Chapter 11

        5 hours later...

        Night came before any of the angels knew what had happened. The hours

        flew by them so fast that by the time Andrew glanced up at the beautiful,

        silver clock hanging over the doorway, the angel sucked in his breath as

        he read the time: 9:00

        His heart beating rapidly at the thought that Monica's party was just

        about over, the Angel of Death gulped down his last bite of vanilla cake

        and wiped his mouth with a napkin, tossing the plate in a nearby trash

        can. The napkin soon following, Andrew glanced around the room, his green

        eyes searching for an auburn-haired angel in the crowd.

        Angel after angel were gathered amongst one another, several still eating

        while the rest were talking in groups. Tess and Sam stood off to the

        side, away from the others, talking with Rose while Adam was dancing with

        Celeste, both swaying to the instrumental song playing above.

        His eyes searching the crowd, Andrew finally came upon who he was looking

        for. Monica stood, her back facing the group, staring out the large

        window in the back of the ballroom. The sky had grown dark in the lovely

        California town as the Irish angel stood motionless, her eyes taking in

        the dark.

        Not wanting to startle his friend, Andrew walked quietly up behind her,

        opening his mouth.

        "Monica?"

        Her curled head looking up into his face, Andrew noticed a few tears

        shining in her dark, brown eyes. Her lovely face looked sad and tired all

        at once, yet, at the same time...ready.

        Gently laying a hand on her shoulder, Andrew gazed at her face, fighting

        back tears of his own,

        "You okay, sweetheart?"

        Turning her eyes away from her best friend's loving, green eyes, the

        younger Irish angel looked sadly down at her hands, which were clenched

        tightly together on the marble windowsill,

        "It's almost time...isn't it, Andrew?"

        Her quiet words taking him by surprise, the Angel of Death softly

        squeezed her shoulder as he sighed,

        "It is, Monica...but that's not what I came here to ask you..."

        Her eyes once again gazing up into her friend's face, Monica raised her

        thin, dark eyebrows curiously and removed her hands from the windowsill,

        not saying anything...but allowing her question to shine in her eyes. Her

        friend was always able to tell what she was thinking about...or worrying

        about...and never have to ask her why she was thinking it or questioning

        her thoughts...

        No longer able to hold back his tears, Andrew moved his hand to her back

        and gave it a gentle rub before holding his hand out to her, just like

        what he'd done for Tess hours ago.

        "One more dance? For old times sake..."

        Her emotions coming to the surface, Monica allowed her tears to streak

        her cheeks as she wordlessly took the angel's soft hand and pressed

        herself up to his own body, tightly wrapping her arms around his waist as

        they swayed slowly, right beside the window, to the continuation of the

        jazz music still playing. The song was nice and soothing...but at the

        same time caused Monica's tears to trickle onto Andrew's white shirt and

        his strong arms to only tighten around her slim shoulders.

        The next few minutes passed by very slowly for the two friends as they

        continued to hold one another through the instrumental music...each

        knowing that the time was nearer than ever for the party to end. And the

        goodbyes to begin...

        As her heart continued to pound, Monica suddenly realized that the song

        had ended and that Andrew was starting to pull back from the embrace.

        Gazing tearfully into her friend's wet, green eyes, the Irish angel drew

        in several shaky breaths as she took in the handsome, gentle face of the

        Angel of Death.

        Taking her hand tightly into his and giving it a reassuring squeeze,

        Andrew spoke up, his voice slightly trembling.

        "C'mon...let's go."

        His voice suddenly lost in his throat, Andrew slowly led his friend

        across the ballroom, the tears dripping down his face as he watched his

        fellow angels gathering up their belongings and sharing hugs with one

        another. The room had grown dimmer as he headed forward, noticing that

        the music was turned off permanently and all the chairs and tables were

        no longer visible. Gulping quietly, the angel stopped in his tracks,

        still clinging to Monica's hand, as he watched Tess heading towards them,

        both of their jackets in her hands.

        As she came face-to-face with her two charges, the older angel's tears

        trickled silently down her skin as she spoke quietly the words that she

        had anxiously been waiting to say...words that were now officially

        changing everything...

        "It's time, Babies. It's time..."