Prologue

"I really cannot thank you enough, Monica," Joshua Kelly said with a smile that came straight from his heart, "I always knew that there were angels out there, but I honestly never thought God would send one to me directly."

The angel smiled sweetly, her heart nearly bursting with happiness at how well this assignment had turned out. Joshua, though a brilliant prosecuting attorney for the state, had been lacking in the time he spent with his family, so much so, that he had failed to realize the trouble that his teenage daughter, Missy, had gotten herself into. The young girl had been crying out for her father’s attention for a long time, and had finally found herself in a relationship with a man older than she was and nothing short of abusive. Monica had known that Missy had settled on whatever attention she could get, from whomever she could get it from, but had the situation not been remedied; it very well could have ended tragically.

The Irish angel seemed to see so much more of this kind of situation in this day and age, where both parents worked and in the case of the Kelly family, both parents held prestigious jobs. Joshua’s wife, Heather was an oncologist in a private practice and both she and her husband had worked long hours more often then not, leaving their daughter to fend for herself. Though Missy’s parents could give her anything money could buy, no amount of wealth could give her the attention she longed for from her parents or the security a child needed to feel in knowing that her parents loved her enough to be there.

But in a matter of only a few short days, the Father had been able to turn it all around, with some help from Monica and now, the angel could not be more pleased, "God loved you and your family, Joshua. He just wanted to make sure that you were all focused on the same priorities."

The human chuckled at the sparkle in Monica’s eyes, her optimism contagious now, though he had resisted it at first, until he had seen in truth, what had been happening with Missy, "Well, if you ever need a good lawyer, I owe you one." He teased gently. Though he knew she was an angel, she had endeared herself to his family over the last few days and he knew that they were all going to miss her presence.

"Joshua, let’s hope you are never prosecuting me for anything," Monica laughed easily with a shake of her auburn head, "If you are, then it is safe to say that something went wrong somewhere."

Finally exchanging good-byes, Monica saw herself out and as she stepped foot out on the porch, she smiled once more at the beautiful starlit night. Closing the door behind her, she breathed in the late spring air, the sweetness filling her lungs. Sitting down on the porch steps, the angel just took a few moments to enjoy the warm night and reflect on the last few days.

Though things had gone remarkably well, at least from her perspective, she was still anxious to see Andrew again, as she had missed him over the course of her assignment. A smile broke out over her face at the thought of her dearest friend and the relationship that they shared. She was anxious to tell him about this assignment and she knew he would listen intently; sharing her joy with her at the way things had turned out for this family.

Tess, of course, was always interested in listening to her as well, but the Irish angel often liked to hash over those tiny details that made assignments unique and Andrew had been blessed with an indefinite amount of patience that Monica was often convinced he needed when dealing with her.

The music of the chirping crickets was interrupted by a "thud" that seemed to land at her feet, startling the angel out of her reverie. Looking down, she moved to pick up the newspaper that had just been tossed, and then looked back up with a smile at Tommy, the paperboy, who Monica had gotten to know over the course of the last couple of days. He was a good kid, but was more often delivering his papers in the dark due to being distracted by something else.

"Tell Mr. Kelly that I’m sorry it’s so late," Tommy called out to her from his bicycle, "Baseball practice ran late tonight. He’ll want to see the front page though as there is an article on his last case." Exchanging a wave with the angel, Tommy sped off to try and get the rest of his papers delivered.

Holding the paper in her hands, the angel welcomed the peace once more, knowing she really needed to get going, but deciding that a few more minutes before being whisked away to her next assignment certainly couldn’t hurt anything. Had that been the case, Monica was sure Tess would have already shown up to lovingly scold her about "dawdling".

The minutes flew by as she just enjoyed the warm night and the solitude, using it to offer up her thanks to her Heavenly Father for allowing things to turn out so well in her assignment, before she knew she really should leave. Rising to her feet and stretching, Monica looked down at the paper in her hands, remembering Tommy’s words about Josh wanting to see this one, and she turned back to the house. Still seeing the living room light on through the curtains, the Irish angel walked back to the door and turned the knob.

The sight that greeted her seemed to shatter the enchanting evening altogether as her horrified eyes first came to rest on Joshua’s all too still body on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood. Monica’s face paled considerably, as a scream lodged itself in her throat, even as her eyes moved to meet squarely with those of the man holding the gun.

The gun that was now pointed at her.

She stared into the man's eyes and saw nothing there that spoke of any kind of goodness or humanity. She had never seen him before but now his face was indelibly drawn in her mind. Her small hands shook and the newspaper dropped from her suddenly numb fingers. It fell apart as it hit the floor, spreading pages across the hard wood floor.

"You picked the wrong time to get home, honey," his voice was low and threatening and he took a step towards her, causing her to involuntarily back herself against the wall.

Closing her eyes against what she feared might be about to happen, she sent out a prayer to God and loving thoughts to Andrew. She couldn't imagine what he and Tess would do when they found out. Then she looked up, determined that she would be strong whatever the cost. Her dark eyes were filled with apprehension, but they still held a trace of her stubborn spirit.

"Don't worry… I think it only hurts for a minute," he mocked her as he trained the gun on her chest.

His finger tightened on the trigger and Monica clenched her fists, thinking once more about her best friend and her supervisor and sending them both her love. Suddenly, at the instant that he fired, car headlights lit up the room, shining through the open front door. Somehow his aim wavered and the bullet went wide, embedding itself deep into the wall. Then his eyes went wide as he realized that he didn't have time to do anything else.

It only took seconds for him to run out of the room and the Irish angel heard the back door slamming open as he escaped. She looked again at the still body on the floor, and her eyes filled with tears as she slumped to the floor, dizzy with relief for herself and sorrow for the man before her.

Chapter One

Sirens in the distance heralded the imminent arrival of the police, but Monica could hardly hear them through the ringing in her ears. Her head felt heavy and her mind was spinning with everything that had just occurred. She knew that Heather and Missy would be walking through the front door any second and she couldn’t even force herself to prevent them from entering, although the last thing she wanted was for them to see the man they knew as husband and father sprawled unnaturally across the floor. All she could do was sit, in a complete state of shock, her eyes never leaving the doorway the murderer had run through.

"Baby? Baby, are you hurt?" Tess’ voice broke through Monica’s dazed stupor.

The younger angel still seemed reluctant to let her eyes drift from the scene, even after she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She shook her head and willed her eyes to focus before looking up at her supervisor.

"T-Tess? I thought… I thought you were Heather… and I didn’t want her to see… but I couldn’t…" Monica was stammering as she pushed herself off the floor, and her tear-filled eyes begged Tess to make everything right.

"Monica, you need to calm down. Heather and Missy aren’t here. The Father sent me. I was clear on the other side of the country waiting for you when He told me to come back here instead." Her tone held annoyance, but looking at the devastation on the other angel’s face, she couldn’t maintain her anger for long. There would be time enough for lectures later.

"I just stayed a little while longer," Monica tried to explain.

"And you ended up seeing something you were never meant to see, Angel Girl. Now we’re all going to have to deal with the consequences of that."

Monica lowered her eyes, knowing that she deserved much more than the mild sternness Tess was speaking with, but just longing to be held and told that things would be alright. The older angel seemed to read her mind, and her expression softened as she opened her arms to pull Monica into her comforting embrace.

Flashes of color surrounded the pair as the police cars swarmed into the driveway. Within seconds a pair of officers was inside and approaching the pair of angels, while more policemen circled around the building. Monica and Tess were quickly ushered into another room as the officers radioed back to their station and to each other.

"That’s right… yeah… a man down. You’d better send a forensic team," the officer in charge said solemnly and Monica felt her tears start again as she heard those very final sounding words.

The officer turned then to Tess and Monica, a small notepad in hand. He had a feeling that the pretty little auburn haired female had seen something as she was visibly shaken and the more information she could give him, the better. Taking a seat across from the two angels, he looked over at them, his blue eyes kind, "Can you tell me what you know of what happened here…" His voice trailed off, realizing he had never even asked her name.

"Monica," Tess replied for her friend, seeing as how her young charge was struggling to pull herself together enough to speak, "She was temporarily working for Mr. Kelly. The job had just been finished tonight and I came over here to meet her."

The Irish angel shot her friend a grateful look as she forced herself to clear her jumbled mind. The last time something like this had happened, Monica had made the mistake of being far too honest and had admitted she was an angel, which had led her to a psychiatric hospital and it seemed that neither she nor Tess wanted that repeated, "I had been out on the front porch, just enjoying the evening for a bit before I was supposed to meet my friend," She stammered, somewhat guiltily, "I came back in to give Josh the paper, but he…" She swallowed hard and blinked back tears, "He was already dead."

The officer nodded his head in understanding, "Did you see anyone nearby or was there anyone in the house who is not usually here?"

"The man who did it was standing over Josh’s body," She replied softly, feeling Tess bristle beside of her and Monica was unsure if it was out of annoyance that this was worse than she had thought, or out of protectiveness at knowing she had been in the same room with the murderer, "He was going to kill me, but then you showed up and the lights startled him enough that he missed his target thankfully." Her dark eyes glimpsed into the other room, hoping to see Andrew somewhere nearby as she longed for his comforting presence, but she was sorely disappointed to not see him.

She couldn’t help but wonder if she had only come into the house sooner, if maybe she could have stopped this, and the fact that she had been sitting out on the porch enjoying the beautiful night, while her assignment had died on the other side of the door did not sit well with her. She had stayed when she shouldn’t have, but hadn’t even been able to stop this from happening.

Monica’s thoughts were interrupted, as through the window she could see Heather and Missy being stopped on the front porch by another officer, who was apparently breaking the news to them as gently as he could. Their anguished cries could still be heard through the glass and tears clung to the little angel’s lashes.

"Monica," the officer interrupted her thoughts, clearly seeing her distress, "Would you be able to describe the man who allegedly killed Joshua Kelly and tried to tried to hurt you? I would even like you to meet with our sketch artist so she could sketch a composite based on your description. It would definitely help us with who we are looking for."

He watched her slowly nod her head, even as he knew that they had much bigger problems on their hands. Monica had seen the killer.

And the killer knew that.

*****

The next few hours were a whirl of activity that Monica could scarcely keep up with. She felt drained and overwhelmed by everything. Officer Jackson had escorted her out of the house, and Heather and Missy had fallen into her arms in tears when they saw her. Heather was begging for explanations and information, and Monica felt helplessly inadequate to give her either. Only Tess’ hand on her arm had kept her from breaking down again herself.

Once at the police station the angel was questioned again and again by different officers until she felt that she had actually relived the events. She watched as an officer brought in one man who had been caught one block away from the house. She thought for an instant that maybe things were drawing to a close, and that soon she would be safe at Home and in Andrew’s arms, but one look and she shook her head. He wasn’t the man who had shot Josh.

She sat near one of the detective’s desks, Tess hovering nearby, as the commotion went on around her. Officers shouting about possible suspects, the loud footsteps as people rushed in and out, phones ringing in the distance, and the incessant ticking from the small clock on the desk beside her; it all melded together in her mind until she could hardly stand the din.

Finally, she and Tess were led into a quiet room and introduced to a sketch artist. Monica described the image that still existed in her mind, of the man’s face staring at her so coldly, and the artist’s hands moved swiftly, putting that image down on paper.

"Thanks, Linda," Detective Montrose said as he held up the sketchpad and turned it to face the two angels. "Is this the man?" he asked.

Feeling her heart race even as all color left her already pale face, Monica nodded. "That’s him," she whispered.

The detective’s expression turned grim and both Tess and Monica noticed it and were surprised. "Thank you, Monica," he said, looking down at the drawing with a sort of angry recognition on his face. "I need the two of you to stay here while I make a few calls."

"What seems to be the trouble, Detective?" Tess asked, never one to mince words.

Detective Henderson looked at them and sighed. He didn’t really want to be giving this speech yet and decided on the most abbreviated version. "We know this man. We know him, and so does the FBI. So right now, I just need you to sit tight while I consult with them about how best to keep you safe."

He and the sketch artist left the room, and Monica turned to her supervisor. "Keep me safe? But… but surely I need to get Home now… they can catch him without me, and no one can keep me safer than God, right Tess?" she said, her words laced with uncertainty.

"Baby, you are the only witness to a horrible crime, and I think these may be some of the consequences I was telling you about. You can’t just go Home now," the older angel replied as she watched the hope drain from the little angel’s face.

"But I didn’t actually see him shoot Josh," She stammered, suddenly wanting nothing more than to forget this whole thing had ever happened, even though she knew that would be impossible.

"Angel Girl, I suppose that could be called circumstantial evidence, but it is mighty strong evidence against this man. You saw him standing over your assignment with a gun, he tried to shoot you Monica, and no one can ignore those facts. You are the one and only witness to any of this, baby," Tess spoke as gently as she could, able to see only too clearly how overwhelmed her charge was.

"So, they want to make sure that I won’t disappear on them? That I’ll testify?" She asked wearily, oblivious to what Tess already understood, but was reluctant to share, "Fine, I won’t, but why can’t I go Home until the trial?"

"It isn’t that easy, baby," The older angel replied with a sigh, "Yes, they want to make sure you testify but more importantly, they want to make sure this man doesn’t claim another victim." Still seeing confusion in Monica’s exhausted eyes, Tess reached for her hand and squeezed it gently, "You, Angel Girl. They want to make sure he doesn’t come back for you in order to finish what he started. He knows you saw him, Monica, and he knows you will testify against him if he is caught."

The little angel dropped her head into her hands, wanting to alleviate the feeling of her world spinning out of control, "Why did I stay? I was supposed to have left 45 minutes before I did! I stayed and for what? I couldn’t even stop this from happening…"

"Sweetheart, what’s done is done and there is no turning back. You just have to move forward where God leads you." Seeing that her words weren’t helping much, and wondering herself where Andrew was, Tess just rubbed her friend’s back gently. Andrew always had a way with Monica, especially when her heart was heavily burdened, but there had been no sign of him so far.

Before Tess could think of anymore advice to give, Detective Henderson returned to the room, closely followed by another man, wearing a suit and a badge and the older angel had a feeling this man was not with the police department.

"Monica, Tess, this is Agent Paul Gatlin with the FBI, " Detective Henderson explained, watching as Paul shook hands with the two of them, before the agent took a seat, "He needs to explain some things to you, Monica."

Paul didn’t miss the weary look in the younger female’s eyes, as she seemed to be struggling to keep her emotions intact after what he knew had been a very long evening for her, "Can I get you both something?" He asked kindly, trying to meet Monica’s dark, troubled eyes, "Coffee?"

The smallest of smiles formed on Monica’s lips as she nodded her head, "That would be lovely."

A few minutes later, he had returned with a styrofoam cup of steaming coffee for Monica and a cup of hot tea for Tess. Monica eagerly accepted the beverage, as she quietly thanked him, and the agent waited patiently until she had sipped at the drink, watching the hint of pleasure that shone in her eyes at the taste. He smiled, making a mental note of her obvious love of coffee as he wanted to know all he could to make her smile, especially in the days ahead that she would face.

"Monica," He began as gently as he could, once she had seemed to relax a little bit, "We’ll be leaving here soon for someplace safe. The man that you encountered tonight is extremely dangerous and I know he has not taken the fact that you have seen him lightly. His goal right now is to find you, and it is my job to make sure that doesn’t happen. We’ll be flying to a secure spot, where you will have to stay until he is caught."

Once again, the room felt as if it were spinning for the little angel as she listened to his words, "But that could take a long time. My friends…"

"I know," He said softly, seeing her distress, "Your life, unfortunately, is about to change, Monica, until this is over. I’ll be the one you’re stuck with, as well as another agent who will be meeting us there."

She swallowed back the horrible lump that had formed in her throat and concentrated on keeping her hands from shaking as she nervously clenched them together. The small, encouraging smile left Paul’s face as he watched Monica turn her eyes to the floor, to her hands, to anywhere but his face. He turned instead to Tess.

"If she has any family, now would be the time for her to contact them. It won’t take long to get things set up, and once we leave she won’t be allowed to talk or even write to them."

Tess nodded sadly, and kept her comforting hand on her Angel Girl’s back as Paul left the room. As soon as he left Monica lifted her eyes to meet Tess’. The older angel saw that a tiny bit of hope had reappeared and she was afraid of what might have caused it. She was afraid of being the one to snatch it away again.

"I don’t know how a human could go through something like this," Monica said. "To be separated from their friends and family. At least I will still get to see you and Andrew." She watched Tess’ face, waiting for her to agree with her.

Instead, Tess shook her head. "Angel Girl, that isn’t how this is going to work…"

"But you’re an angel, Tess. You can come with me and God will provide a reason for you to be there," Monica tried to reason with her, although her own thinking was far from rational.

"No I can’t. That isn’t what the Father has in mind. Things have been set in motion, and He isn’t going to just randomly interfere to allow me to remain with you. I think that I may be able to see you occasionally, but He has other work for me to do as well…" she trailed off, feeling like her words made Monica’s situation sound somehow like an inconvenience when in fact the idea of leaving her charge for an undetermined amount of time was something that she could hardly imagine doing.

Monica had known that things would be hard, but this went beyond unexpected. She had simply assumed that Tess would be allowed to accompany her wherever she went. Andrew! She hadn’t even seen him! Did he know she was being sent away? She needed to be able to at least see him and say good-bye. If only she had gone to him as soon as her case was over. She had been so eager to tell him about it. No… instead she had lingered where she was never meant to be!

Tess saw the flurry of emotions passing over the Irish angel’s face and she knew exactly what and whom she was thinking about. "Monica, stop. You need to stop getting yourself worked up, and concentrate on preparing yourself for what is to come."

"But, Andrew!" Monica’s words were both a plea and a prayer.

"I’m sorry, baby. If I knew where he was I’d get him here in a flash. You know that," Tess picked up one of Monica’s ice-cold hands and held it tightly. "Just know that he will certainly be thinking of you, and if there is anyway for him to go to you, I know he’ll take it."

Monica nodded, and unable to talk anymore, she wrapped her arms around the angel who had guided her for so long. She didn’t know how she’d manage without her presence, but she knew that she would have to do her best.

Within hours, Paul was back and gathering Monica and her things together. Tess had run out to get a suitcase of clothes that had appeared in the trunk of her car, and Monica had at least had the presence of mind to give a bittersweet smile at the fact that the Father always provided for them. Feeling as if she never wanted to let go, Monica hugged Tess, relishing in the feeling of peace she got from her, and putting the memory of that feeling in a place deep in her heart.

"I love you, Angel Girl," Tess said, her own eyes bright with tears. "Don’t you worry about anything. Things are going to work themselves out just fine."

Chapter Two

By the time the plane was preparing its descent, Monica had gone beyond tired, both physically and emotionally. The little angel knew it had to be sometime in the wee hours of the morning, but her mind was still reeling too much to even try to sleep. The fact that the private plane held no other passengers other than Paul, herself and the pilot, only added to her feeling of isolation, despite the fact that she knew that God was with her.

"Still awake?" Paul asked, coming out of the cockpit, and not missing the tired look in her eyes. He saw her nod her head as he took a seat next to her, understanding all too well, the things she must be feeling. He had been in this situation before with witnesses to terrible crimes, and he never liked having to tear them away from their lives, their families or their friends, "We’ll be landing soon, so before too long, you’ll have a warm bed in which to catch some sleep."

Though she didn’t much feel like talking, Monica resigned herself to trying to find out more about her situation and about Paul as well. If he and his partner were going to be her only means of company for however long this would take, she may as well start now. She loved God’s children deeply and unconditionally; it was just that the events of last night had left her feeling numb and frightened and she wasn’t enjoying either of those emotions, "So where are we headed exactly?"

"A farm in the middle of nowhere, to be as exact as I can," He replied with a smile, "The agency uses this place occasionally, especially in circumstances such as yours. So you will have your fill of fresh air, and if you like to ride, you will have that available to you as well, providing you always take an escort."

"Nowhere by myself, right?" She asked, feeling a little sad at this fact, though the farm didn’t sound half bad to her.

"Monica, we only want to keep you safe," He interjected gently, "The trial after he is caught is secondary to that. Douglas McArthur has eluded us for a long time, the last time getting off on a technicality. He’s a dangerous man, Monica, and we don’t want him slipping through our fingers again, nor getting to you before we can track him down."

"Did he have a reason for killing Josh?" She asked softly, rubbing her temple with her hand, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on and reminded her once again how long today had been and how tired human forms could become.

"Joshua Kelly was the prosecuting attorney at McArthur’s last trial and this man knows how to hold a grudge," Paul replied patiently, glad that she was finally beginning to ask questions as it was a good sign that she was accepting what was happening to her and wanting to learn as much as she could about what needed to happen in order for her to get her life back.

"So, he’s now going to be looking for me." It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement that left a bad taste in her mouth.

"And its our job to make certain he doesn’t succeed in doing that," Paul concluded, watching with concern as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Resting a reassuring hand on her knee, he added softly, "Better buckle up as we’ll be landing soon. From there it is an hours drive to the farm and then you can get some sleep," As she nodded her head once more, he stood up to go and prepare for landing.

The descent left Monica feeling light headed and though exhausted, the little angel was relieved to find herself on solid ground once more, though upon landing, she was whisked immediately into a waiting vehicle. The clock in the dashboard told her it was 3:30 in the morning, so she tried to blame her rapidly fraying nerves on that fact.

The moment of facing Douglas McArthur seemed like it had been days ago, and each mile that the car traveled seemed to take her further away from Tess and Andrew. Thoughts of Heather and Missy tormented her, as she remained silent for the ride, wondering and hoping that they were holding their own. The worst part of the whole thing for her was still the fact that she had been sitting on the front porch when Josh had been murdered and though she knew that berating herself for not going into the house sooner would change not a thing, she couldn’t seem to shake it from her mind.

Monica had given up trying to view the countryside through the darkness as all she now knew was that she couldn’t see anymore signs of civilization; no lights, no houses, and not so much as another car on the narrow road, and a moment later, Paul was turning the car onto a long dirt road, where they traveled for the better part of what had to be two miles.

When the car finally stopped, the weary angel felt as if she almost had to drag herself from the car and she shot Paul a grateful look when he grabbed her suitcase from the trunk and led her up the walk in the darkness. She could see lights on inside, though the outside was completely dark and the large farmhouse was well hidden and far from the road.

Hearing the front door open, Monica only looked up in exhaustion when she heard Paul again talking to her.

"Monica, I’d like you to meet my partner, Andrew."

The flood of emotions that washed over her was like the first perfect ray of sunlight breaking free after a storm. Her heart felt so full with the knowledge of God’s love, the evidence of which was standing right in front of her. It was all she could do not to run into his arms, but she knew that according to Paul, this was the first time they had ever met.

"It’s very nice to meet you," were the words she settled on as she held out her hand, and at that moment, his hand closing gently around hers was almost as good as the embrace she longed for.

"Nice to meet you too, Monica," his green eyes met hers, transmitting a wealth of unsaid words. "I promise we’ll take good care of you here," he assured her.

Monica knew she couldn’t hold his hand for a second longer without throwing her arms around him, so she forced herself to let go and take a step back. "I know you will," she replied quietly.

Paul guided her into the house with a steady hand at the small of her back. "I know you’re exhausted, so let’s get you settled so you can get some sleep," he said.

She was led down a short hall to the bedroom that was to be hers for the duration. She looked around briefly, noticing the pretty quilt on the bed, the braided rug on the wooden floor, and the flowers on the dresser. If this was where she had to stay, at least it was comfortable and homey.

"I’ll be right across the hall, and Andrew here will be in the bedroom next to you," Paul said as he set her suitcase inside the door. "One word and we’ll both come running."

Monica nodded her head, the now familiar exhaustion sapping the last of her strength. She looked once more into Andrew’s face and saw there a touching expression of concern. For his sake she attempted a little smile that fell far short of her usual cheerful appearance.

"I’ll see you both tomorrow," she said, then turned to shut the door. "Oh," she glanced back at them both, "and thank you… for what you’re doing for me," she ended softly.

After changing into her nightgown and crawling into bed, it only took minutes for the Irish angel to fall asleep. Silence fell over the house as Andrew and Paul went to bed as well, leaving only the sounds of the night to fill the void, and even those seemed oddly still, as if all of nature knew about the angelic creature who was suddenly within their midst.

Hours later a quiet figure stood over the little angel, his form casting a shadow over her bed. She looked so small, and her delicate features were set in anxiety even in sleep. He had only wanted to check and make sure that she was sleeping soundly, but almost against his will he found himself reaching out a hand to tenderly brush the hair out of her face.

Her eyes blinked open slowly, and he pulled back his hand as he watched her expression go from fear to absolute relief. "Andrew!" she whispered, and in an instant she was sitting up and wrapping her arms around him, holding on as if she never meant to let go.

"I’m so glad you’re here," She uttered, blinking back tears that longed to fall, both at having him here with her as well as for the events of the previous day.

"So am I, Angel Girl," He replied softly, hugging her tightly for a moment before pulling away to look into her tired eyes, "Are you okay?"

"Do you know what happened?" Monica whispered, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. Seeing him nod his head, she continued shakily, "I shouldn’t have stayed. If I hadn’t done that, none of this would be happening…"

"Angel, no amount of wishing in the world can undo what is done and how could you have possibly known anything of this nature would happen?" He asked gently, his eyes holding nothing but love and concern for her.

Opening her mouth to remark on her inability to change what had happened to Josh, she thought better of it, not feeling stable enough at the moment to voice what she perceived as her shortcoming in all of this. She had been there and still Josh had died and it just wasn’t settling well with her.

"What is it, Monica?" Andrew asked, not missing the pained look in her dark eyes.

"Nothing," She replied softly, lowering her eyes, lest he see too much.

Silence fell between the two friends for a moment, before he broke it by laying a hand against her cheek, "I’m glad you are all right, Angel Girl. I know that Douglas McArthur tried to hurt you and I’m just so relieved that didn’t happen. We plan on making sure he never gets another chance at it either."

A faint smile graced her face as she looked up at him once more, "Thank you," She whispered softly.

Knowing that there was something she wasn’t confiding in him, as well as knowing she had spoken not a word of whether or not she was afraid, he decided to leave those two topics alone for now. It was still early in the morning and his dearest friend still looked more than weary and Andrew knew that she would come to him when she was ready, "Why don’t you get some more rest, sweetie? I won’t be far if you need me; you know that."

"I do now," Monica replied with a sleepy smile, moving to hug him one more time, while she had the chance, reveling in the safety she always found in his arms.

Finally pulling away, the older angel waited until she had lain back down, as he gently tugged the quilt more securely around her, smiling as her eyelashes fluttered slightly before her eyes closed as she lost the battle to stay awake. Leaning down, he kissed her gently on the side of her head, "Sweet dreams, Angel."

But even as she slept relatively soundly, it was another hour before Andrew finally found the strength to leave her side. Sometimes he wondered at the feelings of protectiveness and love that one little Irish angel could evoke within him. He always ended up simply thanking the Father for those feelings and all the rest that went into their special relationship.

He was grateful that she was able to get at least some sleep, as he himself lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Suddenly every little sound was a threat and he felt his muscles tense with each one. He had promised to keep her safe, and nothing was going to prevent him from keeping that promise. Inevitably however, his human body gave in to its exhaustion and within an hour he had joined his friend in sleep.

*****

Paul was the first to wake up and he was content to keep himself busy in the kitchen while he waited for his partner and their assignment to join him. He had his coffee and his newspaper and he enjoyed the peace of early morning. It wasn't until he got to the second section of the paper that the satisfied look left his face.

One of the lead stories under the national news was the murder of Josh Kelly. He angrily turned the page, not wanting to read about something he was currently living. They had at least been barred from mentioning that there had been a witness. Obviously McArthur knew he had been seen, but the last thing they needed was a bunch of two-bit thugs out to make a name for themselves by helping him.

"Bad news?" Andrew greeted him from the doorway, having seen him taking his frustrations out on the helpless newspaper.

"Nah… about what I expected," he said with a wry smile. He cocked his head in the direction of the bedrooms. "She still asleep?"

"I didn't hear anything so I think so." Andrew had to bite his tongue to keep from saying that with the scent of coffee in the air it wouldn't be long before she woke up. He realized with a start that it was going to be a bit difficult pretending not to know the angel who was his best friend.

Paul gave a little nod and took another sip of his coffee. "Good… I'm glad she's getting some rest. Last night she looked like she was about to drop."

Andrew's eyes grew serious again. "I guess it was a lot to take in all at once."

"Yeah, it always is. Sometimes even I wonder how they get through it. Let's just hope they catch the guy soon and she can go back to her normal life."

Andrew knew that Monica's life was very rarely what a human would consider normal, but he raised his coffee cup to Paul in a mock toast to normalcy. "Here, here," he said, dryly, as his eyes momentarily drifted to the hallway in search of his friend's familiar face.

Chapter Three

Monica awoke that morning feeling disoriented as she took in her surroundings, though it didn’t take long for the memories of the previous day to come crashing back to her and made her feel like just hiding underneath the covers for the remainder of the day if not until this was all over. But she forced herself to get up and to grab a hot shower before changing into jeans and a lightweight sweater that God had provided.

Drawing in a deep breath to try to steady her emotions, she opened her bedroom door and found her way to the kitchen where Andrew and Paul already were, deep in conversation, and she wondered how long her best friend had known Paul.

"Good morning," Paul greeted her, before glancing at his watch, "Yes, it still is morning," He added with a smile in her direction, "I trust you slept well."

"Pretty well considering, thank you," She replied not missing the combination of warmth and concern in Andrew’s eyes. Lowering her eyes, she headed over to the coffee pot and found an extra mug sitting next to it, which she immediately filled with liquid breakfast, not feeling all that hungry and still slightly nauseous after what had happened yesterday, "Have you two been up long?"

"Not too long," Andrew replied, trying to settle into a conversation with her that felt far from natural. He watched as she sat down and before he could stop her, she had reached for the newspaper that Paul had discarded, hating the way her face paled slightly as she looked at the page.

Paul didn’t miss her expression either as he silently berated himself for not throwing the paper away when he was finished with it. Monica’s being here was reminder enough for her of what had happened last night and she certainly didn’t need the grizzly details that the press felt the need to put into print, not after she had lived in those moments. He knew that his need to protect went beyond her physical safety into her emotional state of mind as well and that article was not going to help much.

Monica set her coffee cup on the table as her eyes took in the article about Josh’s murder, her heart aching with each word, coming from a reporter who probably hadn’t even known the man. She had never really given much thought to newspapers, but now, being faced with news she had been present for, her eyes drank in each word, her fingers clutching the paper tightly. Though she was relieved that there had been no mention of her, she wondered how long before that could happen. Reporters didn’t like to see a top story go cold and she considered the fact that it would only take one over zealous person to drudge up the fact that someone had seen Josh’s murderer. But just reading the details of Josh’s killing did little for her nerves or her acute sense of guilt.

"I’m sorry you had to see that," Paul remarked as she quietly laid the newspaper back on the table.

"Monica?" Andrew asked gently when she didn’t respond and it took everything in him to not reach for her hand.

The truth was that the article had shaken her more than she wanted to admit and she clumsily pushed her chair away from the table, "Excuse me." She said softly, before heading from the room.

She started to head back to her bedroom but stopped herself. There was really nothing to go back to. It wasn't really her room… nothing there was hers… nothing was familiar, and nothing about the whole situation was right. She reversed direction and headed out the front door.

The morning air was cooler than expected but she kept walking; down the front steps and along the path that led to the back of the house. Under ordinary circumstances she would have given thanks for such a beautiful setting. The house was surrounded by a series of rolling fields, dotted with old growth trees. The little angel continued down the path, following it to the barn at the bottom of the hill behind the house.

It was a good sized building, but not huge, and its grey clapboard siding made it seem like it had been part of the landscape forever. The heavy double doors were painted a dark shade of red, and Monica hesitated for a moment before grabbing hold of one of them. The color was so like the blood she had seen the day before, and she hated the fact that even that could trigger an unwanted memory. She gave a small pull, and the door rolled slightly along its casters, opening just enough for her slight frame to be able to slip through.

Inside it was warmer and smelled of fresh hay, wood shavings and horses. Monica was standing at one end of the wide center aisle, with a row of box stalls on either side. Sunlight filtered in through a series of skylights set in the south side of the roof and it became obvious that the barn was not as old as it appeared from the outside. The aisle was lined with thick rubber mats, and Monica's footsteps made no sound as she moved further down. The only sounds were the soft rustling and occasional nicker from within the stalls.

"Hey there," she whispered as one of the horses poked his head out over the half-door that kept him contained. She walked over to him, a sweet smile appearing on her face without her knowledge.

He bobbed his head up and down and she couldn't resist holding out her hand to let him sniff it, and then scratching the flat spot between his large brown eyes. Monica glanced down at his door and spotted a brass plate bearing the name 'BoyScout'. There were also several patches pinned to the door and she realized he was a former police horse. Looking down at the row of doors she saw that there were similar patches tacked to all of them.

"Well, Scout," she said, her voice soothing, "I guess you're enjoying a bit of retirement here, eh?" A shadow passed over her face. "I think that's a much better reason to be here than mine," she said quietly.

*****

"She isn't in her room?" Paul said, trying to keep the harshness from his voice. "This house isn't that big! Where is she?"

Andrew shook his head, at a loss as to what to say. It had been just as big a shock to him to push open her door and find an empty room. He involuntarily clenched his hands into fists as a way to contain his apprehension.

"Didn't I tell her not to go anywhere without one of us with her?" Paul asked rhetorically. "She saw what this guy's capable of, what the hell is she thinking?" his voice was growing louder, and Andrew took a step towards him.

"I don't really think she was thinking," he said evenly, meeting the agent's eyes. The last thing Monica was going to need when they found her was someone yelling at her.

Paul broke the gaze and looked down, shaking his head. "Sorry, man… You're right." He looked up, the trace of a haunted look quickly vanishing as he did so. "She's probably right outside… she couldn't have left more than five minutes ago. I'll check out front. She must have left through the front door or we'd have seen her."

"No problem. I'll take the back."

"Great. Meet back here in fifteen." Paul turned to go out the front door.

Andrew moved towards the kitchen and the back door, but spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He quickly grabbed it and hurried out of the house.

The blond angel could hear Paul calling Monica's name and he headed down the hill, scanning the area for a glint of auburn hair. He had only gone a few yards when he noticed that the barn door was partially open. Picking up his pace he headed straight for it, hoping that he would find the little angel safe inside.

He slid the door open a little more so that he could fit through, and paused inside as his eyes adjusted to the soft light. He couldn't remember when he had stopped breathing but his next breath felt like the first in quite some time.

"You forgot your jacket," he said as he walked down the aisle.

Monica's head swiveled quickly in his direction, her hand still stroking Scout's neck. She saw the anxiety drain from his face to be replaced by relief, and looked at him with remorse.

"Thank you," she said as she reached out for it.

He stopped her and held it open, waiting for her to turn around so that he could help her into it. Then, when she turned back around to face him, he pulled it snug under her chin.

"I'm sorry I made you worry. I just needed to get out… I guess I forgot about telling anyone," she said, avoiding his eyes.

"It’s ok, angel," he replied, tilting her chin up and forcing her to look at him. "What's not ok is holding everything you're feeling inside. Especially when I'm right here with you. Two ears… no waiting," he joked.

Monica felt a grin creep onto her face at his words. "I know you are, Andrew. Believe me… having you here is the only thing making this even partially bearable."

"Then tell me what's going on in that head of yours," he implored her.

She shook her head. "I don't think I'm ready to talk about it yet," she said, hating the disappointed look that flashed across her best friend's face. "It's not your fault, Andrew." She sighed. "In fact, as much as I want you here, having you with me actually makes me feel even more guilty. You should be out helping God's children, not cooped up with an angel who was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Andrew's eyes grew hard and he took hold of the smaller angel's shoulders. "You are one of God's children too, Monica," he insisted. "I am exactly where I need to be, and frankly I wouldn't have it any other way."

The Irish angel looked up at him and once again felt her emotions coming to the surface. He recognized the look in her face and pulled her into a tight hug before she could even think to protest. Feeling her relax against him, the blond angel let go of his own tension. Far too soon for either of them, he gently pulled away.

"C'mon. We need to get back up to the house. I think Paul's about to gather a search party," he said with a little grin. Monica gave a small sigh, hoping that dealing with Paul wasn't going to be like dealing with an unhappy Tess, as she resigned herself to following Andrew out of the barn. She resisted the impulse to reach for his hand, knowing at this point, she could not, which only added to her growing frustration.

As they walked in the back door, Paul's head shot up, a look of relief clearly evident on his face, though it was quickly replaced by a more stern expression, and Monica sank down into a chair at the kitchen table to prepare for the lecture.

"I'm sorry," She offered, before he could say anything, "I didn't mean to worry anyone. I just needed some air."

Exchanging a look with Andrew, though he missed the angel's guarded expression, Paul took a seat across from her, "And that is perfectly all right, Monica. You just needed to take one of us with you. I know that having a constant companion is a giant pain in the rear end, but this isn't a game-."

"I know that," She replied, her voice holding a tinge of her Irish temper.

His concern for her fueling his own anger, he replied back to her as evenly as he could, "Then act like you know that. This man could turn up anywhere, Monica, and it is you he is looking for. You're our assignment, so allow us to keep you safe!"

Angry tears burned in the corners of her brown eyes and though she struggled to stop the words, her emotions were too raw right now to control them, "Well, Josh was my assignment and he's dead, so how-." She stopped herself before she could go any further as she shakily rose to her feet, "I noticed books in the living room. Do I need to take one of you with me?"

Andrew's stomach churned as he shook his head and watched her depart. He knew that there was something eating at her other than this entire situation. His gentle friend rarely lost her temper; even in the worst of scenarios, and for her to turn so defensive so quickly was not something he would have expected.

"I guess I blew that one," Paul remarked with a weary sigh, "I'll go and talk to her."

"Maybe you should let me do that first," Andrew suggested, hoping to not raise any suspicion with Paul, "If she is upset with you, maybe I can put it into perspective for her before you talk to her and apologize." He emphasized the last word as he met his eyes with Paul's, "I don't believe for a moment she thinks this is a game, Paul, and that is where you went wrong."

He nodded his head, knowing his partner was right, "I'm sure she feels trapped and her entire life has been turned upside down in less than 24 hours. She has every reason to be upset. Go and try to speak to her, Andrew. I'll make it up to her later, once she has cooled off," He rose to his feet, regret clearly showing in his blue eyes, "I'm going to go and run a check of the grounds and will be back later."

As Andrew headed to the living room, his eyes came to rest on his friend, who was curled up on the sofa with a book in her hands, though he was certain she wasn't reading and his watchful eyes didn't miss the tear that slid down her cheek. Quietly, he approached her and took the seat beside her, as he reached up and took the book from her trembling hands, "Angel."

The single word held such meaning and such love that all her defenses came crumbling down in the time it took him to say it. Feeling his arm wrap around her small shoulders, Monica leaned into him and at last allowed the tears she had been holding in since this had all begun to come to the surface.

"Let it out, sweetheart," Andrew stated softly, as he wrapped his other arm around her as well and held her tightly as she wept softly against his chest, "This has been hard on you and I know that."

Pulling away, she wiped at her eyes as she drew in a trembling breath, trying to rein in her emotions once more, "I didn't mean to lose it like that and I do know this isn't a game. I'm the one who found Josh..."

"Angel Girl, you don't need to convince anyone of that," He replied gently, wiping at a stray tear on her face with his thumb, "Paul was just worried about you is all. He takes protecting you very seriously, just as I do."

Shame filled her dark eyes as she lowered them, "I know."

Andrew couldn't deny the fact that he was feeling frustrated with her reluctance to confide in him about what was hurting her so deeply, but he also knew he couldn't force it out of her either. Whatever it was, she was holding onto it tightly and harboring it deeply in her heart, not yet allowing herself to be reassured about it, "You know that as soon as you are ready to talk, I'm here to listen. I know that you know that, but I just want to make it abundantly clear."

Monica nodded her head sadly as she looked back up at him, "Where is Paul?"

"Out checking the grounds to make sure everything is secure. He'll be gone for awhile," Andrew explained, as relief sprang into her eyes.

Moving to lean into him once more, she whispered quietly, "Then it's okay for me to stay here for awhile?"

Smiling, the older angel held her tightly as he replied just as softly, "I'd be disappointed if you didn't, Angel."

Chapter Four

Paul wandered out to the barn at the end of his survey of the grounds. He hadn't found or seen a single suspicious thing. That only made him feel even worse about how hard he had been on Monica. He had let his old baggage interfere with his reaction to her brief disappearance and it wasn't something he was proud of doing.

The horses had already been cared for by two well-trusted hired hands, but he wandered down the aisle anyway, checking to see who was still inside. He had told them to leave a few of the calmest ones inside in case Monica wanted to ride. Of course he didn't think she would really be in the mood to join him for a ride after the way he'd spoken to her.

He stopped by Scout's stall and the big animal quickly thrust his head out and began snuffling around his pockets. "Hey, big guy!" one eyebrow rose as he grinned at the horse. "I hope you weren't this fresh with Monica!"

Scout merely looked at him for a second before moving on to the next pocket. "Fine, fine, here you go," he said as he pulled out a mint. "But that's all you're getting from me," he continued as Scout eagerly licked the candy from the palm of his hand.

Being in the barn made everything seem so simple, but Paul knew that as soon as he stepped outside all of the real life complications would have to be dealt with. He sighed and gave Scout another pat.

"Maybe I'll see you later, big guy," he said. "Right now I've got an apology to give."

He pushed his hands into his pockets as he strode out of the barn and walked quickly up the hill to the house. Once he had his mind made up about something he didn't like to waste time. He looked up at the house, trying to think of the right words, and then gave up and trusted that they would come to him when he saw her.

It didn't take him long to find her once he got inside. She was still in the living room, a book in her hands. He noticed that she only appeared to be on the first page. Andrew was sitting in a chair across from her, and he and Paul shared a glance.

"Ummm…" Paul started, but Andrew interrupted.

"I think I'll go grab another cup of coffee," he said as he rose, shooting a quick but tender look to Monica as he left the room.

Paul glanced over his shoulder after his partner, not sure if he was sorry to see him go or not. He moved in front of the sofa where Monica was sitting, her legs stretched out across the cushions. She made no move to swing them down as she peered up at him, so he perched on the coffee table. Recognizing the look of apprehension in her eyes he gave another sigh.

"Monica," he began, forcing himself to meet her gaze. "I just wanted to say… well, to apologize for earlier. I was out of line."

The little angel's look immediately softened, noticing the way Paul nervously tapped his fingers on his knees, and hearing the true regret. "You were right… I shouldn't have gone out alone."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have said the things I did. I know you don't think this is a game. I overreacted when I saw you were gone, and then I took out my frustration on you. Can we just have a 'do over'?"

A smile spread across Monica's face and the look in her eye turned playful. "Deal," she said as she held out her hand.

Paul chuckled and gave it a firm shake. "Deal. Now, let's see what my partner is up to."

Allowing him to pull her to her feet, she abandoned the book she hadn’t been reading and followed him out to the kitchen, where she saw Andrew raise his eyebrows curiously, though his expression immediately relaxed at seeing much more peaceful expressions on their faces.

"I can safely assume that a truce has been negotiated?" Andrew asked, with a twinkle in his green eyes.

"Something like that," Monica chided with a small smile in his direction, as she tried to make the best of this situation, and pushed aside what was troubling her.

Paul regarded her silently for a moment before laying a hand on her shoulder, "How about a walk? You had wanted some air and my concern cut that short for you," Seeing her nod her head eagerly, he turned to Andrew, "Care to join us?"

"Sure," He agreed, not really wanting his dearest friend out of his sight unless he knew she was in the house. Moving to help Monica into her jacket once more, he then grabbed his own jacket, noting how his friend grabbed two apples from the counter, one she took a bite of and the other she stuffed into her pocket. He smiled, feeling more relieved that her appetite seemed to be returning, as he followed them both out the door.

"You know, Monica," Paul began softly, "If there is anything you need, we can get it for you. Books, needlework, whatever you are into; I can arrange to get anything sent here to help keep you occupied. Just say the word."

She smiled in his direction as they walked leisurely down to the barn, "If I think of anything, I’ll be sure to let you know, but for right now, I’m fine." Munching thoughtfully on her apple, she looked over at Andrew, "So how long have you two known each other?"

The older angel stifled a chuckle at her incessant curiosity coming to the surface and he took this as another good sign for the moment at least, "Not very long actually. Paul’s regular partner is out on medical leave, so I was asked to fill in last month for a case that they had been working. No sooner did that case wrap up, than this one began."

Monica nodded her head, wondering if the Father had known all along what she would witness with Josh or if He had just decided to keep Andrew where he was at the last minute when things had taken this unexpected turn.

"And it has worked out very well, if I say so myself," Paul added, shooting his partner a smile.

Andrew returned the smile as he pulled open the barn door, watching as Monica looked at him in amusement, "Well, I’m also assuming that extra apple is not for Paul or I…"

She laughed as she shook her head, before walking into the barn between he and Paul and she noticed how Paul quickly assessed the situation to make sure no one was lingering anywhere. She waited patiently with Andrew, until he nodded his head that it was all clear, before she made her way back to Scout’s stall.

"Hello again, big guy," She crooned softly to him, her hand instantly moving to stroke the gentle horse, "I brought you a treat this time as I now know where to find you."

Andrew watched mesmerized as the large animal responded to the little angel who looked so small standing in front of Scout, but the two seemed to have already developed a trust for one another as the horse nuzzled her gently, causing her to giggle.

"Do you ride, Monica?" Paul asked, watching her as well. Seeing her nod her head, her full attention on the beautiful animal, he continued, "Would you like to ride him tomorrow?"

Monica turned to face Paul, her face alight with happiness for the first time since this had all begun, "Could I?"

"Of course you can, and Andrew and I will join you. We can make a day of it."

Looking back to the horse, the Irish angel smiled happily, "What do you think, Scout?"

Nuzzling the little angel once more, Scout seemed to be in agreement.

****

The rest of the day passed smoothly and Paul did steaks on the grill for dinner, trying to make things as festive as possible under the circumstances and Monica knew he still felt badly about earlier, so she made an extra effort to try to reassure him.

He was an excellent cook, which she was sure came as a relief to Andrew as being in the kitchen was not one of the gifts she had been blessed with, which she confessed to Paul. A playful ribbing from both he and Andrew followed this admission, and she took it good-naturedly, pleased that the mood was so much lighter than that morning.

It was relatively late when Monica bid them both goodnight and went to bed, tired and in much better spirits, she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

But she awoke screaming.

Andrew threw himself out of his bed almost before the sound of Monica’s screams had time to register in his brain. He was out the door a split-second later and almost ran straight into Paul who was bolting from his own room. They burst into Monica’s room, with Andrew fumbling for the light as Paul swept his eyes around the moonlit room.

He couldn’t see anything unexpected except Monica’s pale face, eyes wide with terror and grief. The overhead light suddenly threw its harsh illumination over them all, and Monica squinted, and covered her eyes. The room was silent except for the sound of everyone breathing heavily as their hearts all slowed back to normal. Paul rubbed his hand across his eyes and sat down heavily at the foot of Monica’s bed.

"I’m sorry," she said, her sad eyes fixed on the quilt.

"Don’t worry about it," Paul said, wishing that she would look up. "Bad dream?" he asked.

He watched her auburn head move up and down slightly. "Mmmhmm," she murmured.

"Do you think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?"

She gave a little shrug, still refusing to look up. She felt extremely embarrassed to have caused such a scene. "I can try," she replied.

"Alright then," Paul stood up, and took a deep breath. "If you need anything…"

"I’ll be ok," Monica said, anxious to assure him that she wouldn’t be any more trouble than she had already been. Her eyes finally left the quilt to look in his face.

As she looked up she saw the gleam of metal in his hand, the shiny barrel of the gun he carried. Her breath caught and she looked away again. Paul knew exactly what she had noticed, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He was there to protect her, and a gun was part of that protection. Still, he hated the fact that she now looked even more uneasy.

"Come on, Andrew," he said as he turned to his partner. "Let’s leave her to sleep."

The blond angel had been standing off to the side watching Monica closely. Her expression, the nervous motion of her fingers, and the dark look in her eyes… they all caused his heart to ache. What he wanted to do was take the five steps to her bed and pull her close, but that was the one thing he couldn’t do. Instead he followed Paul out of the room. Just before he left, he looked back at the little angel who was still sitting up in her bed. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile, and then turned out the light and shut the door.

Monica tried to settle herself down, but every time she closed her eyes the nightmare replayed itself in her mind. She tried rolling over, but even the sight of the moonlight across the fields couldn’t erase the pictures in her head. She felt a sob catch in her throat as she heard her door slowly creak open, and knew instantly who it was.

Andrew closed the five steps to her bed this time in a matter of seconds and closed her up in his arms, holding her tightly as he felt her trembling against him. He ran his fingers lightly through her brilliant auburn hair, the soothing motion beginning to calm her.

"Tell me about the dream." He whispered simply, still holding the little angel up against his chest.

Monica was quiet for a moment, swallowing back her tears, "He found me."

Andrew closed his eyes tightly for a moment, the three little words saying it all for her; it was her confession of fear. Despite her angelic status, she was afraid of this man who had killed Josh, who had wanted to kill her and still did. Yes, she was an angel, but human forms were unpredictable and could still feel pain. What he didn’t know was what to tell her. Yes, McArthur could possibly find her, but the Father was always in control.

"We will keep you safe, little angel, and we have God on our side."

He fell silent once more, knowing he had to try one more time. If she would only open up to him, then perhaps it would chase her nightmares away, "Angel Girl."

"I feel guilty," Monica whispered, before the question could even be voiced, "I stayed…and I couldn’t stop it. Josh died while I was sitting on the other side of his front door. There was no…purpose to my being there."

"Monica, you didn’t know," He tried to console her, but she shook her head sadly.

"I stayed." She stated, knowing that was what it all boiled down to. What was the point in being somewhere you weren’t supposed to be if you were unable to help by being there, "Josh was a good man. He deserved better. What was the point of reconciling him to his family, only for him to die an hour later?"

"God can turn this all around, Angel Girl, and turn it into something good." Andrew replied, but his words sounded insignificant, even to him, to touch her pain.

"Perhaps. But for right now, it hurts, Andrew," She replied, her cheek still resting against his chest, as the sound of his heartbeat calmed her further.

"I know it does, angel," He soothed, resting his chin on the top of her head. She was summing this up as a failure on her part and he didn’t like that fact at all.

"I’m sorry I scared everyone," Monica whispered with a trembling sigh, still feeling horribly embarrassed.

"Hey," finally pulling away, he cupped her chin in his hand and looked into her sorrowful brown eyes, "You have no reason to apologize. You did nothing wrong, okay?" Seeing her nod her head slightly, he continued, "Why don’t you try to go back to sleep?"

Blinking back tears, she looked up into his eyes, "Will you stay…until I do?"

"I was planning on it, angel," He spoke tenderly, as she laid back down, and he moved to stroke her hair, the monotonous action causing her eyelids to grow heavy. Only when he was satisfied that she was sleeping soundly, did he head back to his own room, leaving her door open a crack and his as well, in the hopes that if she needed him, he would know the next time before she was terrified.

Chapter Five

When Monica next opened her eyes she was relieved to see sunshine pouring in across her bed. The daylight didn't actually fix anything, but it was infinitely better than the long, dark, night. The rising sun also gave her permission to get up and do something other than lie in bed with her dark memories.

Andrew's presence had allowed her to fall into a more peaceful sleep for the latter part of the night, but she still felt a deep sense of weariness that she doubted any amount of sleep would help. She knew that Paul and Andrew were probably nearly as tired as she was and was very quiet as she put on her robe and padded softly into the kitchen. Aside from Andrew and the Father she was beginning to think that coffee was her best friend. She was soon settled at the table, warm mug cupped in her hands as her eyes stared out the window into the distance.

That was where Paul found her only a few minutes later. He saw the blank look in her eyes and silently poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down next to her. She remained quiet and he glanced over at her a few times, trying to think of what to say to break the ice.

"Looks like another nice day," he finally said, giving himself a mental slap for the inane small talk that had sprung from his mouth.

Monica looked up and her expression changed as she saw him rolling his eyes at his own remark. He was trying so hard, and she wasn't giving him much to work with. "It does look nice," she said, with a tiny smile. "Good thing too… remember you promised me a ride today," the angel was determined to lighten the mood. She had already made enough mistakes for one week, and the least she could do was try not to make the situation harder than it needed to be.

Paul's face broke into a wide grin at her show of enthusiasm. "That's right, I did. Why don't you go get yourself ready and I'll see about waking up that lazy partner of mine and getting some lunch together."

Monica gave a little laugh at Paul's reference to Andrew. If he only knew that his partner had sat up comforting her long into the night. Inwardly she thanked God for allowing Andrew to be with her. She honestly didn't know how she would be able to manage if he wasn't there.

"Hey, I'm awake here," Monica and Paul both turned to see Andrew standing in the doorway, blond hair still damp from the shower.

"Oh, so you aren't such a lay-about after all," Paul joked.

"No… but I do think I am more of a night person," he replied.

Monica smiled and mouthed a quick 'thank you' that only the other angel could see.

Within half an hour they were all dressed and heading down to the barn. Paul carried a picnic lunch packed into two saddlebags and Andrew had a blanket slung over one shoulder. Monica ran ahead of them and was the first one to the barn. She was about to pull the door open when she remembered herself and let her arm drop to her side as she waited for her two protectors to catch up.

As usual, Paul was the first one in and after he gave the all clear the others joined him. Monica went straight to Scout's stall and Paul grinned.

"I take it you want to ride him?" he said, one eyebrow creeping upward.

The angel turned and produced a particularly pathetic expression, lower lip out, big brown eyes looking up through long lashes.

"Okay, okay," Paul agreed. "I think I can trust him to take good care of you."

Monica smiled happily and gave the big horse a friendly pat before placing a small kiss on the end of his velvety nose. Paul managed most of the tacking up, but Monica and Andrew kept busy tightening straps and following his instructions. Before long they were leading the horses out into the bright sunshine.

"I'll give you a leg up," Paul said as he approached Monica and Scout, leaving his own horse tied to the nearby fence.

He completely missed the look on Andrew's face that clearly said that he had expected to be the one to help her up. Monica was unaware of it as well, and she gladly let Paul boost her into the saddle as Andrew gave his head a shake, wondering where that strange feeling had come from.

The blond angel put it to the back of his mind as he watched Monica’s face break out into a smile that warmed him like the sun, as she finally found herself astride the horse and she reached down to stroke Scout’s neck lovingly. He and Paul mounted their own steeds, before the threesome set off at a leisurely pace.

They rode in silence for awhile, before Monica turned her eyes to Paul once more, her eyes a combination of hinting and hope, "Paul, I think Scout would like to pick up the pace a wee bit. Do you suppose that would be all right?"

Paul’s lips twitched in a smile as he looked over at Andrew as the partners surveyed the area, which was really nothing more than a huge open field, though there were woods off in the distance, "Stay clear of the woods, but otherwise, have fun."

Grinning from ear to ear, the little angel urged Scout on until he was at a fast gallop, loving the feeling of the cool, crisp air against her face, as her long auburn hair trailed behind her as she crouch lower in the saddle. The speed, combined with the air and the open field made her feel free and the sheer power of the horse’s body beneath her own left her in awe as well as made her feel as if she were one with him.

Andrew and Paul watched her ride off in the distance and the agent shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips, "She’s something else." He remarked with a chuckle.

"Yes, she is," Andrew replied, trying to keep the deep affection that he had for the little Irish angel from his voice.

"Hard to believe that there is someone out there who wants to hurt her, though I’m not about to let that happen," His eyes held a steely resolve as he spoke those words.

Andrew turned his eyes to Paul, feeling a bit unsettled for some reason, yet not being able to put his finger on why, "I think we need to catch up a little bit. She’s getting rather far ahead of us."

"Yeah, you’re right," Paul replied, pulling himself from his thoughts as he and Andrew both urged their horses forward.

After a few minutes of hard riding, Monica slowed Scout to a canter, completely having enjoyed the brisk ride, as her hand moved from the reins to pat the horse’s neck affectionately. But just as she did, a rabbit skirted across Scout’s path, the frightened animal suddenly finding itself in the path of the large horse.

The rabbit startled Scout as well as the horse reared up, just enough to catch the angel off guard, with only one hand on the reins as she felt herself falling. Thinking clearly enough to release the reins as to not pull Scout back as well, she hit the ground hard, coming down on her backside and her elbows as she tried to break the fall as best she could.

Wanting to get right up and soothe the spooked horse, she found the fall had knocked the wind out of her, so she remained where she was, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs, as she heard the sound of horses quickly coming up behind her.

Andrew saw what was happening a split second before Paul did and he let out a shout as he leaned forward and kicked his horse into a gallop. His eyes never left his best friend, and when he saw her struggling and failing to rise he felt his stomach twist. He laid his body low along his horse’s neck, urging him ever faster. The young agent was right behind him, and by the time they reached her they had pulled even with each other.

"Monica!" Paul cried out as he leapt from his horse even before they came to a complete halt.

A small squeak, followed by coughing was the only reply from the angel, and Andrew jumped down and ran to her side in an instant.

"Breathe, honey… just breathe," he whispered, almost beyond caring if Paul got suspicious at his words. He was afraid to move her, but her small body was still struggling just to draw in air and he was beginning to feel desperate.

Paul rushed to her other side and looked over at Andrew. "This isn’t working…"

Finally Monica was able to get enough air to speak. "Just get me up," she gasped as she tried to push herself into a sitting position.

"I don’t think…" Andrew began, but then Paul was wrapping his arm around Monica’s shoulders and trying to help her up. He let out a small sigh of frustration and carefully slid his arm behind her back, to support her.

"Is that better?" Paul asked, looking into Monica’s face and seeing that the color seemed to be returning.

She nodded and took a few more breaths before trying to speak again. A few tears escaped from her eyes, almost as much from the temporary lack of oxygen as from the pain.

Andrew’s green eyes were filled with concern and he surreptitiously took hold of her hand and gave it a tiny squeeze. "It’s ok. Take your time," he said.

Monica nodded again, and then gave her head a little shake as though to clear the stunned feeling from her mind. She let out a long breath of air and let a quirky grin play at her mouth. "That was unexpected," she said, trying to alleviate the scared looks that were pointed in her direction.

Andrew was not so easily distracted. "That was a nasty fall," he said, his eyes scanning her body, looking for any injuries.

"Yeah, it was," Paul agreed. "You just stay put and I’ll run back to the house and get the mini tractor they use around the barn."

"No, really… you don’t need to do that… I’m fine. I can ride back… in fact, I want to have that picnic we packed," she insisted, hating the fact that once again she was causing trouble.

"Monica, don’t be a martyr," Andrew said, cocking his head and meeting her eyes. "I think we’d better get you back to the house and check you over."

The Irish angel stared right back at him, more determined than ever to prevent any fuss. She quickly pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the pain in her arms, and then turned to look down at her erstwhile rescuers.

"See," she persisted, "good as new."

Paul and Andrew shared a worried glance that turned into resignation, and then the two of them rose to their feet as well. Paul gave a little whistle and the horses, who hadn’t gone far, lumbered over to them. Scout even had the audacity to nuzzle at Monica’s shoulder as if asking what she was doing down on the ground.

This time it was Andrew who stepped in quickly to boost her up, and he didn’t miss the slight look of pain that passed over her face as she settled herself into the saddle and picked up the reins. "Monica…" he said lowly, "I still think…"

Her pleading eyes stopped him mid-sentence before Paul heard anything. She just wanted to continue their ride and try to have as good a day as possible. Knowing that it was practically impossible to refuse her anything, Andrew let out a sigh and gave her leg a little pat.

"If you need to stop…" he whispered, and her eyes told him that he would be the first to know.

Though he understood her reasons, Andrew still felt concerned as he mounted his own horse once more, this time keeping a watchful eye on her as Paul took the lead. He could tell she was hurting, though she sent him a reassuring smile as she felt his eyes upon her.

Paul led them to the edge of the woods, where he dismounted and immediately did a quick check of the area. The two angels noticed that he seemed to know this land well and could probably easily tell if there were any recent disturbances and Monica found herself wondering if the farm maybe belonged to him. It was either that, or he spent quite a bit of time here protecting others in her position.

Once he nodded his head, Andrew swung down off his horse and quickly moved to help Monica down, spanning his hands around her small waist until she was safely back on solid ground. Seeing Paul tying off his horse, the blond angel touched her cheek briefly, before moving to follow Paul’s lead, gently pulling both his own mount, as well as Scout over to a tree near Paul. He then retrieved the blanket he had brought along and prepared to spread it across the ground.

"I’ve got it, Monica," He stated gently as she moved to help him, deciding that even if she wouldn’t admit to being in pain, he wasn’t going to do anything to cause her unnecessary movement at the moment.

She fidgeted as she watched Paul carrying over the saddlebags, longing to do something to help. Carefully sitting down on the blanket, she began to unpack the bags, wincing slightly from the pain in her arms, though she did her best to hide it.

"Okay, lets have a look," Paul stated, sitting down next to her and pulling a First Aide kit from one of the saddlebags.

"Paul, really, I’m fine," Monica protested, not wanting a fuss made, but seeing she was not going to get out of this graciously.

"Monica, you don’t take a spill like that and not do a little damage. I’ve taken my share of them, believe me, which is why I always ride or go anywhere for that matter, with a First Aide kit. Now, being stubborn will get you nowhere with me, little lady, so what do you say we get this over with so we can eat?" Paul raised an eyebrow at her and smiled as a blush rose to her cheeks.

Giving in, Monica allowed him to pull up the sleeves of her sweater to look at the brush burns that had happened when she had tried to break her fall, "I feel so silly for having fallen in the first place," She remarked with a sigh.

"There was nothing you could have done to prevent it, Monica," Andrew interjected, once again, not liking the fact that Paul was the one showing this attention, though he felt far from understanding why he felt this way.

"No, there wasn’t," Paul concurred, grabbing a medicated wipe to clean the wounds with, "This is about what I expected, though I’m sure you’ll be plenty stiff and sore in the morning."

Flinching at what he was doing, she tried to find some other topic of conversation, "You seem to spend a good bit of time here; at least, you seem to know your way around rather well…"

Smiling as he worked, Paul responded easily, "The farm belonged to my grandfather and he left it to me when he died. I come here when I can and occasionally bring my work home with me, such as I did in your case," He winked at her to show he was kidding, "I’ve hired a few fellows to look after things as I can be gone for long periods of time, and it gives the police department a place in which to retire their horses, so it works out well all the way around."

"It certainly is a lovely area," Monica remarked, gazing off into the distance where she could just make out the stable in the distance, "I’m sure you wish you had more time to spend here."

"Yes and no," He replied, bandaging one arm and then moving to the other one, "I love what I do for the most part. It may be stressful at times, but I really wouldn’t trade it for anything. The farm is a retreat after a long case, but then again, there are times when it is rather lonely."

Andrew listened in silence as he began to unpack the picnic Paul had fixed for them. Though everything looked wonderful, the knot in his stomach was keeping him from feeling much hunger and he wondered once more what it was he was feeling. Whatever it was, it was foreign to him, but despite the fact that he kept trying to shake it off, it seemed to resurface once more.

Once Paul had finished doctoring Monica, he moved to help Andrew, handing each of them a plate, and the conversation during lunch was light and easy. The food was delicious and Monica even noticed that Andrew was giving more to the conversation now. She had observed his silence, but assumed it had to do with worrying about her after her incident with Scout and she was relieved to see that he was beginning to relax once more.

"So Monica," Paul spoke up as they were just finishing off their meals, "I don’t recall hearing what it is you do. You mentioned Josh Kelley being your assignment and I suppose I’m just curious as to what work you were doing for him."

The angel faltered slightly, the use of the word "assignment" yesterday had been a mistake on her part, spoken in frustration. She exchanged a quick glance with Andrew, before speaking carefully, "I’m a counselor of sorts. Josh was having some family issues and I was asked to intervene to help resolve them. I had just finished up with him the other night," She concluded, not wanting to venture any further, especially not after her nightmare last night.

"So you work there, in the city?" He asked, wiping his hands on a napkin as he awaited her reply.

"It takes me many places," Monica replied, knowing she was at least speaking the truth, despite how awkward it seemed, "I go where the need lies."

"That sounds very rewarding, " he said thoughtfully. "I trust that your boss will understand about this unintended leave of absence." He immediately regretted his words. The tone almost made light of things and he didn't think she was in the right frame of mind to be making jokes just yet

Monica didn't seem upset though as she tilted her head a bit and replied, "Oh, He's very understanding." Her eyes held a little spark that only Andrew noticed and he lowered his head to hide the smile on his face.

He missed the fact that her eyes quickly dimmed as a troubling thought pricked the back of her mind. She hadn't actually spoken to the Father since witnessing Josh's murder. It wasn't that she was afraid that He would be angry with her. He was never angry, only disappointed, and she had been disappointed enough at herself.

Chapter Six

By the time they began packing up their things, Monica could feel that her muscles had already started to tighten up. She bit her lip to keep from releasing a little cry of pain. Unfortunately both Paul and Andrew saw her flinch and dropped what they were doing to move to her side.

"That's it," Paul declared, "I'm going to go get the tractor."

Monica tried putting on her best pout, but he just narrowed his eyes at her and crossed his arms across his chest. She gave up with a dejected sigh.

"Ok, you win," she finally relented.

Paul gave a quick nod. "That's more like it." Scout had stayed very close to Monica while they ate, and now Paul grabbed hold of his reins and swung himself into the saddle. "You sit tight," he said as he pointed at the Irish angel. "And you," he pointed at Andrew, "make sure she sits tight."

Monica's pout returned as Andrew laughed. Paul just smirked at the two of them before swinging Scout around and spurring him on across the fields. That left Andrew to turn to his best friend, unaccountably pleased to be able to spend just a few unguarded minutes with her.

"You should have said something earlier, angel," he said as he gently took hold of her hand.

"Really, Andrew, it wasn't that bad when I was just sitting. I'm sure I could have ridden back to the house without a problem," she insisted.

He looked down at her and stared into her dark eyes until she finally broke his gaze. "Ok," she admitted, "I'm a wee bit sore."

Giving her hand a little squeeze he tried to transfer some of his strength to her. "I'm sorry, Monica… I wish I could say it'll feel better tomorrow, but I'm afraid Paul's right about you being even more sore after lying in one place all night." He glanced down at her and saw that this time the pathetic look on her face was not an act. "I don't suppose that a hug would help?" he asked, eyebrows raised in question.

She hastily nodded her head and he had his arms around her an instant later.

"It's ok, sweetie," he murmured, into her auburn hair, a little surprised by the way her shoulders trembled and by how tightly she held on to him.

"It was such a stupid accident," she whispered against his chest. "So stupid. Why do these things keep happening to me?"

"Shhh… You're right. It was an accident, and accidents happen. It had nothing to do with you. None of this is happening because of something you did. Do you hear me?"

He felt her nodding her head and held her just a fraction tighter, afraid to hurt her, but needing her to know how much he loved her at that moment.

The remainder of the day past quietly once they had returned to the farmhouse and Monica found herself moving slower and slower as her muscles reacted to the fall earlier in the day. She elected to stay in one place as much as possible so as not to raise any fuss from Andrew or Paul as she wanted as little attention focused on herself as possible. Along with the aches and pains, came a bit of bad mood that hung over her head like a dark cloud and she felt more content to just be alone with her thoughts for the moment.

Seeking her out, Andrew walked quietly into the living room, seeing her lying down on the couch, her large brown eyes staring listlessly out the window, "Angel?"

She smiled slightly in his direction as she slowly curled up her legs in order to give him room to sit down, which he did.

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly, laying a hand on her calve.

"I’m okay, Andrew, really. Just a little tired is all," Monica replied, turning her eyes back to the window.

Trying not to feel frustrated, he remained silent until she had looked over at him once more, "Want to let me in on what is really going on with you?"

The little angel sighed softly, knowing that there was very little, if anything she could hide from him, "This is just harder than I thought it would be, Andrew. It’s hard to do absolutely nothing, to not be helping anyone, to not be doing the Father’s work, but yet having to watch every single step I take lest someone is sneaking up behind me. I can’t really call this a vacation as those are not generally this stressful." A small smile played on her lips for a brief moment, before vanishing.

He appeared thoughtful for a moment, before speaking, "You never know, sweetie, there could be an assignment here yet. Not that I know anything for certain, but God does move in mysterious ways, as we both well know."

"I know," She replied, her expression pensive, "But right now, I feel like I’ve caused nothing but trouble between nightmares and falling off horses, not to mention other things, and…I don’t know, I suppose I feel a wee bit frustrated is all."

"Which is to be expected, angel. You’re expecting an awful lot of yourself here lately, this afternoon being a perfect example. You were hurting but not wanting to admit it, but you weren’t hiding it from anyone you know. Least of all, me." He shot her a knowing look and watched as a sheepish smile graced her face.

"I know. I’m just not used to anyone making so big of a fuss over me and I don’t always find it comfortable. It’s different when it is you, as I know you’re going to fuss over me regardless," Her grin widened as she observed a slight blush rising to his face, "But Paul wouldn’t even be here were it not for me."

"Paul has a job to do and I hardly think he is finding it unpleasant," Andrew stated quickly; almost too quickly as he wondered where that had come from and he struggled to make his words sound better than they did at the moment, "I think as far as work goes, he enjoys your company, so I don’t think he is finding this all too terribly taxing."

He didn’t miss the puzzled look that crossed his friend’s face, as he realized his statement were still lacking his usual tact and he rose to his feet, "So just think about that, okay? Neither Paul nor I mind being here. You know that I want to be here and if I were anywhere else, knowing the situation you were in, it would drive me crazy," Seeing her smile slightly once more, though her dark eyes still held a hint of wonderment, he quickly changed the subject, "I’m going to make a pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?"

"Always." Monica replied with a small laugh as she grinned up at him.

"Yeah, I know, silly question," He shot back, before leaving the room and leaving the little angel to wonder what had just happened.

*****

Monica tossed and turned that night, not so much out of lack of being tired, but more out of apprehension about falling asleep and having another nightmare and there was no way she wanted a repeat of last night. She would rather lie here all night then to have to deal with Paul and Andrew’s concerned faces peering at her as she prayed for the floor to open up and swallow her.

Finally giving up, she climbed out of bed, trying to ignore the protests her body was giving to her and donned her robe, before padding softly to the kitchen and turning on the light to make another pot of coffee. Rubbing her eyes sleepily, she leaned up against the counter as she waited for the coffee maker to work its magic.

She carried her mug into the living room, hoping to find something on the bookshelves that would be distracting enough to keep herself awake. There were plenty of books, but in her current state of mind nothing was able to hold her interest for more than a page and she wound up on the sofa, surrounded by discarded novels.

Staring into her coffee she prayed that it would be enough to keep her awake. She tucked her feet up, feeling her muscles protest at the action, and grabbed one of the books, determined to give it one more try. It was actually a children’s book, "Swiss Family Robinson", and she wondered, idly, if it had once belonged to Paul. She didn’t have time to ponder it for long, however, because within two pages her eyes had slid closed. The book slipped from her hand and landed with a soft thud on the carpet, while her coffee mug remained clenched in her other hand and balanced precariously on the arm of the sofa.

The sound was hardly more than the usual house settling noise, but it was out of place enough to rouse Paul from his light sleep. Quickly grabbing his ever-present gun from his nightstand he made his way to his door. He opened it as quietly as possible and looked out into the hall, noticing immediately that Monica’s door was ajar.

He prayed that she hadn’t decided to go on another unscheduled outing, but as soon as he saw the rumpled sheets his heart dropped. Deciding not to alert his partner just yet, he moved down the hall to the kitchen. The dim florescent light over the counter was buzzing away, and he sighed with relief when he saw the half empty coffee pot.

Moving on to the living room he felt the tension drain from his body in a rush. There was his assignment, passed out from exhaustion and barely sitting upright. He knew that he should just wake her up and escort her back to her room, but for some reason the thought of waking her felt wrong.

Her face seemed even paler than after her fall, and the dark circles that were beginning to form under her eyes stood in stark contrast to her skin. Every so often her eyelids would twitch in sleep and her expression would tighten. It was something he had seen before, but this time it struck him much harder than usual.

He carefully pried the mug from her fingers and set it on the side table. Then, after tucking his gun into the waistband of his sweatpants, he swiftly lifted the little angel into his arms. He held his breath, hoping that she wouldn’t awaken, but she only muttered something he couldn’t quite make out, and allowed her head to rest against his shoulder.

Paul was almost back to her room when he heard a door opening and looked around to see his partner standing in the hall, peering at him through slightly bleary eyes. He couldn’t see how rapidly those green eyes sprang open upon seeing Monica cradled in another person’s arms.

"She’s ok," Paul whispered. "Just fell asleep in the living room. You can head back to bed. I’ve got it."

Andrew struggled to keep his mixed emotions intact as he watched Paul carry the little angel into her bedroom, before he went back into his room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He felt more than slightly unsettled once again and he waited until he heard Paul return to bed, before he stood back up and quietly walked out into the hallway.

Entering the living room, he noticed the plethora of books that were scattered on the sofa cushions, as well as a half cup of coffee on the table, and for the sudden need for something to occupy himself with, he collected the book and placed them back on the shelf. He noted the various titles as he slid them back into place, before he picked one more up off of the floor. Smiling slightly at the children’s book his best friend must have attempted last, he held it in his hands for a moment before also returning it to its proper place.

It didn’t take him long to put two and two together and know that it wasn’t lack of sleep that had kept his friend awake, but more of a reluctance to allow herself sleep, which the coffee indicated. Andrew instantly knew that she was afraid of dreaming; perhaps due to the content of the dreams themselves or else due to the fact that she didn’t want to wake up screaming once again, and it saddened his heart that the weary little angel had been trying to fight off her exhaustion, determined not to be anymore trouble. Not that she had been; her perception of herself and her actions at the moment were so far from the truth that he wondered if they were indeed coming from the same angel who spoke the truth to assignments on a regular basis. But he also knew that this whole situation was unfamiliar territory to her, suddenly finding herself the assignment, and she was obviously struggling with her new role.

Turning out the living room light, Andrew headed out to the kitchen and noticed that the coffee maker was still on, so he poured himself a cup and took a seat at the table, his thoughts in turmoil. He was desperately trying to avoid his own issues in all of this, primarily Paul.

Jealousy was not an emotion he was all that familiar with and he knew now, beyond the shadow of a doubt that was what he was dealing with. Not that he blamed Paul for any of his actions. If one little Irish angel could evoke such strong feelings of protection from another angel, certainly those same emotions could come to the surface with a human. Those big brown eyes, the delicate features of her face and that winning smile alone warmed his heart on a daily basis, so it was not too hard to understand how those things could influence Paul as well into wanting to take care of her.

But the blond angel couldn’t deny the fact that he just didn’t like it. No words could describe the feeling he had upon seeing Monica in Paul’s arms.

Taking care of her was a responsibility he had taken upon himself long ago and it was one that brought him great joy. He loved the fact that she would seek him out, both when she was hurting and when she had some bit of news or a story she wanted to share. He loved being the one she came to, more often than not, and in return, she was always there for him as well. They were both fiercely protective of each other, but Monica was the one who most often found herself in some kind of trouble that her gentle and caring heart had stumbled onto, even if it was as simple as bringing a newspaper to a finished assignment.

Sighing softly, Andrew finished his coffee and moved to turn off the coffee pot, before placing his mug into the sink. Switching off the kitchen light, he headed back down the hall to his room, but hesitated outside of Monica’s closed door.

Opening the door quietly, he entered the room and walked over to her bed, only wanting to make sure she was sleeping soundly. Her fatigued face was pensive, even in sleep, and reaching down he gently ran the backs of his fingers along her cheek, smiling tenderly when her expression relaxed at the touch. He knew how she dreaded the darkness, as it was, and he was certain that now, faced with her current situation, the blackness could feel as if it were closing in on her.

Sitting down in the chair next to her bed, Andrew’s eyes never left her face in the dark hours before the dawn, deciding that if another nightmare occurred, he would be the one to chase it away.

*****

Andrew didn’t leave her side until the first rays of light began appearing over the horizon, ushering in a new day. He had dozed off and on, but he was still exhausted. He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up, stretching his long legs. Very quietly he crept from her room and headed back to his own, thinking that she would be alright now that morning had arrived. He fell into his bed and rolled over, guessing that he had about two hours to sleep before Paul and Monica woke.

His estimate was slightly off, as Monica’s dark eyes fluttered open just a few minutes after he left her room. She looked around, slightly confused, and tried to remember going back to bed, but her last memory was of taking a sip of coffee and turning a page in "The Swiss Family Robinson". Sitting up in bed, and ignoring her protesting muscles, she twisted around until she was facing the wall that separated her room from Andrew’s. One hand moved to touch the wall as she whispered his name.

He must have carried her back to bed, she thought, and his presence was what she felt still lingering in the air. She looked at the chair next to her bed and reached out to touch it as well, knowing that he must have sat there watching her. Just having him near had kept her from having any more nightmares and she felt both relieved and guilty.

She glanced back at the wall again as she slid back under the covers. Hopefully he was getting some much needed sleep, and she was determined to stay in bed for as long as possible in order to allow him to get even more. She looked out her window and watched the sun color the streaky clouds as it rose. It was beautiful as always; a daily message from the Father that each day was a fresh start filled with possibilities.

Chapter Seven

Paul was not at all surprised when Monica didn’t emerge from her room even after the scent of coffee fairly permeated the air. He was, however, slightly amused that Andrew remained in bed as well. He chuckled to himself, deciding that their ride the day before must have tired his partner out more than he let on.

He couldn’t know that Monica had been lying in her bed, conscious but silent, for nearly three hours. Occasionally her eyes would drift closed and she would pass into that place between true sleep and wakefulness, but she always jerked awake within minutes. The Irish angel didn’t move to get out of bed until she finally heard the floor creak and knew that Andrew was up.

Snatching her robe from the foot of her bed, she wrapped it around herself and hurried to her door, opening it at the same time that Andrew’s tousled blond head appeared in his doorway. He seemed to know that she was there, and turned to give her a sleepy smile.

A slight blush rose to her cheeks as she returned it and tiptoed over to him. "Thank you for last night, Andrew," she said. "I guess I’d be even more sore this morning if you hadn’t carried me in from the sofa."

Andrew’s expression changed slightly, and although the smile didn’t entirely leave his face, it became tighter and a little more forced. "Actually, Paul’s the one who found you and brought you back to bed," he disclosed.

Monica’s brow wrinkled and she looked up at him, puzzled, both by the look on his face and what he had told her. "But, I thought… I know you were there last night… I could still feel you this morning," she insisted. "I’m sure that’s the only reason I was able to sleep without dreaming"

He felt his heart warm again at her words. "You’re right. I was there. I snuck in after Paul went back to bed."

"Oh," she replied, beginning to understand. "Well, in that case, I guess I have both of you to thank." She reached over and slipped her hand into his, giving it a tiny squeeze that would have to make do in place of the hug she wanted. "Thank you, Angel Boy," she whispered. "I’m sorry that you had to stay up with me, but I know I wouldn’t have slept through the night without you there."

Andrew felt a crooked grin reappear and held her hand a bit tighter. "You should probably take a nice long bath," he said. "It’ll help loosen up those tight muscles of yours."

She nodded in agreement. "You’re probably right. I know I only fell off a horse, but if feels more like I got hit by a truck," she joked.

Chuckling softly, Andrew turned her around and with his hands resting gently on her shoulders, he gave her a gentle push towards the bathroom, "Then go and soak. I’m sure there will be coffee waiting for you when you are finished."

He watched as she shot a grin at him over her shoulder as he smiled in return before she closed the door behind her. Her spirits seemed better today and he knew that his sleep sacrifice had been well worth the sight of her smile.

*****

"I don’t guess you are up to another ride today," Paul mused, looking at the Irish angel with a smile in his eyes.

Taking the proffered cup of coffee from his hand, Monica returned the smile, "Mentally, absolutely. Physically? I’m afraid not. Though I would still like to take a treat down to Scout and say ‘hello’."

"Of course and I’m sure the big guy would appreciate it. Grab your jacket and we’ll head on down," Paul replied, picking up his own jacket off the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

Monica turned her eyes to the hallway, looking for any sign of Andrew, but she didn’t see him and figured he would still be in the shower. Not really wanting to go without him, she also knew it may look strange to Paul if she insisted that they wait, "Should we leave Andrew a note to let him know where we are?"

He looked undecided for a moment, before he nodded his head, "Sure." Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from the countertop, he hastily scribbled a note as Monica donned her jacket, "Okay. All set?"

Still feeling a little unsure about leaving without her best friend, she nodded her head as she followed Paul out the back door, her mug of coffee still in her hands. They walked in silence for a moment, before she broke it, turning her eyes briefly to him, "Thank you for seeing me back to bed last night. That was very nice of you."

"Were you having trouble sleeping?" Paul questioned, keeping his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket as they walked.

"Well, I…I didn’t want to have another nightmare and risk waking you both up again," She explained honestly, diverting her eyes to the path which led down to the barn.

Paul stopped walking and laid a hand on her shoulder to turn her to face him, "Monica, waking us up should be the least of your worries. I’ve protected witnesses dozens of times and I’ve seen many a nightmare from them; some not as bad as yours was and some worse. But trying not to sleep for the sole purpose of not inconveniencing anyone shouldn’t even be an option for you. Are we clear on that?"

Monica blushed slightly as she nodded her head, "Crystal clear, Paul," She replied with a small grin.

He smiled in return, his hand brushing a stray piece of hair from her face, without even thinking about it, but the natural action left him feeling slightly embarrassed as he removed his hand from her shoulder and resumed walking.

The little angel’s brow furrowed for a moment, before she remembered to walk in order to keep up with him. His abruptness puzzled her but she elected to shrug it off, "So, do you ever get tired of protecting people?" She asked curiously, anxious to maintain that comfort level between them, "I mean, endangering your own life in order to help someone else can’t be something to take lightly and here you do it over and over again."

Paul shrugged his shoulders, as he smiled over at her, "No, I suppose it isn’t something to take lightly and I don’t, but it’s just what I do and I have no regrets about it for the most part. I meet a lot of interesting people, who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time," He raised his eyebrow slightly in her direction, "And I find I enjoy getting to know them and spending time with them and if at the same time, I help them by keeping them safe, then all the better."

"It’s a wonderful work ethic," Monica observed as they reached the barn and she stood and waited for him to open the door and run a quick security check. She marveled at the fact that he could be completely engaged in conversation and still always remember her safety and she was sure that was one of the things that made him such a remarkable agent.

Once he gave her the "all clear", she entered the barn and as had become her custom, headed right to Scout’s stall, grinning as the horse gave her a friendly nuzzle, before she offered him the mint she had tucked away in her pocket, "I think I’m going to miss this big guy when all this is over."

"You’re welcome to come and visit anytime you’d like, Monica," Paul assured her, his voice holding warmth.

Before she could reply, there was a rustling from around the corner and in one swift maneuver, Paul had grabbed hold of the little angel, tackling her already sore body to the ground, his hand covering her mouth, cutting off her cry of protest.

They were perfectly still for a moment and hearing that the noise had subsided, Paul whispered to her in a tone that was barely audible, "Don’t move."

The words were a direct order and ones that she didn’t plan on disobeying, though she felt herself beginning to tremble, as her brown eyes filled with frightened tears. Her first impulse was to run, but Paul had advised her to stay where she was so she forced herself to do so.

Getting up, Paul had his gun already drawn as he quietly and slowly made his way nearer to the corner in the barn. He paused for a moment, before in another swift motion, he turned the corner, the weapon in his hands leading the way, but he immediately lowered it when his eyes came to rest on the culprits of this particular scare.

His soft laugh brought a bewildered look to Monica’s face. "What is it?" she whispered, still a little shaky and a lot sore.

"C’mere, Monica and I’ll show you."

The little angel slowly pushed herself up and walked uncertainly towards the sound of Paul’s voice. She trusted him of course, but she couldn’t imagine what he wanted to show her. She rounded the corner at the end of the aisle and saw him kneeling in front of the bales of hay that were stacked there.

"Paul?" her voice was still questioning, but as soon as he moved a little to one side a bright smile appeared on her face. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, getting down on her knees beside him.

There on the floor in front of them, nestled into a mound of loose hay, were five of the most adorable kittens the angel had ever seen. Their eyes were barely open and their tiny paws were still too weak to allow them to move very far from their nest.

"They’re the sweetest wee things I’ve ever seen," Monica declared, stroking one tiny head with the tip of her finger. "I can’t believe we didn’t see them yesterday."

"Well, they don’t look more than a day old. Chances are, they weren’t even here yesterday. Their mom probably snuck in during the night."

Monica looked up, the tiniest kitten cradled next to her cheek, and spoke, "But where is their mother now? They can’t fend for themselves."

Paul glanced around, looking for any place large enough for a cat to be hiding. "She’s bound to be around somewhere. I’m sure she didn’t abandon them."

As if to prove him right, a very large and wild looking cat sprang down from the top of the hay bales and landed next to the kittens. Her eyes were slits and a low rumbling yowl emanated from her throat. Monica, who was already edgy, was startled enough that she nearly fell over backwards. Paul’s steady hand behind her back kept her upright, and she eyed the mother cat with wary, if understanding, eyes.

"It’s ok, little mother," she said calmly. "I’ll put your wee babe right back in bed. Don’t you worry at all." She very slowly lowered the kitten to the hay and was just withdrawing her hand when the cat lashed out with one paw, hissing and meowing at her. Paul’s hand shot out and came between the sharp claws and their intended target.

"Paul, are you alright?" Monica’s voice went up as the agent quickly pulled back his hand.

"Just a scratch," he replied, holding out his slightly bloody hand for her inspection. He eyed the mother cat, who was still looking at them with suspicion. "We’d better leave them alone for now. I think mom there has had about enough of us."

Monica looked at the kittens again and then stood up to follow Paul back to the main aisle. He was holding his injured hand and she turned concerned eyes to his face. "I think we’d better go back to the house and clean that up," she said.

"I told you, it’s just a scratch," Paul said, but when he looked down at Monica’s stubborn expression he knew that he might as well give up and go peacefully. "Alright. I’ll go get a band-aid," he said with a dramatic sigh.

"Good. And we’d better put some antiseptic on it too… and maybe an ointment of some kind… I know I saw some in the bathroom."

Paul rolled his eyes at the little angel’s concern, but inwardly he was smiling. If a small scratch had managed to take her mind off of her own troubles for a time, then it was a price he was more than willing to pay.

*****

When Andrew wandered into the kitchen and was met by an empty room he stopped in his tracks. He knew that Paul and Monica weren’t in their rooms. He had glanced in both of them and seen the neatly made beds. The house seemed so quiet all of a sudden and he wondered how he had missed that before. He knew that there was no reason to worry. They had obviously gone somewhere together, and he was absolutely certain that Paul wouldn’t let anything happen to his Angel Girl. On the other hand, that thought alone… of Paul being Monica’s protector, was enough to set him on edge although he tried to squelch the feeling.

He was about to head back to his room when he spotted the note on the kitchen table. Not even bothering to grab his jacket, he swung open the door and set out for the barn. He hadn’t gone very far when he saw Paul and Monica heading up the hill towards him, and even at a distance he could see the slightly troubled look on the Irish angel’s face. Years of getting to know that face allowed him to see the most subtle changes of expression. Picking up his pace he soon met up with them, his caring eyes meeting Monica’s.

"There are some kittens in the barn and their mother wasn’t too pleased with me playing with them," she said, in answer to his unasked question. "She gave Paul a nasty scratch when he got between her and me."

Andrew glanced over at Paul and saw the slightly amused look on his face. It was clearly nothing serious, and the agent was instead touched by Monica’s caring nature. The blond angel felt a grin pull at his own lips. Only Monica could be so concerned about a little scratch when her own life was in danger.

Monica’s eyes narrowed in mock annoyance at both of them. "You may think it’s nothing, but it needs to be taken care of," she said, "or else don’t bother coming to me when your hand falls off," she finished, looking pointedly at the agent beside her.

He held his hands up in surrender. "Ok, ok… you win this time. I’ll let you take care of it."

Monica nodded, a smug little smile curling her lips upwards. "Good!" They moved up the path a few steps before Monica looked over her shoulder at where Andrew was still standing. "Are you coming, Andrew?"

Realizing he was still standing there, watching the interaction between his best friend and his partner with a mixture of amusement and discomfort, he smiled, "Of course."