Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie's Angels or any Charlie's Angels merchandise.

"Do you ever feel like Ramona and Alessandro?"

"Yer one crazy duckie, I'll give you that."

"And you're my crazy lover from down under—"

"I'm Irish, luv, not Aussie."

"Whatever. You still haven't answered my question."

"Yea. Yea, I do."

Her shaking hand held a picture. A picture of her. When she had been around eighteen. Nobody really knew then. But she had been pregnant.

By Seamus.

And he was happy. And she was happy. And they thought they were gonna be a big happy family.

Until one day, around her second trimester, he got a call. It was time for him to embrace his O'Grady heritage. The blood flowing through his veins was ancient and pure, perfect.

And she was taint. Filth to his pristine bloodlines.

A bastard child she carried in her womb.

On a night, routine patrolling of the city. Or 'cruising' as they liked to refer, Ciaran called.

Ciaran, meaning dark or black. Seamus' father. A fitting name for a foreboding man. He was tall, taller than most Irish, wide and imposing. He was easily three Helen's in one.

And he scared the shit out of small little Helen Zaas.

And now, looking from the old picture, to his face seeing her through the one-way mirror, she felt a resolution for the pain he cause so long ago.

If it's a boy, what do you want to name him?

Aidan.

What's that mean?

The little fiery one.

What if it's a girl?

It won't be.

You sound so sure, why wouldn't it be?

First born children for the O'Grady's are always male.

Isn't that a little presumptuous?

No.

Okay, the next kid we have, say it's a girl, what would you name her?

Caragh Bridget.

What's—

It means strong love. Because that's what we'll need if we're to stay together long enough to have another child.

Helen remembered perfectly the night Seamus killed a man in front of her. She was exhilarated. She was disgusted at her excitement to such a disturbing and vicious act.

She didn't know that by witnessing his initiation into the O'Grady clan, that she'd signed her death warrant. And that of her child's.

Ciaran didn't take nicely to the thought of a witness. Even if unwillingly it was to be his daughter in-law. So, he did his homework. Orphaned at a small age, a tough cookie with but one weakness: a little sister named Caroline. Ciaran, ever the businessman, gave her terms on which to negotiate, she leaves his son and her sister would walk away scott free.

But Helen was just a little smarter than that. Watching the Goodfellas and the Godfather –I II and III- hadn't helped the inherent paranoia that made her look over her shoulder at every turn. She didn't even trust as her doctor gave her a routine vitamin injection.

She had stalled her meeting with the devil for as long as he permitted. And just as she thought she'd have to give in, Seamus was put on trial.

And she'd hate herself for it for the rest of her life she knew what she had to do. She had to be a witness on her trial. It was the only way she and Caroline would be free from the imposing thumb of Ciaran O'Grady. Even if he would come after her with more fury for locking his son up, she was in the protection of the U.S government, he couldn't touch her.

Or so she thought.

Seamus? Can we run away? Together?

Why would we do that when we have everything we want right here?

Ci– your father scares me.

He's a harmless old goat, love.

And for 8 years Helen, later Dylan, would live in relative peace. As promised Caroline was in deep hiding, so as never to be used against her older sister again, and Helen never heard a peep from the O'Grady clan again.

Except for one night before Charlie would contact her and ask her to be an angel.

When Seamus stood in front of the fire and threatened to kill everyone she loved she was so paralyzed with fear as a super imposed image of a taller, wider and sterner looking Seamus said the same things as she grasped her bleeding stomach.

Lost in past nightmares she barley had the strength to stand up and run. Where Helen had failed to save her unborn child, Dylan saved her friends. The only people she had left.

Now with her one true love dead and his father standing only 10 feet away, Helen felt like she could let go.

Confirming the identity of Ciaran O'Grady, the elusive and infamous head of the O'Grady Clan, Helen crumpled her own picture. It was the last shred of her past.

A tentative smile brushed her lips, because as she walked out of the maximum security prison, she wasn't Helen Zaas anymore, she was Dylan Saunders.

Romona and Alessandro were characters in a novel by Helen Hunt Jackson. People didn't want them to be together because of their different races and blah blah. I never actually read the book so I can't claim to know what it's about. Feedback is appreciated.