was going to be okay, but nothing has been right since, Alex! I’ve talked to him for a minute maximum since that night and that is when the agent was killed yesterday," Her distress over her marriage intermingled with her feeling responsible for Heather’s death and the tears began to break free. "I had to go get him to come to bed Sunday night and he was gone by the time I got up the next morning. Alex, he always leaves after I do…always! Then last night he never came to bed…and I…I don’t know what to do!"

Alex’s heart was pounding in her chest and for the first time she was seriously wondering if she was going to have to hurt Andrew. But for now, she pulled the angel closer, feeling her shoulders trembling against her arm, "What you need to do first of all, honey, is calm down. This isn’t helping anyone, not you or the baby, or even Andrew for that matter."

"I hurt him, Alex…I hurt him. I know he needed to know but there must have been a hundred better ways to tell him than how I did it!"

"Monica, the male ego is a touchy thing…they are a bit fragile, but he needs to suck it up and deal with it," She attempted a half-hearted smile, but Monica was already shaking her head.

"No. It isn’t like that… not with Andrew." She finally looked over at Alex, her vision blurred by tears. "When we were on our honeymoon, he did and said something that triggered flashbacks for me… he could barely forgive himself for hurting me, even though he didn’t mean to… this the same thing." She drew in a trembling breath, her thoughts racing. "I can’t undo it…but I don’t know how to make it better! I just know he is hurt and angry at himself, and it’s all because of me!"

"Sweetie, you two need to talk this out-." There was raw pain in Monica’s eyes and Alex had the feeling that it needed to be alleviated as soon as possible.

Monica’s reaction was to get up and turn to face her friend, "How can I do that, Alex, when I don’t even see him?!" The words were nearly screamed and a moment later, she turned away as a sharp pain caught her in the abdomen and caused her to draw in a sharp breath, even as she forced herself to calm down. "I’m sorry… it’s just that he is avoiding me and I don’t know what to do. He’s never done this before." The cramp wasn’t subsiding, but she knew if Alex knew something was wrong she would overreact. The one thing Monica was certain about was that all was perfect with her pregnancy, she just needed a few minutes to calm down, "Excuse me…" She mumbled as she turned and walked slowly down the hall to the bathroom.

Alex felt nearly stunned as her friend left the room and was trying to decide the best way to beat the living shit out of Andrew when the phone rang and she quickly picked it up.

"Alex…it’s me."

"Paul?" Her heart had instantly skipped a beat, hearing something in his voice, "What is it? What’s wrong?"

"There’s been another shooting. Haven’t you been watching the news?" He sounded tired and defeated.

"No, I haven’t had time…you’re all right? Andrew?"

"We’re both fine but it is obvious this son of a bitch is picking up his pace. Did you hear about Monica’s radio show?"

Alex glanced down the hall at the closed bathroom door, "Yeah. I heard."

"I’ll be late tonight, baby. Please don’t go out if you can help it," His voice was pleading. He needed to know she was safe.

"Not if I can help it. I promise. Be careful please? You and Andrew take care of yourselves out there," She was somehow managing not to cry.

"You know I will be. I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too," She whispered before he hung up the phone, drawing in a deep breath to keep her emotions intact. Closing her eyes, she let out the breath on a prayer.

"Alex…."

Whirling around, she immediately noticed that Monica’s face was nearly white and she hurried to her side, "Monica?"

"I…I’m having pain…and…there’s some blood…just a little…" Her voice was a whisper, "Alex…I’m not…I’m not losing my-."

"No! Don’t even talk that way!" She was already ushering Monica to the door and helping her into her coat, "Let me grab Matthew and we’ll get you to the hospital. You’ll be fine, Monica. You and your baby will both be fine."

As Alex raced to the steps to get her son from his nursery, she heard Monica call after her softly.

"Alex? Don’t call Andrew."

Two minutes later they were in the car and Alex was breaking every speed limit between her house and the emergency room. She wanted to believe what she’d told Monica, but she couldn’t help but think about all the warnings her doctor had given her when she’d been pregnant with Matthew, and all the warning signs of miscarriage were at the front of her mind.

One of Monica’s hands was tight around the armrest with her other resting on her stomach and she stared straight ahead as they drove. Alex quickly glanced at her as she took a sharp turn and she didn’t like what she saw.

"How is it now, Monica?" she asked quietly. "Does it still hurt?"

The little angel shook her head and bit at her lip. "No… nothing now," she replied, somehow managing to keep her voice from trembling.

"Just hold on, sweetie. We’re almost there." Alex’s hands held the wheel in a death grip and she felt her own throat closing in sympathy for her friend.

All that Monica could think about was how this couldn’t possibly be happening. Even with the rest of her life falling apart, her pregnancy was the one thing she had never worried about. The knowledge and feeling of that tiny life growing within her had become like second nature to her. She couldn’t even comprehend that something might be wrong. Was this God’s message to her? Had she screwed things up so badly that He didn’t trust her to be a good mother? Was He stopping this experiment before it even began? With all the strength she could muster she willed herself not to burst into tears, but she couldn’t stop the convulsive swallowing or the stinging at the back of her eyes.

Alex pulled a screeching turn into the hospital driveway and bypassed all entrances, going straight for the ambulance bay. Illegally parking next to a fire hydrant she jumped out of the car and ran around to Monica’s side, quickly flinging the door open and helping her out.

"I have to get Matthew. You go inside and you tell them exactly what’s happening. Push past anyone ahead of you, you hear me?"

"You’ll be right behind me, won’t you?" Monica asked, suddenly frightened at the thought of going through this alone although she had all but begged Alex not to call her husband.

"Right behind you, sweetie. Now go!" She watched the angel hurry towards the big double doors and waited another half a minute before pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. She didn’t care what Monica said, and she didn’t care what was going on between them, Andrew needed to be here, and he needed to be here now.

"Paul?"

"Alex, what’s wrong?" The words were out before he even realized it, but the fact of the matter was that she wouldn’t have called him out in the field if it wasn’t an emergency.

"Is Andrew with you? I need to talk to him right now."

Paul’s anxiety went right through the roof but he didn’t waste time asking what the trouble was. "Andrew! Get over here!" Alex heard him shouting, and the next voice she heard was the angel’s.

"Hello?" he had no idea why Paul had just shoved a phone into his hand and no idea who was on the other end.

"Andrew, it’s Alex. You have to get to the hospital right now. Right. Now."

"Alex?" his heart thudded to a painful stop in his chest. "What happened? Where’s Monica? What’s going on?"

"She may be having a complication from the pregnancy. You just need to get over here, and I don’t care how."

"Oh, God, no," his words were barely a breath. "Where is she? I want to talk to her."

"She’s already inside. Look, let me lay this out for you. She didn’t want me to call you, okay? Now I don’t know everything that’s going on between you, but I know enough, and you need to get the fuck over it and get your ass over here and stop asking me questions!"

He was gripping the phone so hard he nearly broke it. "I’m on my way. Please, Alex… stay with her… I don’t want her left alone…"

Closing her eyes she tried to calm her own raging emotions. "I’m heading in right now. Just floor it, Andrew. If it’s bad, you’re not going to have much time before they need to start making decisions." She didn’t want to tell him that those decisions revolved around determining that the baby was dead and performing the procedures to remove it.

The only thing she heard was the click of the line going dead.

*****

Inside it felt like forever before Monica could get the admitting nurse’s attention. Then, she haltingly explained what was going on and before she could even look to the door for Alex she was being led down a hall to a curtained area. The nurse handed her a gown with instructions to change and Monica didn’t even have time to ask what was happening to her. The tears she was trying to hold back were getting harder to contain and she fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. Everything was going so fast, and she didn’t even know what ‘everything’ was. She was alone and she wanted her husband and she was too afraid to call him. What would he say? He would be devastated. He would blame himself for this too. Or would he blame her? He had told her to take care of herself. He had all but pleaded with her.

"Monica! What’s going on? Has the doctor been in yet?"

The little angel almost cried with relief as Alex burst in, Matthew swinging by her side in his little carrier.

"No… she just told me to get changed," she answered helplessly.

Alex quickly set the baby down on the bed and moved to help Monica with the buttons. "Let me do that, Monica. Just take some nice deep breaths, okay?"

She nodded and let Alex take over, so thankful that she wasn’t completely alone anymore. She was soon fully changed, and sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling like a prisoner awaiting execution.

"Where the hell is that doctor?" Alex cursed as she paced beside the bed.

"I’m Dr. Andretti. Were you looking for me?" A middle-aged woman pushed aside the curtain and Alex spun around to face her.

"I’m sorry… We’ve just been waiting…"

The doctor waved off her apology and picked up Monica’s chart. "The nurse said you’re having a little cramping and some bleeding?"

Monica nodded, half-afraid to speak.

"And you’re not quite three months along?"

"No… not quite," she whispered, and then, "Please… what’s wrong with me? Is the baby all right? I can’t lose her… please…" the tone of her voice made Alex’s heart break and she reached out to grab her hand tightly.

"Let’s not jump to any conclusions just yet," Dr. Andretti advised. "I’m going to want to do a full exam and we’ll get an ultrasound machine up here as well."

"I wasn’t due to have one until next week," Monica said quietly.

"Well, I guess you’ll be getting it a little early then," the doctor tried to lighten the mood with a quick smile. "Try not to worry yet, okay? Stress will only exacerbate the situation. Plenty of women experience some bleeding during the first trimester with no ill-effects, usually after exercise or some other stress. Were you working out?"

"No…"

"No, but her husband works for the FBI and the shooter just called her radio station," Alex interrupted as soon as she saw that Monica was hesitating to give all the details.

Dr. Andretti’s eyes widened. "Yes, well I’d call that some stress. Just lie back, Monica and we’ll take care of you and your baby. You’re in good hands."

"Thank you," Monica managed to whisper as Alex helped her to lie back against the pillow and she found her hand to be shaking as she grabbed hold of Alex’s hand, "Don’t leave me, please? If…if anything is wrong…I’m not strong enough…"

"You’re going to be fine," Alex reassured her, despite her own fears for her friend. She was not about to focus on anything but the positive until she had a clear reason not to.

Monica held Alex’s hand in a death grip as the doctor examined her as she tried to force herself to breathe normally. But she had never felt so far from normal before. Every aspect of this all too new human life was falling apart around her and she felt powerless to stop it or fix it, yet at the same time she knew she wanted the chance to try before she lost it all.

"So, you’ve already had a sonogram and found out the sex of the baby?" Dr. Andretti asked, deciding to keep her frightened patient talking was the best option.

"No," Monica replied quietly.

"But you told me it was a ‘her’."

She blinked rapidly to hold back tears, "My husband…he wants it to be a girl."

The doctor chuckled softly, "Most husbands want a son that they can teach to throw a ball and rough house with."

A blink and a single tear rolled down her face and into her hair, "Andrew isn’t ‘most husbands’."

Dr. Andretti pulled the sheet back over Monica’s legs, "You can relax now. So far, everything looks fine, but we’ll need that sonogram to know for sure. I am hearing the heartbeat of the baby, so that is a good thing."

"Oh thank God!" Alex exclaimed, feeling the first wave of relief washing over her, as she heard a breathless sob escape the angel, "Good news, honey, good news."

"I’m going to call up again and see what is keeping that machine," The doctor patted Monica’s knee gently, "You hang tight. I won’t be long." She was starting out of the room when the sound of a loud, demanding voice filtered from down the hall.

Monica’s accusing eyes went to Alex’s face, "You called him. Alex, I asked you not to."

"And you and I both know you need him here," Alex replied firmly, "Listen, Monica, whatever is going on between the two of you doesn’t mean a damn thing right now. On top of that, whatever this thing is that is going on with you and Andrew is not worth your health or the baby’s, so I suggest that you both get things out in the open and soon. I plan on telling your husband the same thing."

The angel’s eyes shimmered with tears as she looked away, but when she heard Andrew’s voice saying her name as he came through the curtain, they began to fall.

Andrew looked completely distraught and he felt as if at least half a million thoughts were going through his mind. Monica didn’t turn her head to look at him and Alex had a hard look on her face as her eyes met with his.

"There is a heartbeat, but we’re waiting for a sonogram," She informed him coolly. Giving Monica’s hand another squeeze, she added, "I’ll be right outside, sweetie, if you should need me." And the look she gave Andrew told him that Monica had better not need her.

The warm, comforting hand on the side of her face shook ever so slightly, as sobs threatened to choke her. Monica had wanted him here so badly it had hurt and now that he was, she had no idea of what to say. She only knew that something had changed between them and that she now wanted it back the way it was at any cost.

"Baby?" His own voice was thick with emotion as he tried to will her to look at him. The fact that she had asked Alex not to call him was eating him alive and he wasn’t even sure why she would have requested such a thing…or maybe he did know.

Monica finally turned her head to face him, though she could barely see him through the tears in her eyes, "I’m sorry….Andrew, I’m so, so sorry…"

"Angel," He whispered hoarsely, "You have nothing to be sorry for-."

"No," The sobs broke free as she shook her head, "I have everything to be sorry for…everything…I messed everything up…us…John….the baby…"

"Oh sweetheart, no," He uttered, gathering her into his arms and guiding her head to his chest. He was certain she could feel just how hard his heart was pounding though she was probably too upset to really notice. He was a complete and utter ass. His anger at himself had caused her to start blaming herself and things had snowballed for both of them. He had been avoiding her out of guilt and out of fear of not being able to resist temptation. It was hard to be around her and not touch her and he never wanted to hurt her again, "We’re going to talk this all out, baby. I promise you, but you are not at fault, Monica. Not even close."

He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head repeatedly as she began to quiet and even then, she refused to release him now that he was finally holding her again, "What if something is wrong with the baby?" the words were a frightened whisper.

Taking her face into his strong hands, he looked into her eyes and gave her the reassurance she had been seeking, "Nothing will be wrong, angel. This little one is every bit as tough as her mama." He held her gaze and he felt his heart swell over just how much he loved her. It was the most powerful thing he knew and he would find a way to make things right.

"You must be Andrew," Dr. Andretti smiled as she pushed the sonogram machine into the little room and plugged it into the wall. She could tell her patient had been crying, but she looked more calm now than she had since walking into the Emergency Room.

"Yes, I am. Thank you for taking such good care of my wife," He replied as he dropped his hands from Monica’s face and wrapped his arm tightly around her small shoulders.

"Well, let’s see if we can’t place your minds completely at ease, shall we?" Keeping the sheet over Monica’s hips and legs, the doctor lifted up her gown enough to expose her tummy and poured a bit of the gel over her.

It was cold and Monica flinched slightly as she rested up against her husband, nearly every ounce of energy sapped from her being. Though she knew things were far from settled, he was here and allowing her to lean on him and she was unwilling to even look past that.

"There’s your picture," Dr. Andretti nodded towards the screen as she moved the device over Monica’s stomach, "and things look good…very good actually."
The relief that flooded through them both was nearly palpable and only then could Monica focus on the picture, drawing in a sharp breath at seeing the baby for the first time. Her eyes immediately clouded once more and she felt Andrew’s arm tighten around her as he took her hand in his own and brought it to his lips.

"So, do you want to know with relative certainty what you are having?" The doctor smiled, watching as the couple exchanged a look between them and then nodded, "It seems your husband was right, Monica. You’ve got a little baby girl growing inside of you."

Andrew felt tears sting his eyes as he pulled them from the screen and back to the precious gift he held in his arms. As she looked up at him, her little smile and tiny sob came simultaneously, "I love you, angel," He whispered, swiping at the tears that were falling from her eyes.

"I love you too," Monica managed to say, before he touched his lips to hers tenderly.

A few minutes later and Dr. Andretti had cleaned the gel from Monica and shut off the machine before turning to her patient and her husband, "Okay, here is the lowdown. Monica, what happened today, while relatively normal, it is also a warning. Your friend explained what happened at work this morning and that would be enough to cause anyone stress, though I have a feeling it may have been more than that. You need to take better care of yourself and most importantly, if there is an overabundance of stress in your life right now, you need to find constructive ways to handle it." She waited and watched as Monica nodded her head before she continued, "My recommendation is to follow up with your obgyn tomorrow and to take the rest of the week off work. I would prefer bedrest for the most part and if you have no further incidence by Sunday, go back to work on Monday."

"That won’t be a problem," Andrew replied firmly. No, he would see to it personally that the stress would be alleviated as much as possible and that there would be no more skipped meals because she was too upset to eat.

"I’m glad to hear it," Dr. Andretti shook both of their hands, "Good luck to you both."

Chapter 11

"I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved," Monica’s voice was a hushed whisper as the doctor left the room. "I was so scared. After everything I’ve done… I thought that maybe God had changed His mind… that He didn’t think I would be a good mother…" she choked back a little sob and Andrew sat down next to her and took hold of her shoulders.

"What? That’s what you thought? Monica, you are going to be an incredible mother! I’m the one who put you in here! That stress your feeling… we both know that at least half of it is from me… from what I did…" his voice was filled with disgust.

Her brows drew together as she heard him confirming what she had already suspected. He was still beating himself up because of what she had told him. "Please don’t say that," she whispered.

He was quick to pull her close and softly kiss the top of her head. "Shh… all right… we shouldn’t be getting into this right now." He waited a moment and then pulled back to look into her dark eyes. "I’m going to go tell Alex what the doctor said. You get changed and then we’ll head home."

"Don’t you need to go back to work?"

"Not today. They can manage without me. I have more important work to do." He kissed her once more and then left the room as she placed both hands over her stomach and gazed down at it.

"I swear, little one… I’ll do better. I already love you so much. Every day I just thank God for giving you to me."

*****

Andrew didn’t have to look far to find Alex. She was waiting just down the hall, pacing.

"How is she?" she demanded as soon as he approached.

"The doctor said that she and the baby are both fine. She needs to cut down on the stress and she’s relegated to bed for the next few days."

"Oh, thank God," she let out a long sigh of relief.

"I’m going home with her now, so you can head on out if you want."

"I will, but not before I tell you what I already told her. You two had better start talking to each other or this won’t be the last time you visit the ER… and next time she won’t be the only one in a bed."

"I know, I know…"

Alex shook her head as she continued to stare up at him. "Really, Andrew, I don’t know what the hell you were thinking. You may have been holding off temptation by avoiding her, but how the hell did you think she’d feel?"

His eyes widened as he realized that Monica must have told Alex everything. He couldn’t blame her, after all, who else did she have to talk to? A sudden thought occurred to him. "Oh no… Paul doesn’t know, does he?"

She let out a snort of laughter. "You’ve still got all your teeth and the use of both arms, don’t you? No, Paul doesn’t know, and he’s never going to know."

"I swear to you, Alex, I would rather cut off my own hands than hurt a hair on her head. I never meant…"

"I know you didn’t," she cut him off, "and so does she. That’s why she was so reluctant to tell you in the first place. She didn’t want you feeling guilty about it. Apparently she knows you pretty damn well."

His jaw was tight as he met Alex’s eyes, knowing that he deserved the anger she was currently feeling. "I wasn’t thinking," was all he could manage to say.

"Damn right you weren’t. I love you, Andrew. I love you both. You know that. But right now, Monica is the one who matters and I don’t know what you need to do to purge yourself of guilt and go back to treating her the way you’re supposed to, but you’d better find a way."

"I will, Alex. Don’t worry. I don’t ever want to get another call from you like the one this afternoon."

"Good. Now get back in there. She’s probably changed and wondering where you are." She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Take care, Andrew," she whispered, and then she headed down the hallway to the door.

Alex was right. When he pushed back the curtain he saw that Monica was fully clothed, perched on the edge of the bed, and looking ever so slightly worried.

"Ready to go, angel?" he asked as he took her hand.

"Very ready."

He led her outside and over to Paul’s car. He had borrowed it and it was now parked half in the fire lane and half in a loading zone. Monica let out a small laugh when she saw it and Andrew felt his heart lighten at the sound.

"I was in a bit of a rush," he said with a smile as he opened her door.

If he expected that laugh to be the ice-breaker that they needed he was sorely disappointed, because the rest of the trip was spent in absolute silence. The only thing that made him feel the slightest bit better was the fact that when he reached for her hand she quickly grabbed onto it, and didn’t let go until they pulled into the driveway.

"Why don’t you go get changed and into bed?" he said as he closed the front door. "I’ll bring up some lunch for you."

She shook her head and looked up into his eyes. "You just want to get me all comfortable before we talk, don’t you?"

He pursed his lips together, frustrated at how easily she read him.

She took his silence for affirmation. "Then I’d rather talk now," she said quietly. "The waiting just makes me more nervous."

His eyes snapped open and he gently cupped her cheek in his hand. "No, baby, that’s not what I want at all. You don’t have a damn thing to be nervous about."

"How can you say that? We wouldn’t even need to have this talk if it wasn’t for me! If I had just kept quiet and found some other way of dealing…"

"No!" his voice was a shout that would have frightened her if he wasn’t already touching her so tenderly. "I don’t ever want to hear you say something like that again. Keep quiet about things that are bothering you? Find another way to deal? Does that sound like a partnership to you?"

She shook her head slightly and worried her lower lip.

"Sometimes I don’t know where you get ideas like that. Ideas that tell you that you have to pretend things aren’t bothering you when they are… as if your happiness matters less than mine." He flashed back briefly to another time, when Monica had felt she had to pretend. It had been after the rape, when she had been so sure that everyone would be disappointed in her if she wasn’t "cured". He closed his eyes for a second and then opened them to stare deeply into hers. "I love you so much, Monica, and I want everything to be perfect for you, but you have to tell me when it isn’t. You were right to tell me."

"But… but I knew you hadn’t meant it… and I knew how badly it would make you feel… you haven’t even been able to stand being near me," she said tearfully.

"Monica, that was me being a fucking asshole, and you should have called me on it too. You’re right. I felt guilty because I couldn’t stand the fact that I’d been so oblivious to what you had been feeling for almost three months. And it made me afraid that if I was close to you I’d just hurt you again." He let out a snort of derision. "I guess you see how well that worked out."

Her wide brown eyes studied his face for an instant and then she stepped close and wrapped her arms around him, settling her head against his shoulder. "It’s been over a year but we still have a lot to learn, don’t we?" she murmured.

The relief at her tacit forgiveness rushed through him so strongly that it nearly brought tears to his eyes. "Yes, I guess we do." He held her quietly for a few minutes before speaking again, very softly. "Monica, I love you so much. Please… even when I’m acting like a damn fool, don’t forget that."

She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. "I’ll try to remember," she replied, and then, "Do you think we can fix things?"

"Of course we can!"

"I miss your touch," she said quietly. "I miss you holding me. It’s only been two days, but…"

"I know. It feels like a lot longer to me too."

"If I go upstairs and get changed, will you come and lie down with me for a while?" she asked hopefully.

He stroked one hand through her hair, mentally shaking his head at how lucky he was to have her in his existence and how fucking stupid he could be sometimes. "If you eat a little something first, you’ve got a deal," he replied.

"Deal."

A half an hour and one chicken salad sandwich later, Monica lay contentedly in her husband’s arms, the feeling of his fingers running lightly through her hair comforting her, though she refused to allow herself to sleep. She had been lonely for his company the last two days and had no intentions of sleeping through a day with him, no matter how much this afternoon had tired her.

"Thank you," She whispered after a few minutes.

Andrew tilted her head to meet her eyes, "Monica, what on earth are you thanking me for?"

"For being here. For not going back to work today. For holding me."

Emotion gripped at his heart as he wondered just how low on his scale of "things that were most important" she rated herself, "Angel, this is the place that I always want to be. Even when circumstances take me other places, please know that given a choice, I’d be with you. Every moment I spend with you, baby, is precious to me and every time I am away from you, please know that all I am thinking is how quickly I can get back."

Monica searched his eyes and then asked softly, "May I ask you a question?"

"You know the answer to that," He replied, brushing his lips over her forehead.

"Why did you stop calling me? You used to check in everyday and then last week, you stopped."

His eyes widened as he saw the worry in her dark eyes and he knew he had to come clean about a few more things. He had given her so much to worry about and though he had done them all to try to protect her in some way, his efforts had certainly been misguided,

"I didn’t want to be smothering you, sweetheart. Yes, I worry about you…all the time and not because of anything you’ve done, but just because worrying about you is second nature to me. I always want to know that you are all right."

"But?"

He sighed, "But…when I hear you on your show, angel, you are so confident and so sure of yourself and I just felt that often when you’re with me, you seem more afraid. I didn’t want to be the one making you feel that way, because of my own protectiveness."

"Andrew," Monica reached a hand up to touch his face, "That’s because you are the one place that I can be unsure or even afraid if that is what is in my heart at the time," She smiled ruefully, "I know I’m not always honest with you, but the times that I’m not is when I’m afraid of you feeling badly. Because when you do, you pull away and you are always more upset about whatever it is then I ever was," Her expression saddened as she looked at him, "I think the only times I pretend with you are when your feelings are at risk and I would then rather hide how I feel then to see you upset."

He closed his eyes, seeing one more thing he had assumed incorrectly. After knowing and loving her as long as he had, he would think he would by now know better than to do that, "I’m sorry, baby. This was just another thing I handled badly as I never want you pretending with me. I just didn’t want to come across to you as overbearing."

She returned her head to his chest and gave a tiny sigh, "Neither did I."

"How so, Monica?"

"There are a lot of days I want to call you when I get off work to see if you’d like to go to lunch, but I didn’t want to come across as a nag."

Andrew was unable to hold back a chuckle as he hugged her more tightly, "Sweetheart, I cannot ever fathom that ever being the case. For the record, anytime my job allows time for a lunchbreak, there is no one else I’d rather share it with."

"I guess we need to stop trying to guess at each other," She tilted her head up and grinned sheepishly at him.

"I think that would be a good idea." He smiled tenderly at her and the look of love in his expression brought tears to her eyes.

"I missed you so much," Monica whispered, "I thought I was losing you."

"That won’t ever happen, baby," Andrew advised her softly as he kissed her gently,

"Forever is a long time and that is how long you are stuck with me. Now, why don’t you try to take a little nap?"

"You’ll stay with me?" Her voice was hopeful as she rested her ear against his heart.

"Forever, angel."

Andrew watched as she slowly drifted off to sleep, though he was both relieved and worried that she had not mentioned the calls to the station from John. He hadn’t heard todays call yet, but Paul had told him that there had been one and that John had admitted to being the killer. The FBI was being forwarded a copy of the audio tape, so the angel knew he would be hearing it tomorrow and maybe then he could get a grasp on what she had to be feeling about it. He could only think that she had not mentioned it because of everything that had been happening between the two of them and the scare today with the baby.

He smiled softly. A girl. Another sweet little angel girl in his already perfect world and he knew she would be every bit as perfect as the one who was nestled in his arms.

*****

Alex breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Paul’s car pull into the driveway that evening. She actually hadn’t even expected him until later, given two shootings in two days, not to mention an admission of guilt from the man on the radio show, but she was not about to question. He was home, and he was safe and especially after today she was eternally thankful.

She moved to throw her arms around him as he walked in the back door and she felt him holding onto her tightly, "I’m glad you’re home."

"So am I, honey," He replied, kissing her softly. He was exhausted and longed to fall into bed and sleep until the weekend. The day had been hard as he and his team had searched the area downtown where Michael Cheney had been gunned down that afternoon, but the killer was covering his tracks well. It had been getting to all of them. Even the sound of a car backfiring had been causing them all to tense as if each agent expected to be the killer’s next target.

"Are you hungry?" Alex pulled back to look into his eyes, seeing the fatigue that lingered

there.

"I had a sandwich about an hour ago that one of the guys threw to me. How’s Monica?" Alex had called him long enough to tell him that the hospital had released her, but he had no details. His wife was a pro at only giving the important facts when he was in the field.

"In bed for the rest of the week, but she’s all right. The stress of everything was getting to her."

He gave a disgusted snort, "After what that son of a bitch said to her today on the radio, it’s no wonder."

"You heard the call?" Monica had really said very little about it and Alex had been left to wonder.

"Yeah. The tape came in late today. He pretty much told her he had killed Heather to prove to Monica that the things she was saying weren’t true. That if it had been Andrew…or me, she would have been feeling differently," He laid a hand against his wife’s cheek, "The bastard apparently doesn’t realize that the scare of a female agent going down would have destroyed her as well."

Alex managed to control her temper, though it was proving difficult, "She doesn’t need that kind of fucking guilt right now, Paul. I take it Andrew hasn’t heard it?" He shook his head as her eyes met his, "Do you think he is the killer?"

"It’s hard to say at this point, baby. He could just be some nut trying to turn attention to himself, but we also got the tape from Monday as well when he informed her that the man we have in custody is nothing more than a copycat. I’m hoping we can trace him, but he insinuated he may not be calling again, and with Monica out the rest of the week…well, he seems to only want to talk to her. Though I hate the fact that she is involved in any way, especially right now." Bringing his hand to his eyes, he rubbed at them with his fingers.

Taking his hand, Alex led him from the kitchen and to the stairs, "I think you need a hot shower and some sleep," She advised softly, "It’s been a long week and tomorrow is only Wednesday."

"Agreed," He gave a sigh. He wanted to spend time with his wife and son. He wanted to call and check on Monica. But he was exhausted and the frustration over not being able to find the killer had been compounded when Andrew had left for the hospital today and he had not been able to join him. He had been worried sick until Alex had called him back, both for the little angel and in knowing his wife was out in public and not safely at home. This murderous son of a bitch was taking him away from all the things that mattered in his life and he resented it.

Alex was waiting for him when he emerged from the shower and she didn’t like the look of defeat she was seeing in his eyes and she could nearly feel the tension coming off his body. Patting the bed beside of her, she smiled up at him, "Lie down, babe…stomach, please."

Too tired to question her, Paul did as she asked, resting his head in his arms, "I’m so pissed off, Alex. I wanted to be there today, for Monica and Andrew, to know you were safe…and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do about it."

Moving overtop of him, she straddled his legs and purposefully kneaded her fingers into the tense muscles of his shoulders, hearing a soft groan escape him, "Try to relax, Paul. Everything was fine in the end."

He wanted to tell her that wasn’t the point, but he knew she already knew that. She worked this business as well and knew how often it could take a person away from where they wanted to be. He felt himself beginning to relax as her fingers worked their magic on the knots he was tied up in. He had planned to send flowers to the little angel tomorrow, and after this bit of pampering from his wife, he had a feeling he’d be ordering double, "Sweetheart, that feels amazing."

She smiled, already hearing the slowing of his speech, a sure indication he was fading. She continued to work her way down his back, loving the feel of his strength and thinking about the tenderness of his heart. She was a lucky woman. Better than that really. Blessed.

Hearing his even breathing at last, she planted a little kiss on his shoulder blade and carefully moved from her position. Lying down beside of him, she stroked her fingers through his damp hair, not surprised when in sleep, he reached out an arm to pull her closer.

Chapter 12

Andrew blinked his eyes open lazily and stretched, careful not to disturb the little angel who lay half on top of him. The morning sun was streaming into the bedroom but he was not looking forward to leaving his wife and going in to work.

He had managed to keep her in bed for the entire afternoon, playing card games and scrabble, and then watching her favorite movies. He had even brought dinner up on trays and convinced her to humor him. However, with him out of the house he was sure that she would not be able to stay cooped up in one room. No, the best he could hope for was that she at least stayed in the house.

Looking down at her peaceful face he wondered what the hell he had been thinking, avoiding her. No wonder Alex had been so pissed off at him. Slowly he traced his fingers along her cheek, feeling the same rush of emotions that he always had. Before their honeymoon he had told her many times that all he needed to be happy was to be able to hold her. He was relearning the truth of those words and he was determined to prove them to her again if he needed to. He slid his hand under the covers and moved to rest it on her stomach.

The idea that she could have lost the baby… could have been hurt herself… they were sobering thoughts and they brought his priorities into stark relief. There were really only two. The first was to keep her safe, and the second was to keep her happy. He thought that he had a good handle on the first one. The second he was going to have to work on.

Andrew felt her small hand cover his and he looked down at her and smiled. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very well," she replied, smiling. She closed her eyes again and snuggled a bit closer. "You have to go to work," she said quietly.

"Yes, I’m afraid I do. I’m sorry, angel."

"Don’t be sorry. It’s just like when we were angels. Sometimes our assignments pull us apart." She squeezed his hand tightly. "At least I get to have you come home to me every night."

"I think that could be one of the best things about being human," he agreed.

Her little nose appeared to twitch and an instant later her eyes popped open. "Did you already make coffee? Is it decaf?"

He chuckled lightly, "No, I haven’t been up yet, baby."

"Really? But I’m sure I smell coffee."

A light tap on their bedroom door caused them both to sit straight up in bed, and Andrew quickly hopped out of it as he eyed the door suspiciously.

"Who’s there?"

"Well who do you think could get into your house at seven-thirty in the morning, Angel Boy?"

"Tess!" Monica exclaimed and Andrew pulled the door open and smiled broadly at the older angel who was standing in the hallway with a tray loaded down with coffee mugs and muffins.

"Hello there, Miss Wings!" she greeted her old charge brightly. "I know it’s just decaf for you these days, but I brought a special blend and I bet you won’t even miss the caffeine."

She sat the tray down on the bed and quickly handed Monica and Andrew mugs and then pressed a muffin into the Irish angel’s free hand. "You’re eating for two now," she admonished. "No more skipping breakfast."

Andrew laughed at the bemused expression on his wife’s face and then draped an arm over Tess’ shoulders. "Not that we aren’t thrilled to see you, Tess, but what brings you here? News from the Father?"

"No, rather the other way around. He gave me the news that Monica needed someone to give her a hand for the next few days." Her tone and manner made it seem so innocent, but Andrew had a feeling that she knew much more about what had been going on than she was going to admit.

"Well I wouldn’t say that," Monica replied, "but it’s wonderful to have you here!"

"Monica," Andrew stepped around Tess and sat back down on the bed, resting one hand on his wife’s leg. "The doctor said you should be resting. In fact I think her exact words were bedrest."

She looked about ready to pout but then let out a small sigh instead. "I know. I know," she admitted.

"And that’s exactly why I’m here," Tess said with a smile. "Don’t you worry, Monica. The rest of the week will fly by. You’ll see."

"If you say so," she said, only a bit reluctantly. At the moment all she could see was three days of worrying about whether Andrew was safe.

"You two will have fun catching up," Andrew said as he kissed the tip of her nose, "and it will give this little girlie a chance to get familiar with Auntie Tess’ voice." He lightly rubbed her stomach and he looked so adorable that she couldn’t help but grin.

"Auntie Tess? I don’t know about that," the angel in question said, one eyebrow raised.

"Trust me, Tess," Andrew insisted, "it’s perfect." Standing up, he grabbed his robe, "I’m grabbing a shower. Paul will be here soon to swap cars and get to work."

Twenty minutes later, he was dressed and ready to go and Monica was looking more than slightly apprehensive. As Tess had excused herself as soon as Andrew had emerged from the shower, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside of his wife, watching as she put on what he knew was her bravest smile. The fact that she was trying so hard to make it easier for him to leave her warmed his heart, "Do you have any idea how much I love you, angel?" He asked her softly as his hand moved to stroke her cheek.

"As much as I love you, I hope," She replied, laying her hand over his as she gazed into eyes that she would never grow tired of getting lost inside of.

"More, baby. I think ever since the first time we met, I have loved you."

Monica smiled and shook her head slightly, remembering their first meeting as well and how she had not been all that receptive of him, "If you did, it was because you had to, because you were an angel."

"Maybe," Andrew replied thoughtfully, "But it didn’t take me long to love you because I wanted to…and because it was so easy to do."

Feeling the burn of tears, she moved to hug him close to her, "Be careful today. Come home to me tonight."

Pulling back an inch, he kissed her softly, "Sweetheart, nothing could keep me away."

Another kiss and Monica was left staring at the door from which he had exited until Tess returned to the room a few minutes later.

"Paul sends his love, baby and promises to stop up tonight to see you," The older angel told her as she plugged in the radio next to the bed, "And I thought you might like to listen to your show. Pastor Ray is a good man, baby and you seem to be fitting right in, not that I ever had any doubt about that," Tess rambled on, all the while watching the little angel’s expression as the show came over the radio and Ray explained about her absence.

Monica flinched slightly when he mentioned her being on bedrest for awhile due to her pregnancy as she had never told their listeners she was pregnant…and with John out there and singling her out, she would have preferred that remain confidential information. She didn’t want to risk if he was the killer, him tracing Andrew through her.

"You do realize that Andrew is going to find out today about that call yesterday?" Tess sat down and watched as Monica turned surprised eyes to her, "Yes, angel girl, I know all about it and he will soon as well. What I’m wondering is why you didn’t tell him."

Monica toyed with the edge of the quilt and gave a little sigh, "I’m still trying to sort it all out, Tess, that’s all."

"Sort what out, Monica? Whether or not you’re at fault for that young woman being killed? If that is what is in that head of yours, then get it out right now, baby. If John is the man the FBI is looking for, you in no way contributed to the evil things he has done."

She was quiet for a moment, still looking down at her hands, "Maybe…maybe I would have said some different things…something to not make him think he had to prove anything to me. That’s why he killed her. I just thank God it wasn’t Alex." She knew the words sounded terrible, as if any one death were somehow better than another, but it was how she felt. She’d have never been able to live with herself if Alex had been the one to die.

"You didn’t say anything wrong, Monica. You spoke the truth, just like you always have. John just twisted it around to suit his needs and the sooner you realize that the better."

"I’m not always so sure, Tess," She replied quietly, "Being human is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be and not making mistakes is even harder. I made enough of them as an angel and now, some days, I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing."

"You’re doing fine, baby," Her supervisor reached over and took her hand firmly in her own, "And I’m not the only one that thinks so. That’s the third call in a row of someone just calling in to wish you a speedy recovery. Don’t shortchange yourself, Monica."

The little angel gave a half-hearted nod as she settled back against her pillows and gazed at the clock on the VCR, already counting the minutes until Andrew was home, safe and sound.

*****

His fist tightened as he listened to the recording for the third time. The boys down in the lab were running their tests to see if they could make out any sounds that would give away where the caller had been located. Meanwhile, he and Paul were supposed to be listening for vocal cues, something that would give him away. However, Andrew was having a difficult time hearing anything but the subtle tones of distress in his wife’s voice. She started off perfectly strong as always, but by the end of the call he could tell how devastated she was even if no one else could.

"Andrew? Buddy…"

"I’m sorry Paul," he said as he stood up. "I just can’t listen to that damn thing again."

Paul stopped the machine and looked over at his partner. "I’m sorry. I’m not exactly enjoying it either, but at the moment it’s all we have to go on."

"And what if it isn’t even him? What if this guy is just some sick bastard who gets off on hurting my wife?"

Paul’s voice remained even and steady. "Well in that case we’ll be able to catch him the next time he’s stupid enough to call. Making false threats over the airwaves was a crime the last time I noticed."

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and I bet it gets him a whopping two years in jail."

Watching as Andrew paced the length of the room, Paul let out a breath and leaned back in his chair. "Okay, let’s have it."

The angel stopped dead. "What?"

"Let’s hear everything else that’s bothering you."

"What do you think’s bothering me? We’ve got a sniper out there pegging off agents. I’ve seen almost as many dead bodies in the last week as I used to as an angel of death. Do you know how hard that is? To see someone lying lifeless before you… not able to do anything… when it used to be your job to help them?"

"That’s still your job," Paul insisted. "To see justice done in their names. But I’d say that only accounts for half of your problem today."

"Damnit, Paul, you know damn well what the rest of my problem is! My wife is lying in bed right now. She could have had a miscarriage yesterday and all I could do today is kiss her goodbye." Andrew sank down into a chair opposite the desk and put his head in his hands. Of course there was even more to it, but he wasn’t about to share everything with the agent.

"Well it’s about time you said something about what happened!" Paul declared. "The way you acted when I picked you up she might just as easily have been recovering from the common cold."

Andrew looked up, slightly confused. "We’ve got a killer to catch, Paul. I didn’t think I should bring all the rest of my problems here too."

Paul shook his head, absolutely incredulous. "Do you hear yourself? Look at who you’re talking to. I’m your best friend, Andrew, not just your partner. D’you think I expect you to drop everything else the moment you get in the car in the morning? Hell, I bitched to you about the baby having colic all last week!"

"I’ve already cut out early on you twice since this case started…"

"And with good reason. Buddy, I understand. Believe me, I do."

"Yeah, but what about every other agent here?"

"You’d be surprised how understanding they are too. And if they aren’t they’ve got me to answer to, and I’m the one who runs this division."

Andrew couldn’t help but chuckle at the smug expression on Paul’s face.

"Look. It’s almost noon, and I’ve got Frank working on getting a list of the rifle owners with the name John. With such a unique name I’m sure that’ll really pinpoint him," he said sarcastically. "Let’s get the hell out of here and go to lunch. You barely told me two words about how Monica’s doing."

He felt himself beginning to relax as he looked at the man who knew more about him than any human on earth. "Did I mention that the baby’s a girl?"

*****

That afternoon Paul and Andrew and two other members of Paul’s team spent almost five hours calling every John on the rifle list and trying to match a voice to the tape from the show. By the end of the day they were all frustrated, and just thankful that the day had been free of shootings.

"How do you think she held up this afternoon?" Paul asked as he pulled into the driveway.

Andrew had been able to pull away once to call Monica, but she had been quiet and subdued and he wasn’t entirely certain how she was doing. "She sounded all right on the phone. Tess said she managed to keep her in bed most of the time, so at least she was resting physically."

"You don’t mind if I go on up to see her do you?"

"Of course not! I already told her you’d be stopping by. You know she loves seeing you." Andrew spoke the truth but he also thought that the little angel would probably welcome the reprieve from talking to him about the radio show. He had heard the call now, and there was no way he could ignore it.

The agent had to grin when Tess opened the front door for them before Andrew could unlock it. He had always enjoyed the older, outspoken angel and he surprised by planting a kiss on her cheek, "Tess. Always a pleasure to see you."

She eyed him almost waringly, making Andrew chuckle, "Hello Paul."

"How’s Monica?" Andrew asked quickly, already anxious to be heading upstairs. It had been a long day and he had thought about her every minute.

"She’s been a little agitated since you walked out the front door this morning and I couldn’t convince her to leave CNN off the television, but she has been in bed most of the day. Physically, there have been no problems, though I think there is still quite a bit resting on that heart of hers."

Andrew nodded his head, knowing exactly what those things were, "Paul, just give me a minute and-."

"Say no more, buddy. Go and say hello to your wife. I’ll be up in a few."

Andrew took the steps two at a time and as soon as he walked in the bedroom door, Monica had scrambled from under the blankets and to her knees to throw her arms around his neck. He could feel the small tremble of her body as she held onto him tightly and he ran his hands tenderly over her mane of auburn hair.

"I’m so glad you’re home," She whispered, breathing in the scent of him and feeling the warmth of his body.

"Me too, baby," He replied huskily, marveling at the love he could feel coming from her, "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

"Fine. Perfect now that you’re here," She was still unwilling to release him and wondering how on earth she was going to survive two more days until the weekend. Not working left her with little to do other than worry about his safety and it made for a long afternoon.

He held her in silence for another moment, before pulling back to touch his lips to hers in what he had intended to be a gentle kiss, but his wife had other ideas entirely and when their lips parted, he could see the raw need lingering in her eyes and he smiled, "Now, none of that for a few days, angel. Doctor’s orders." He managed to keep the fact that he was slightly relieved from his voice. He wanted her all the time, but now he was simply terrified of hurting her.

Monica gave a little smile, "I know. I’m just so glad to see you."

"Well, there is someone else coming up the stairs right now who is rather anxious to see you as well," He informed her as if on cue, Paul poked his head in the bedroom and Andrew watched the pleased smile that crossed Monica’ face, "I’ll leave you two to catch up for a bit and I’ll give Tess a hand with dinner." He gave a gentle kiss to her cheek before getting up and leaving the room.

"Paul," Her expression softened as it always did at the sight of the agent who had always held a special place in her heart. Her eyes flickered over to the flower arrangement on the dresser, "The flowers you sent weren’t necessary, but they are beautiful. Thank you."

Sitting down next to her, Paul wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a brotherly hug, "You’re welcome, honey, and yes, they were necessary. I wanted you to know I was thinking about you. You’re feeling better?"

"Much."

"You scared the hell out of all of us yesterday, little angel," He stated, looking into her dark eyes and she could see deep regret lingering in his own, "I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Believe me, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be."

"You had a job to do. Thank you for letting Andrew come."

Paul looked completely flabbergasted by her comment, "Let him come? Monica, nothing would have kept him away, myself included!"

"I know that, I do," She explained softly, "But you have a killer to catch and it’s important. Not just to you, but to me as well. I hate wondering day after day if you three are all right."

"I know that. I’ve thought before about how difficult it must be for you to sit on the sidelines, waiting and wondering."

"It feels impossible right now, Paul and…" Her voice trailed off as she gazed down at her hands.

"What is it, honey?" He coaxed, knowing that there was something more resting on her mind.

"It’s just that I think Andrew has a few more strikes against him right now because of me. Because John has singled me out for some reason and because he seems intent on proving some things to me, like with Heather," She blinked back tears and looked back up at him, "I never dreamed that a radio show could put Andrew in more danger, but it has. I’m even afraid now to go out anywhere," She saw the confusion on his face and elaborated, "I don’t exactly have an unrecognizable voice, Paul. If John is the killer and is out there someplace, I don’t want him hearing it and then seeing Andrew with me. I don’t want him choosing to prove anything else to me."

He felt the tremble go through her and wrapped his other arm around her as well to pull her closer, not wanting her to see the hardened expression on his face, "Honey, lets not go jumping to conclusions, okay? We don’t even know if this man is the killer. For all we know, he is just some twisted bastard who gets his kicks off upsetting you."

"He’s the killer, Paul. I can feel it in my heart. Everytime he called me, someone wound up dead minutes later. He killed a woman to make it seem that mattered less to me. Paul, that could have been Alex, just because I haven’t said what he wanted to hear, but I don’t know what that is."

"You have only told him the truth, Monica, just like you always do," He told her sternly, though his mind was spinning. Though they were tracking John as best they could, he hadn’t yet looked at the times of the calls in contrast to the times of the shootings, but he had a feeling she was right. What he needed was her back on the air, though he cursed himself for even thinking about it. She was pregnant for fuck’s sake and had already had one narrow miss, but yet they had to trace this man and end this for all of them. "I’ll check out the times tomorrow, but you may be onto something." He pulled away to smile and try to lighten the mood, "Ya know, if you ever grow tired of radio work, we could probably use you down at the agency."

Monica emitted a small laugh and shook her head, "Thank you for the offer, not that Andrew would ever let me. Especially not when co-host of a Christian radio call in show is proving to be so harrowing!"

"Well you have a point there!" he said with a laugh. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he stood up. "I should get out of your hair and let you eat your dinner and rest."

She let out a little sigh. "Resting is about all I’m allowed to do."

"It’s what you need right now, Monica. Whatever else is going on, you need to take care of yourself and that little bundle you’re carrying."

A soft smile flitted across Monica’s lips and she moved one hand to her belly. "Did Andrew tell you it’s a girl?"

"Why yes he did," Paul replied with a grin, "and I don’t think it’s too early to tell you that Pauline makes a wonderful girl’s name."

Chapter 13

The next two days seemed to pass with agonizing slowness, and even Tess’ attempts to distract the little angel did nothing to speed the time. She spent the mornings listening to the radio program, ears tuned for anyone who sounded even remotely like John. Then, after lunch, which she barely touched, she spent the afternoon with CNN turned on, volume set to mute as she pretended to read or talked with her former supervisor. It had even the older angel frustrated. The doctor’s orders were bed rest but what Monica really needed was to get out and get her mind off things.

She only really relaxed after Andrew returned home in the evenings. She refused to eat any more meals in bed and so the three of them would sit around the kitchen table, eating Tess’ cooking and talking. The conversation usually strayed back to old assignments and then it would move forward, on into the future. Tess had already remarked more than once that the name Tess was a fine and upstanding name, suitable for any child.

Monica and Andrew just looked at each other when Tess made such comments. So far only Alex had neglected to mention how nice her name was. But then again, Alex had not paid them a visit since the trip to the hospital. Monica’s doctor had confirmed what the ER doctor told them. The baby was a healthy girl, and Monica simply needed to avoid stress and eat better. So far, the angel was oh for two.

She heard a car in the driveway and pushed away the quilt that was covering her legs, quickly moving to the window to see if it was Andrew. Her heart felt a hundred times lighter as she saw his blond head emerge from the car, and watched him give a little wave to Paul before heading up the walk. Then she hurried to resume her place on the bed, book in hand.

Andrew entered the room only a few minutes later and he surveyed the room and raised one eyebrow as he looked at her. She had forgotten to kick off her slippers and they peeked from under the edge of the quilt.

"I think that someone needs a night out," he announced.

"Night out?"

He chuckled. "You are familiar with the term, aren’t you? You, me, a quiet little restaurant in Georgetown? Does that sound like a plan?" He expected Monica to jump at the chance to leave the house, but instead she looked apprehensive.

"What about Tess? We can’t just leave her behind," she said quickly.

"Tess just left. She was only waiting for me to come home. The Father requested her presence."

Monica bit her lip as she searched for another excuse, but the only word that came to her mouth was, "Oh?"

Her husband walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Aren’t you feeling well?" he asked as he picked up her hand. "Tess said you ate even less today than yesterday…"

"No… I feel fine," she was quick to reassure him.

"Then what? I made reservations at your favorite place." He gave her a little wink. "I promise to have you back by ten." In truth he was almost hoping to wear her out. For the past two nights he’d had a difficult time convincing her that it was still too soon for them to do more than kiss.

"You did?" Monica said, a little smile appearing at his thoughtfulness.

"I called them this afternoon. They even have that table by the window reserved." When those words made her smile disappear he knew that something was definitely up. "Monica… what is it?"

She remained quiet for another minute as she gathered her thoughts. "I’m just a little bit afraid to go out right now," she said, mindful of what Andrew had told her about his fear of making her anxious.

"Angel, the doctor said the baby’s fine. I think a night out is exactly what you need."

"It’s not the baby…" she said softly, and he gently used two fingers to raise her chin.

"None of the shootings took place after dark… and we aren’t going to be anywhere associated with the Bureau."

Her forehead crinkled as she looked up at him worriedly, "But what if he’s out there? What if he hears me?"

"What if he hears you? Monica, in the first place we aren’t even sure if your John is the man we’re after, and in the second place, even if he is, he’s already heard you on the radio a dozen times or more."

"Yes, but he’s never seen me. He’s never seen me with you…"

The true reason for Monica’s trepidation became crystal clear and Andrew pulled her into his arms tightly. "Baby, he’s not going to hear you. He’s not. And I can take care of myself. Ask Paul… I’m becoming the best shot in our division."

"I bet the other agents thought the same thing," she said flatly, and Andrew lost his playful smirk.

"Maybe they did," he allowed, "but they also knew that living in fear is no way to live. I admit, I was glad to know that you were safe here at home all week, but that’s not how we’re going to live our lives. God gave them to us to enjoy and treasure every day, and that’s what we’re going to do." He met her gaze and saw that she was beginning to see his point. "Now, up, up, up." He kissed the tip of her nose. "The house special is your favorite tonight, and you don’t want to miss it."

Monica had been relatively light hearted on the drive to the restaurant, but once there and seated at the reserved table, Andrew immediately sensed a change in her demeanor. She was more quiet and her eyes darted around nervously with the sound of every male voice. This was not at all what he had wanted and he found himself growing frustrated. Not at his wife, of course, but at the man who was wreaking havoc on their lives.

Reaching across the table for her hand, he held it tightly, his eyes seeking out hers. He never had discussed John’s last call to the radio show and now he was regretting that decision. But after as high strung as Tess had told him Monica had been during the day, he had just wanted her to relax when he came home at night, "Angel, it’s all right."

"I’m sorry," She whispered, lowering her dark eyes, "I just…."

"Wait here, baby."

She watched sadly as he got up from the table and spoke quietly with their waiter. A few minutes later, the man handed Andrew a bag with their dinners boxed up to go and he returned to the table and extended his hand to her.

"Andrew?"

"You’re not comfortable, Monica, so let’s go someplace where you are," His smile warmed her heart as she reached for his hand and grabbed hold tightly.

He cast occasional glances at her on the ride home, still noting that she was more quiet than usual and he knew it was time to break the silence, "You know that nothing John may have done is your fault, Monica," He began softly.

She looked over at him in surprise and then gave a little sigh, "I know…at least, I think I know. I just can’t help but to think that I’ve placed you in more danger. For some reason, John has picked me out and if anything were to happen to you…well, it would be bad enough, but if anything happened to you because of me-."

He could just make out the tears in her eyes and he shook his head, "Baby, if…IF anything happened, it would not be your fault. Heather was not your fault. You didn’t go looking for this man to call you."

"No. I never go looking for them, but they always seem to find me, don’t they?"

His jaw clenched at her words, knowing exactly what things she was referring to, "Monica…"

"I don’t want to talk about it anymore, please? I’ve waited all week to spend time with you and I don’t want to spend that time talking about this," She looked over at him pleadingly.

He emitted a sigh and nodded his head, "I’ve been looking forward to it as well. We’ll let it go for now, but the conversation isn’t over."

They arrived home and Andrew built a fire in the fireplace and they made a carpet picnic out of their dinners. Monica was much more relaxed and they spent the time after the meal tossing out baby name, jokingly exploring the option of "Tess Pauline" and laughing at the ridiculousness of it.

Andrew was fairly certain his wife was getting sleepy when they finally retired to their bedroom and got ready for bed, but when he crawled in beside of her, she immediately turned to face him and laid her hand against his cheek before kissing him passionately.

His heart was pounding loudly, knowing exactly where she was leading him. He responded, though he tried to back the kiss off to something more tender, but she was unwilling to oblige. His fingers traced along her jaw as he allowed her to lead, all the while, trying to figure out if he could even trust himself. Hurting her again was simply not an option.

The little angel kissed down his chest, running her hands over firm muscle and shuddering in delight at the feeling. She loved how strong he was, loved the feeling of protection he always provided for her. Monica could sense he was reluctant, but she was not going to be deterred again and she grasped him firmly in her hand to drive the point home.

He groaned beneath her touch as she stroked him slowly and he moved to kiss her once more, his hand running over her erect peaks beneath her nightgown. He was infinitely gentle, stroking her breast carefully, only able to focus on not letting himself get lost in the moment.

She knew that something wasn’t working, but unwilling to give up, she guided him to her center, "Now, Andrew, please…" He pushed into her with agonizing slowness, not filling her entirely and his shallow strokes left her feeling frustrated. Attempting to set the rhythm with her hips, it all became a struggle as he stubbornly held back, even as he continued to trail kisses down her neck. They both knew it wasn’t working and she wasn’t surprised when he slipped from her soon after, neither of them fulfilled and Monica feeling empty and wanting. It was all she could do to not burst into tears.

"We must be tired," She murmured as she rolled away from him and closed her eyes.

Andrew watched her and somehow he felt even more terrible than he had when she had told him he had hurt her, but he didn’t know what to offer. He had hurt her before and she could have miscarried this week and he felt unable to jeopardize her safety or the baby’s in any way. Going along with her felt the least complicated at the moment, "I suppose we are."

Monica’s heart was aching still an hour later, when she slipped from his sleeping embrace, grabbed her robe and walked slowly downstairs to watch the last embers on the fire die through blurred vision. The entire evening had been a near disaster and she saw most of it as her fault. She had been unable to relax at dinner, too busy worrying about John and if he might be nearby. She knew the chance of that was slim, but the thought wouldn’t leave her mind and it had even occurred to her that he may know exactly what she looked like. She left the station at nearly the same time everyday, during lunch hour when there were people everywhere she looked. Any one of them could have been him on any given day.

She was so afraid of endangering Andrew yet she had been unable to discuss it, as if telling him would make it even more real. John had shot Heather to prove to her that she would not be as upset so there was nothing stopping him from shooting Andrew to prove just how upset she would be and how she would no longer feel he was entitled to God’s forgiveness. No, instead of telling Andrew that, she had thrown out a comment about the rape, even if it hadn’t been a direct one, knowing how much he hated remembering that time and she had a feeling he still held guilt at himself over it. He would never not feel like he should have been there to save her.

Andrew always wanted to protect her, but now he was trying to protect her from himself and it was almost more than she could bear. She still felt that she never should have told him, not like she had, as now he was holding back and the only connection they could now share felt ruined. He had told her she was right to tell him, but nothing had been right about what had just happened upstairs.

Was this really what it was to be human? To make mistake after mistake and not be able to make sense out of any of it? Monica had no idea how to fix it. John was out of her hands, she knew that. She couldn’t control if he called and what he did, but she was determined that he never know who Andrew was. She simply had to think of better things to tell him, things that would make a difference. Paul and Andrew weren’t convinced he was the killer but she felt certain of that and she hoped her instincts weren’t marred by her now being human. Especially as it seemed that everything else was.

Monica wiped at her eyes, trying to control the tears. She was still jeopardizing the baby by allowing herself to get so upset, yet she couldn’t seem to help it. When Andrew was at work, her stomach was tied up in knots, making eating difficult. She had to do better for their little girl’s sake and the weekend was as good a starting place as any. At least Andrew would not be working and maybe she could find a way to make things up to him. Not only had she hurt him last weekend with her honesty, but even tonight, he had arranged dinner for them at her favorite place, just to please her, and she had been unappreciative and unable to enjoy the treat he had planned for her. He loved her and deserved better from her.

*****

When Andrew rolled over and blinked open tired eyes he just stared at the place where Monica should have been lying. Her absence felt like a physical blow. Was this how she had felt when he had left her lying there all alone one night and then never come to bed at all the next? He closed his eyes as his heart clenched. Things couldn’t go on this way. They just couldn’t. He swung his legs out of bed and reached for his robe, his heart heavy that things had come to this, with Monica abandoning the one place she always said she felt safest and happiest.

He tried to be quiet as he made his way down the stairs but the fifth step down had a creak and when he stepped into the living room he saw that Monica was frantically wiping at her cheeks. "Angel?" he said softly. "What are you doing up?"

"I… I just couldn’t sleep, that’s all," she stammered. "I guess it’s all the naps that Tess made me take."

Andrew walked around the sofa and sat down, pulling Monica’s legs onto his lap. Her liquid brown eyes almost broke his heart and he had to swallow several times before he could speak again.

"I don’t think that’s what’s keeping you up," he stated simply.

She looked about ready to protest again, but suddenly her chin began to quiver and her eyes overflowed as she shook her head back and forth.

"Monica, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please… please don’t cry…" he gathered her into his arms and held her close to his heart, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I know I’ve been fucking things up more often than not lately, but I promise… things will get better. They will."

"No…" she cried, "it isn’t you at all! It’s me! I’ve ruined things between us! And this last week has been horrible because of what I told you, and I’m not even taking good care of the baby, and it’s my fault!" She dissolved into almost hysterical tears and Andrew clenched his eyes shut, mind reeling at everything she had just thrown at him.

He let her cry herself out as he spoke soothingly to her, stroking her hair, and assuring her that she was so, so wrong about everything. It wasn’t until her sobs had turned into little hiccups that he began to speak.

"Monica, nothing is your fault. Nothing at all. Things are happening that are beyond your control, but you aren’t the cause."

"How can you say that? I couldn’t even go out to dinner with you after you planned everything, and then… then… upstairs…" she buried her face against his chest again, hating the fact that she couldn’t control her tears.

"You were uncomfortable going out because of everything that’s been going on, and we’re going to deal with that, but I don’t blame you! How could I? And what happened in bed?" He carefully took her face in his hands and looked down into her eyes. "That was my fault, baby."

"No… no, it wasn’t." She tried to shake her head but he held it firmly. "If I… if I had found a better way…"

"Stop it Monica!" His voice was almost a shout and he sucked in a deep breath, "Just stop. No matter how you would have told me, or shown me, or whatever! I still would have been upset to know that I’ve hurt you." His expression plainly showed just how upset. "Oh, Monica… baby… please don’t blame yourself for the shitty way I’ve handled myself."

"I don’t know what to do… I don’t know what I’m doing anymore," she said helplessly, "and I wanted to at least feel close to you but now… it’s ruined… just ruined," she started to cry again and he tried to keep up with brushing her tears away.

"It isn’t ruined, baby. Believe me, it’s not."

"But you can hardly touch me now!"

He quickly bent his head and captured her mouth, silencing her with a kiss that was hungry and greedy. His tongue flicked over her lips before invading her mouth, tasting the salt of her tears along with her essence. His hands on her face held her steady and one moved around to tangle in her hair, pressing her even closer. When he finally pulled away, her pupils were huge and dark with desire, her chest heaving as she gulped in air.

"That’s why!" he said, shame filling his voice. "That’s why I have been so damn afraid to touch you."

She looked at him with confusion. "But…but why? That was… incredible…"

"Yes, and I nearly lost control. Being with you… it brings out so many feelings in me, Angel. I love you so much, and I want to show that to you…"

"Then do!" Monica pleaded as she kissed the palm of his hand.

"I want to, Monica, but I’m so afraid of hurting you." His voice turned into a low, rasp. "When I think about all the times… when I remember hearing you cry out… it makes me almost sick. If I did that to you again…"

Her eyes were wide and now she raised her own hands to touch his face. "Andrew… it was never like that… never. I never cried out except in pleasure."

"But Monica…"

"Sometimes things got a little too fast… or a little too hard… and sometimes… sometimes I missed the long, slow, lazy way we used to make love sometimes… And it was just everynight…"

"And it hurt you," Andrew said flatly, cutting to what he considered the plain, cold, truth.

"Yes," she admitted quietly, "but not enough to make me not want you!" her voice rose and she looked up at him beseechingly.

He had closed his eyes and he was shaking his head. "I’m just so sorry, baby…"

"Please stop saying that! Please… just tell me that you still love me and you want me…"

His eyes snapped open. "Monica… I love you more than anything! Anything! And I want you all the time… that hasn’t changed…"

"Then show me," she said quietly, "I trust you with all that I am, Andrew. Now that you know… I don’t think it would be possible for you to hurt me again… even accidentally…"

Her expression was so filled with trust and love that Andrew felt a knot rising in his throat. He leaned forward to kiss her again and just prayed that she was right. Her mouth was warm and soft and he could feel the desire within her as she pressed closer to him as the kiss deepened. Their tongues dueled hungrily and then he was lifting her up into his arms to carry her upstairs, no longer willing to wait for her.

He placed her back on her feet next to the bed and in one flourish motion, swept her nightgown up over her head. His eyes immediately darkened at the sight of her body as he moved to kiss her once more, his hands lightly stroking over her bare shoulders, down her arms and to her hips where they briefly settled, tugging her slightly closer. His wife had already untied his robe and gently pushed it over his shoulders and it fell to the floor softly.

Her mouth trailed tender kisses down his chest, her small hands grasping his arms and then he moved to capture her face in his own hands to kiss her once more as he laid her back on the bed, moving in next to her, the kiss never breaking and seemingly never ending.

"You’re so beautiful, angel," Andrew whispered huskily once they had briefly caught their breath, "Just so perfectly beautiful," His hand brushed lightly over her cheek as he held her gaze, "I love you with all that I am."

Monica’s heart felt so full that she felt fresh tears sting the backs of her eyes, "I love you too… so much, Andrew… just so much."

The words were barely out before his mouth was trailing down her neck and nibbling at her ear, causing soft moans to escape her and when his warm mouth surrounded her nipple, the moans turned to needful cries. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders desperately, pressing him closer, back arching to offer herself to her husband and lover.

As he moved to lick around her other sensitive nipple, his fingers lightly stroked down her tummy, pausing briefly, lovingly at the still small bulge that was their baby daughter and his breath caught briefly in his throat over the little miracle they had been allowed. Releasing her nipple, leaving it darker and erect, he moved down her body and laid tender kisses on her stomach.

"I love you too, my other little angel girl," He whispered, barely loud enough for Monica to hear him, but when he felt her hands lightly stroking through his hair, he knew she had. Kissing once more over her navel, his fingers moved to lightly stroke her, before parting her delicate folds with his fingers. She was already wet and throbbing as he teased the length of her, tickling the little nub at the top as her cries increased in intensity and volume.

Moving a bit lower, his lips brushed over her inner thighs as he settled in between them and began lapping at her slowly, nearly groaning himself at her sweetness and feeling himself growing harder. He could tell how close she was to the edge, so he worked her with agonizing slowness, hearing her pleas in his ears. Monica’s fingers were clutching at the quilt repeatedly and her breath caught when he leisurely pressed two fingers into her throbbing core, curling them to press against the spot that drove her to the edge of insanity and this time was no exception. By the third hit, her body tensed and she cried out his name as she rode the waves of the intense orgasm.

Not finished with her yet, Andrew continued to probe into her and then added his tongue to her throbbing nub, lapping at it hungrily until she fell a second time, surprising him with how it didn’t lose most of the intensity of the first. Unable to wait another minute to be buried in her warmth, he positioned himself at her entrance and though still slightly apprehensive, he pressed into her fully.

Her eyes fluttered open and the look of love and complete satisfaction she gave to him reassured him as she nodded her head and then she was moving her hips against him as he thrust slowly into her, building up her need for release once more. Kissing her tenderly first, he increased his momentum, only careful enough to make sure she was matching it, but she was crying out again and unable to hold back himself, he spilled into her with a shout that was muffled against her neck as she tightened around him once more. Monica’s body was shuddering and she was still holding him tightly in her grasp, as he laid loving kisses on her face, calming her though the aftershocks.

A minute later, she was curling into his arms as a tiny sob escaped her, "I love you," She whispered, holding him close, "Thank you for not being afraid. It was perfect…so perfect."

Andrew closed his eyes, lips brushing her forehead, her words and her trust making him all the more determined that things would be better for her. No matter what it took, he was going to do all he could to make sure she was happy, "Thank you for trusting me with something so precious, Monica. You."

She let out a contented sigh, as her fingers traced along his chest, "I want it to be this way all the time."

"It will be, baby. From now on. I promise," He was hesitant to say anything more about anything else. It was after one ‘o clock in the morning and it had been a difficult day, but he wanted to take as much worry from her as he could. "I know you are afraid right now, sweetheart,.. of this man we’re looking for, but please believe me when I tell you how careful I am being. Whoever he is, we’re going to catch him and I promise you, I will be home that same night."

Monica was quiet for a moment and when she spoke, her voice was barely audible, "His name is John, Andrew."

"Baby, we don’t know that for certain-."

"I do," She replied, looking up at him, her expression solemn, "I’m as sure as I was that Shawn was not the one abducting those little girls. I know I’m not an angel anymore, but I can feel it, Andrew, and I know I’m right."

His hold on her tightened. It wasn’t enough that they had a man targeting FBI agents, but if she was right, this same madman was singling out his wife and calling her on the air. It infuriated him and terrified him all at the same time, "I’ll talk to Paul about it this weekend. We’re following up on John, angel, but we just don’t have much to go on. The calls at the station are going to be traced in the event he does call back, so, as much as I hate it, the best thing that could happen would be for you to keep him on the line as long as you can." Hating it didn’t even begin to describe it. The longer the bastard talked, the more chance there was of him hurting her by his words. What he would prefer was for Monica to hang up on him as soon as he called.

"You know I’ll do all I can," She assured him softly.

"I need you to something else for me too, baby," He stroked her hair tenderly, feeling her nod beneath his hand, "I know how hard things have been, but you can’t let them upset you to the point where you aren’t taking care of yourself. A lot of what has been happening is my fault and it won’t be happening again if I can help it, but Monica, you are so important to me…the most important thing in the world to me and you’re pregnant."

"I know and there isn’t any excuse for it as I should know better. It’s just that when…when you’re at work, I’m so worried right now and my stomach gets all tied up in knots it makes eating impossible."

Kissing her softly once more, he replied without hesitation, "Then why don’t you start meeting us for lunch during the week? You’re out of work by noon. I’ll call and let you know where to meet us." Though he had not hesitated, he was almost loath to bring her into the danger zone right now, but he also knew it would help ease her mind to see him during the day and bring him the peace of mind of knowing she was getting lunch. A little protectiveness put aside was really a small price to pay.

"Really?" Her tired eyes opened wider as she looked up at him, causing him to chuckle.

"Nothing would make my day better than knowing I get to see you at half time, angel."

"I would really, really, like that, Andrew." She hesitated. "Are you sure it won’t interfere in your work?"

He pulled the quilt up over her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Seeing you will set my heart at ease too. That can only help me on the job."

"I love you, Andrew," she murmured as her eyes fluttered closed.

He waited until he knew she was asleep and then carefully brushed the hair away from her face and spent a long minute just staring at her peaceful face. "Father," the word was barely a breath, "I don’t deserve her love, but please, help me to earn it." His hand wandered down to her stomach. "They are everything to me, Father. My heart… my soul… everything." He rested his cheek against her hair and let out a deep breath. "I love you, Monica. Sleep well, Angel. I promise you’re never going to wake up alone again if I can help it."