CHAPTER 3

When Andrew woke the next morning Monica was still nestled against his chest sound asleep. He tightened his hold on her as he wondered what God’s plan was for all of them. Monica hadn’t officially been assigned to anyone but he knew he was expected to stick close to Paul. He hoped that she wasn’t going to be assigned to any of the girls. While it would probably help them to have her as their angel he knew it would not be good for her. It was selfish but she had come so far and he didn’t want to see her take even a tiny step back.

In the other bedroom Paul blinked his eyes wearily as he woke up. Monica may not have had any nightmares but Alex had. All through the night she had tossed and turned, her mind held by some invisible foe. She had never woken and Paul’s tender caress and soothing words had been enough to calm back to more restful sleep each time. The agent now had a new respect for all that Andrew had gone through in those horrible days when Monica had first been deprived of her sleeping pills. He was hopeful that his wife wouldn’t even remember that she bad dreams had plagued her sleep. It was bad enough that she was sure to wake up nauseous.

He lightly kissed her on the forehead and stroked her arm. It was seven-thirty and unfortunately they had to work.

"Alex. Sweetheart… time to get up."

"Too early," she muttered after a moment.

"I know."

"Don’ wanna."

Paul counted to ten and by the time he hit eleven Alex had bolted from the bed and straight for the bathroom. He shook his head sympathetically as he followed her in.

"You okay, baby?" he asked as he rubbed her back.

"Don’t talk about babies right now, Paul," her words were muffled against her forearms as she leaned against the toilet.

"Sorry, Alex. Do you need anything?" He was already wringing out a damp washcloth to lay it against the back of her neck.

"No… I think I’m good." She turned her head and looked up at him, seeing the complete love and devotion in his face. Many men claimed that they would trade places with their pregnant wives if they could, but in that instant she could see that Paul really would. "I love you," she said with a little grin.

"Even now?" he asked doubtfully.

She chuckled and he stroked his fingers through her tangled hair. "I don’t think this is the first time I’ve been on my knees and told you that."

"No," he laughed, "but I’m pretty sure those other times were more enjoyable for both of us."

Alex felt her stomach settling down and stood up to wrap her arms around Paul’s waist. "Well you’ve got a point there. Maybe we can relive one of those times tonight."

He kissed her forehead and grinned. If he wasn’t the luckiest man on earth, he wasn’t sure who was.

*****

"Well, it’ll be easy enough to bring you on to the special task force," Paul was telling Andrew as they drank coffee and finished their breakfast. "Half of the guys have already met you."

The angel had just finished telling them that he had been told to stay close to them for the duration of his assignment and that his purpose would become clear in time. It was the type of enigmatic instruction he had been given hundreds of times before, but for the agents it was a little harder to understand. They liked to have a clear-cut plan of action and sometimes it was hard to remember that when it came to angels nothing was a simple as it appeared.

"What about Monica?" Alex questioned, her eyes turning to the little angel who sat sipping coffee at the end of the table.

"I haven’t been told anything yet," Monica replied with a little shrug.

"Well maybe you aren’t meant to be involved at all," Paul said hopefully. "Maybe you’re just here as support for Andrew."

Monica’s expression told him that she didn’t believe that even though it was what she was hoping for as well. "Maybe," she said slowly, not offering anything else but feeling Andrew’s tender gaze focused on her.

"So what’s your plan for the day then? We could all meet up for lunch."

Despite the serious subject Paul let out a laugh. "Half an hour ago you didn’t want to so much as smell food and now you’re already talking about lunch. That’s my girl!"

Alex lightly backhanded him to the chest. "You hush!"

Monica smiled at their interaction. Seeing them together always made her feel happier no matter what the situation. "I think that lunch would be lovely idea."

"Good. Then twelve-thirty, FBI headquarters. We’ll leave your name down at the front door and they’ll give you a badge to come right up." The agency hadn’t always had such strict precautions but a lot of things had changed since the bombing and limited visitors was once of them.

"What will you do until then?" Andrew asked, already afraid of the answer.

"I thought I’d just go where I feel led," Monica answered.

Andrew was somewhat less than thrilled to hear that his wife basically planned to wander the streets of Washington D.C. until told otherwise. It took every bit of self-control to bite his tongue, but that was exactly what he did. He also made a mental note to have that conversation with Paul; the one about how he managed to remain sane when Alex went off on dangerous cases by herself.

Ten minutes later, and the threesome was shrugging into warm coats as the temperature forecast was in the low thirties for the remainder of the week. As Alex and Paul went to gather their files from the study, Andrew approached his wife, who had been watching silently, sadness still lingering in her dark eyes. Yes, this case was already having an affect on her and he already didn’t like the things he was seeing.

Tenderly, he touched her cheek with the back of his fingers, watching as she looked up at him, "Be careful today, please? Especially if you are going out."

"I will. I promise." Monica wrapped her arms around his waist, sighing softly as his arms folded her into his embrace. She wasn’t convinced she wanted to be involved, but a part of her hated the fact that he was leaving her behind. She just wasn’t feeling all that strong right now and was trying to hang onto whatever strength she had left.

"I love you, sweetheart," He felt emotion closing his throat and he pulled away enough to take her face into his hands and kiss her gently.

"I love you too," Her voice was quiet, but her eyes reflected the deep feeling behind her words.

"Okay, ready to go now," Paul grinned as he slung the leather briefcase over his shoulder. He noticed the way Andrew’s eyes were fixed on the little angel, and he moved to lay a quick peck on her cheek, "We’ll see you for lunch, honey."

Monica nodded as her husband gave her hand a firm squeeze before following Paul out the door and she found herself momentarily facing Alex. The understanding she saw in her friend’s eyes caused her to breathe in sharply.

"We’re going to get him, Monica," Alex stated firmly, reaching for her friend’s hand. Though their reasons for this case hitting them so hard were different, in some ways they were very much the same. Neither of them wanted anyone else robbed of their innocence by the brutal and cruel actions of some man who had no conscience. Monica understood because of what had happened to her; Alex because of the baby she was carrying.

The angel nodded and Alex pulled her into a tight hug for a moment before giving an encouraging smile and heading out the door.

*****

It was only nine-thirty and already Andrew had listened in on two briefings, getting to hear the details of all the agency knew of the man they were looking for. Yes, there were other criminals at large, but a man that preyed on children was taking priority and some of the best agents in the field had been placed on the case.

Krista Steiding had lived through the night and though her prognosis was still not good, the fact that she had survived the last twelve hours was a miracle in itself. The agency was trying to remain optimistic, the fact that they were all pulling for the little girl was etched into the face of every agent the angel had come in contact with that morning and it brought him much peace. After the violence he had seen yesterday, it was an encouraging display of the compassionate side of human nature.

"You don’t expect to actually see her out there, do you?" Paul asked, somewhat amused as he finished up an e-mail now that he finally had a minute in his office. His angelic companion had his eyes fixed on the street below and had been there for the last several minutes.

"No, I suppose not."

"How is she doing?" Paul turned around in his chair to face his friend, waiting until Andrew finally turned his back on the window.

"I don’t know," He let out a sigh and shook his head, "She’s been upset since yesterday and had a lot of trouble getting to sleep last night."

"I can understand that. Alex had nightmares off and on all night, though I don’t think she remembered them this morning," He frowned. This case was hitting them all hard, but it seemed to be the hardest mentally on their wives.

"Monica’s afraid of backtracking. She had a bad dream yesterday afternoon, about the rape and that was the first one in months, but it was enough to make her pull away. When she got into bed…" He stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked to the other side of the room, "She had trouble allowing me near her and she was even more upset about that and she honestly can’t control it. Now she is out there someplace, feeling the way she does and that leaves me here worrying about her." He sat down in the chair opposite Paul, "I guess I’m not as good at it as you are, Paul. Letting her go when I’m forced to, when our jobs call for it. I’m not coping all that well."

"Good at it, hell!" Paul replied with a slight chuckle, "I suck at it, Andrew, and it’s gotten even worse since the bombings. What I have gotten better at is keeping my mouth shut."

"Yeah. I did that this morning when I really wanted to demand that she not leave the townhouse. I don’t want to be that kind of husband to her, one who dictates what she can do when she isn’t working. But how do you draw the line between keeping them free and keeping them safe?"

The agent leaned back in his chair and eyed his friend closely before choosing his words, "I shouldn’t have to tell you this, buddy, as you and Monica are the ones who taught me about trusting God. You know that is what you have to do."

"I know and I do, but something about that changed when she was raped," He hadn’t spoken these words to anyone before. Not Monica and not God, though he knew that their Father was more than familiar with his heart, "There are times when I still dwell on the fact that God allowed her to be hurt like that. I could accept the things that David did; I hated them, but could accept them, but the rape…that had long lasting effects. She still suffers from it, it still causes her pain. I know that humans go through this kind of thing, but when an angel is forced to go through it…it just feels different," He paused, not feeling as if he was explaining himself very well, "Angels only understand so much about human nature, human pain and suffering. They have no other experiences to compare it to… nothing to build upon to help teach them coping mechanisms for when something terrible happens. Monica could barely comprehend that it happened to her, never mind trying to cope with the aftermath of it."

"But she had support and she has done very well," Paul pointed out.

"Yes, she has, but I still question why it had to happen to her at all. Yes, wonderful things came out of it, namely the fact that she is now my wife, but why wasn’t that allowed without her having to go through that kind of pain? God could have stopped it. He could have sent me to save her. She has stopped asking those questions, at least out loud, but I guess that I haven’t," Restlessly, he rose to his feet once more and returned to the window.

Paul fell silent, trying to think of what advice he could offer his friend. What Andrew was saying made sense and Paul knew were the tables turned, he would be asking himself the same questions. "Maybe…maybe the reason was to take you both to a new level of trust," he said finally, hoping that there was some truth behind his thoughts or at least something that would help. "She had to trust you with the worst thing that had ever happened to her and you came through for her in amazing ways. The fact that you gave her back her worth, that you showed her that she was still deserving of the love we all feel for her…she trusts you explicitly, Andrew. Without that, I don’t think she ever would have allowed herself to be as open about the love you two felt for each other."

Andrew gave a small nod, his eyes still focused out the window, gazing down on the hundreds of people that crowded the streets below, wondering if one small angel was among them, "Maybe…"

*****

Monica shivered, her cheeks flushed with cold as she walked through the sliding doors of Mercy Hospital. The warmer air hit her face and came as a great relief as she walked in the direction of the Information desk. Feeling something around her neck, she glanced down and saw the name tag underneath the volunteer title and though her heart was telling her that there was no assignment of yet, God knew why she had come and was giving her what she needed.

The gray haired woman’s face was kind as she turned her attention to the little female as she approached the desk, "May I help you?"

Monica nearly went back on her plans, but she heard herself speaking before she had taken time to rethink things, "I wanted to inquire on Krista Steiding. Can you tell what floor she is on?"

The woman shook her head sadly, "Poor little thing. I heard they were amazed she made it through the night, but maybe God is laying His hand upon her. She’s still in the ICU, which is up on the second floor."

"Thank you," She managed a small smile as she turned to the elevators and waited patiently, knowing she was really in no rush to get there. She wasn’t even sure of why she had come as her understanding of rape could certainly not compare to that of a little girl…or maybe the opposite was really true. Maybe an angel and a child understood things exactly the same….not very much at all.

"You’re about to miss your ride."

Monica jerked her head up, ridding her mind of her thoughts as met the eyes of the man who had spoken, "I’m sorry?"

He chuckled softly and it was only then that she realized he was holding the elevator door for her to keep it from closing. She hadn’t even realized it had arrived, "Going up?"

She gave a little nod, and felt herself bristling slightly when he followed her into the elevator. She still struggled with her comfort level when being with anyone she didn’t know or was assigned to of the male persuasion, and the flashbacks in the form of a dream yesterday had certainly not helped that situation. She moved to one end of the elevator, "Second floor, please."

He hit the button and watched her as the doors closed, unable to help but notice that she was more than a little high strung at the moment, "Worked here long?"

"No," The angel replied, glancing over at him and seeing a badge similar to her own hanging from the cord around his neck. Feeling a bit more safe, she ventured her own question, "You?"

"A few years now. Had to have something to do with my time when I retired." He smiled at her and she relaxed a little more.

"You seem a little young for retirement," Monica smiled, now feeling thankful for the diversion. He couldn’t be more than mid-forties, handsome, warm smile.

"Well, early retirement then," He chuckled, "I left the police force a few years back. Just couldn’t take it anymore. So much violence in the city. That little girl up in the ICU is a prime example."

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open and they both stepped out, "Yes. That’s why I’m here actually. I heard about what happened and I just…" Just what? The question plagued her and she struggled to continue, "I just maybe want to say a little prayer for her."

"That’s good of you…" He glanced at her name tag, "Monica. Krista could use all the prayers she can get. They’re still not sure if she’ll even pull through and sometimes I wonder what kind of life she’ll have if she does. Can’t imagine anyone ever getting over something like this happening to them."

Monica looked away briefly, a small pang of grief hitting her heart at full force, "No, I suppose not."

He watched her closely. He had noticed the way she had paled slightly and he already had an inkling as to why, and he berated himself for having said what he had, "But then again, there is little that love and God can’t heal. My name’s Shawn by the way. I’d be happy to show you to Krista’s room."

She looked up at him gratefully, "I’d appreciate that," She replied and fell into step beside of him.

"Krista lives in my neighborhood," Shawn stated after a moment before shaking his head, "I wish I had been around the morning she was taken, but I was here. When I’m not here, I’ve been trying to keep my eyes open, you know, trying to watch out for the kids."

"More volunteer work," Monica remarked and he nodded his head.

"Retired, but old habits die hard, I guess," He came to a halt in front of room 219 and peered in the door, "This is her room and it seems her parents may have gone down for a bite to eat. The Crisis Intervention folks have been trying to look out for them a bit. Times like this, you have to be reminded to eat and sleep."

The little angel nodded and drew in a deep breath, trying to summon all her courage before slipping in the door. At first, all she could see were the machines that were hooked up, the life support system, heart monitor, IV…but as she walked closer, she could see the pale face of a child who just yesterday morning had probably been overflowing with life. Now the life that remained was contingent upon a machine breathing for her.

Monica could feel her own heart pounding in her ears and her mouth went dry as she gazed down at the child’s face, seeing the bruises and her mind flashed back to Alex and Paul’s bathroom mirror the morning after her own ordeal. The vision made her wince and she nearly turned away, but something in her reached out and laid her hand over Krista’s.

Tears slipped from her eyes as she bowed her head, offering up prayers of healing for the little girl, before she simply sank weakly down into the chair next to the bed, all the while holding the little hand in her own.

Monica wasn’t even sure of how much time had elapsed but she was surprised to see Shawn waiting for her outside the room when she finally emerged. He was looking at her with concern and she lowered her eyes self-consciously, wondering briefly how much he could see. He was a trained police officer, so he had seen rape victims before, though she tried not to linger on the fact that so many months later, she might still look the part to the trained eye, "What time is it?"

"Just nearing twelve-thirty. Are you all right?"

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t realized how late it was, but she had walked the two miles to the hospital and that had taken a bit of time, "I need to go. I’m supposed to be meeting my husband and friends…they’ll be worried."

Shawn was not at all convinced she was prepared to drive anywhere. The young woman was obviously shaken, "Is your car outside?"

"No, I walked…I’ll hail a cab," Monica spoke hurriedly and had already starting walking to the elevators.

"Cabs are hard to hail this time of day," He replied gently, following her, "Monica, let me drive you. Where are you heading?"

The idea of getting into a car with him nearly stopped her heart but she forced herself to look into his face. She searched his eyes, looking for his soul. Then she clenched her hands into two tight little fists. This wasn’t right. He had spoken kindly to her and been nothing but nice, and yet she was letting her old fears take over. She was an angel. She was supposed to see the good in people, not hunt for the bad.

"I’m heading to the FBI building," she said, taking a breath, "and I would appreciate a ride very much."

"That’s fine, just fine. My car’s parked in the underground garage. When are you supposed to be meeting them?"

"Twelve thirty."

Shawn’s eyebrows rose. "Well you may be just a little bit late, but I’ll get you there."

Monica smiled thankfully as she slowly unclenched her fists. God hadn’t told her what she was doing in Washington yet, but he was giving her the help she needed when she needed it. Whatever her assignment was, it would turn out successfully. She just had to keep telling herself that and ignoring the memories that threatened to stand in her way.

*****

"Buddy, she’s only a few minutes late," Paul gave Andrew a pat on the shoulder as he approached the angel whose eyes were fixed on the elevator doors.

"A few minutes our time may as well be an hour Monica’s time," Andrew muttered. "You know that."

The angel was being completely serious and was clearly distressed so Paul struggled to contain the chuckle that rose in his chest. Yes, even a few minutes were enough for Monica to get herself into an unexpected situation, but she really was only ten minutes overdue and the lunchtime traffic was terrible as usual. She was probably just stuck in a cab two blocks away.

Alex rounded the corner from her office and spotted her husband and Andrew standing in the hallway.

"Monica’s still not here?" she asked as she approached them, and then mentally rolled her eyes. It didn’t take a professional to read their body language. The angel was anxious and Paul was relaxed but sympathetic. "I mean… of course she’s not… getting around the city is murder. There’s a million people out there…" Andrew’s worried look deepened and Paul’s turned to exasperation as he glanced at her. "Umm… I mean… not that she’s with any of them, but you know… they may be in her way…"

"Alex…" Paul’s voice was low.

"Right. Shutting up now." She moved closer to Andrew and patted his arm. "I’m sure she’ll be here any second," she said quietly.

Any second was not soon enough as far as Andrew was concerned. He hadn’t felt any outright fear from her, but his heart was still in turmoil. He tried to convince himself that the feelings were all his, but he knew better. At least some of them were coming from her. Taking a long breath he said a quick and silent prayer. Paul’s words had repeated in his mind. He needed to lay this in God’s hands. His own would never be quite large enough, but God’s were.

He looked once more at the elevator doors before turning to his two friends. "Why don’t we wait in your office, Paul. You’re right. She’s probably just caught in the crush. No reason to stand here hovering."

Paul looked surprised but relieved. "Good idea. And if she’s really stuck I’m sure she’ll call the office to let us know."

The three of them started down the hallway towards the corner office and didn’t hear the faint ding from the elevator as it stopped on their floor.

"Andrew? Paul?"

The angel turned around instantly and practically ran back to the elevator. How he stopped himself from snatching Monica into his arms was something he didn’t know.

"You’re late." They were the only words he could think of and he almost bit his tongue off when her eyes narrowed in distress. He was only trying to be neutral and avoid making a scene when what he wanted to do was hug her and break every promise he had ever made about not interfering with her angelic duties.

"Traffic bad?" Alex asked as she and Paul approached and she saw the way things were headed.

"It wasn’t too terrible," Monica answered truthfully, "but I got a late start. I guess I was a wee bit distracted."

"No harm, no foul," Paul said cheerfully. "Although next time you may want to remember that cell phone I gave you. This guys been on pins and needles for twenty minutes."

Monica looked at her husband again, expecting to see the same slightly hard expression on his face, but it had softened completely. He stepped forward and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek.

"I’m sorry, angel. I was worried about you," he whispered lowly before pulling back.

A small hand slipped into his told him that he was forgiven.

"So what had you so involved that you forgot about lunch?" Alex asked. "Lately food is at the front of my mind ninety percent of the time," she joked.

The four of them stepped into the elevator and Paul pressed the button for the lobby.

"I went to see Krista," Monica answered. "I guess it was a little harder than I expected."

Paul and Alex shared a look of worry and Andrew slipped his arm around Monica’s waist. They all knew that ‘harder than expected’ was an understatement.

Andrew wanted to ask "Why would you do that?" but he stopped himself. Though a part of him wished she hadn’t seen the little girl, the other part of him understood completely, "How is she?"

"They still don’t know if she’s going to make it," She replied softly, "It looked pretty bad."

Andrew was quiet on the walk down the street to the cafe, already preparing himself for a night full of nightmares from her. She had placed herself in emotionally dangerous ground by going to the hospital at all and understanding why still did not make him feel pleased.