First, I just want to thank everyone for the kind reviews. At first, I wasn't sure which way to take this; I only knew I needed to get it written – but now my path seems clear. I hadn't intended to infuse so much angst, but that is the way my mind goes instinctively, so… ahh well. Why fight it, right? *grin* Also, I promise to write a longer chapter next. This chap and I battled until I came away defeated - but next time, it won't be so lucky! haha!

2.

It was midday, and the sun was blazing down on them as they stood at the edge of the driveway, watching the Petersen family engaged in silent battle. Tess stood with hands on hips, wondering how it all had gone wrong, and Gloria calculated the exact moment of fallout because she wasn't sure how else to proceed. She was comfortable with numbers and statistics. She was less comfortable with matters of the human heart…

Monica stood a little apart from the group, the wind blowing her hair across her face. She was trying to avoid Tess, a difficult feat since they were working together on a case – but it helped that Tess was more interested in trying to help Gloria find her footing.

"I don't know where I went wrong." Gloria was truly perplexed. "One moment, they were having a nice calm breakfast and the next moment, Tommy Jr. was hurling a grapefruit at his father's head. This is a nightmare, Tess."

"Not yet… but it will be…" the angels turned at the sound of Andrew's voice, and Monica stayed where she was, on the devil's strip. His appearance had caused her heart to hammer inside her chest.

"How so, angel boy?" Tess inquired, a crease formed between her eyes.

"Well… Tommy Jr. is seeking his father's approval, even though it doesn't appear that way. He's acting out – like all children do. But in Tommy's case, it may prove fatal…"

"Oh, God… Please." Gloria murmured a little prayer. "I have to do something. I have to stop him. What should I do, Tess?"

"Well, for starters, angel baby, you're going to have to go inside and talk to him. There are two wars being waged in there: the one between the father and the son and the one going on inside the boy himself."

Gloria nodded and started up the drive, determined to break through and Tess threw a backwards glance at Monica, hesitating briefly, before following the younger angel. Monica didn't have the energy to wonder what Tess' look had meant. Instead she looked on as Andrew watched them go, worry etched into the handsome planes of his face. Without turning he addressed Monica.

"How are you?"

She sagged a bit against the tree she stood near. "I don't know."

He turned now and took in her delicate features. "I don't want to take you from your case…"

"I'm not helping much anyway."

"I have a little time, if you want to come with me…"

"I'd follow you anyplace. You know that."

He nodded then and reached for her hand. They stood facing one another and then they were gone…

From the picture window, Tess stood watching the devil's strip, considering what she had just seen. To the untrained eye, it just looked like two friends having an intimate chat, but Tess had known both of these angels for a long time, and she thought she saw something odd in the way they interacted. Andrew and Monica had grown closer over the past several years, but she wondered now as she watched them go, if she should be worried…

Far away from the Petersen's – or even the small town where they lived, Andrew sat across the table from Monica in a little bistro in Venice. It was rustic and cool, surrounded by brick walls built by Romans, ages ago.

It concerned him that she wouldn't look at him, even as he greeted a waiter in Italian and ordered himself a coffee and her a latte. When the young man went off to procure their drinks, he studied her beautiful face.

"Monica, look at me."

She hesitated only briefly before meeting his eyes. Her expression was unreadable. "I'm afraid, Andrew. I've never felt this way before."

"Neither have I." He reached for her hand, the contact sending a small jolt of electricity through them. She shut her eyes and pulled her hand from him.

"It feels too good. I can't stop thinking about it. When I'm with you, it's… like euphoria, Andrew." She paused. "I find that the more I have you, the more I want you – like an addiction. That can't be right."

He glanced out into the street, considering her words. "I feel the same way."

"So, what do we do about it?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, and I'm too afraid to find out." This caused her to meet his gaze. "I don't want to stop being together. I've never been happier than when I know I'm going to see you. I don't even know how I coped without you before this moment."

When their drinks arrived, Monica picked up the mug with shaking fingers and took a sip. He watched her lips meet the edge of the cup and forgot about his own drink. It didn't matter anymore.

When she placed it back on the table, she licked the foam from her lips and looked at him. Her small smile was the thing that pushed him over the edge. He reached for her hand and slid out of his seat, pulling her up with him. He dropped a few foreign bills on the table and they jogged out into the alley when he pulled her body against his and crushed his mouth against hers, causing her to whimper against him.

Her hands were driving through his hair as he pressed her against brick, her body sandwiched between him and the wall, the two of them getting lost in the shadows.

His tongue was in her mouth, and she latched onto it, suckling him passionately. When he pulled back, he looked regretful.

"Tell me to stop, Monica…" he was breathless. "… if you don't want this."

She pulled his pelvis against hers, desperate to feel him. Already her mouth was swollen from his kiss. "I don't want you to stop…"

The next instant, his hand was on her leg, trailing upward, bringing the hemline of her dress up, so that his hand was on her bare thigh. She shut her eyes, letting herself get lost in the sensation as his hand left heat wherever it traveled.

"Andr…" her voice got lost as he brought his mouth down and captured her lips, his fingers moving down below to drive her into a fury.

She arched against him and he lifted her up with his other hand, finding the perfect angle so that he could join his body with hers. She cried out when he filled her, and cried out again as he bent his head to graze her breast through the fabric of her dress.

As Monica had said, it was euphoric, the vacuum they created when they were inside each other, entangled and ignorant of the world outside. She felt a simultaneous nirvana and torment at being with him, but it was too addictive to resist. She clung to him and rode out the waves of his passion and hers, let it ripple through her, body pulsing so hard it might split in two. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and she arched her back and let herself get lost in it, lost in him.

It was amazing how they managed to not get caught in the twenty or so minutes they were there just out sight, just down the alleyway. And when they finished, it was all they could do to remain standing. He helped her dress with trembling fingers and straightened his own clothes.

He pushed her hair out of her face and she looked up at him, not telling him about the immense ache she felt, the weariness, but when they walked, he noticed she winced and reached for him, instinctively, to keep her balance.

He reached down and held her, keeping her steady. "What is it, Monica? Tell me…"

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." He touched a hand to her face and saw that she was clammy. "This isn't good for you."

She managed a small smile. "I'm willing to go through a little discomfort to be with you, Andrew. I don't want you to worry…"

"You're in pain?"

"No." she stammered. "It's not exactly pain…"

"Then what?"

She shook her head, trying to form words, but no sound would come. She couldn't keep it from him. She couldn't lie.

"I'll stop, then. I'll stay away." He said. "I don't want you hurt by this. An angel should never have to endure pain if…"

"I like the hurt, Andrew." She found herself blurting. "It makes me feel…"

"What?" his eyes met and lingered on hers. "Human?"

Somehow the feeling felt taboo – just like everything else they were experiencing. She averted her eyes, then. She recalled a fantasy she had experienced wherein she was human and she'd had a family. And even though angels didn't do a lot of sleeping, she occasionally let herself sleep in this human form just so she could dream about it, revisit that place, be that woman in the fantasy – not Monica the angel but Monica the wife and mother. Monica the human.

"I don't want you to stay away, Andrew. Please say that you won't."

He shook his head, a grave expression on his handsome features. "If being together in this way is making you feel bad, physically, then I won't do it."

The words hurt her worse than anything else she had experienced. "It's not actual pain. It's the anxiety that comes from not knowing when I'll see you again, when I'll touch you…" her eyes began to fill with water, and he held her to him, let his lips graze her brow.

"I adore you so much, Angel." He whispered against her temple.

"So, you won't stay away from me? You won't deny us this pleasure?"

He held her and caressed her hair, getting lost in the act. "We'll see…"

It was late afternoon as the sun began to go down and the Petersen's were having a quiet night together. Apparently, Tess and Gloria had managed to break through to them at least on some base level, and they were communicating.

Monica lingered outside in the flower garden kept by Mrs. Petersen. The lovely multi-colored roses gave off a magnificent fragrance that could only be created by the highest God, and Monica felt as if she were home, standing in the most beautiful garden in all of creation. Instinctively, she reached for one long stem and wasn't surprised to find she had pricked herself on a thorn. She didn't flinch because she was unaccustomed to reacting to pain. What did surprise her was the droplet of blood that flowed easily from her finger. She brought it to her mouth to stop the tickle, too stunned to do anything else. However, when she heard a familiar voice, she started.

"Oh, Miss Wings, so nice of you to join us."

Monica turned to face Tess, but kept her hand from view. If Tess saw her bleeding, she might panic. "Oh. Hello, Tess."

"Where've you been, angel girl? Did you forget that you were assigned to this case?"

Monica shrugged a shoulder. "Well, I thought that you and Gloria were handling the heavier aspects, and I was more of an observer…"

"An observer?" Tess laughed ironically. "Oh, that's a good one, Angel girl – and did you think maybe Gloria didn't need your help? Or did it ever occur to you that this case could be finished if you were a little more supportive of your colleague and offering her some better support? She could have used your advice a thousand times this past week, and you think what you were doing was more important?"

Monica shook her head. "No, ma'am." Something about Tess's reprimand made her feel very small. She lowered her eyes. "Forgive me."

"Incidentally…" Tess placed her hands on her hips. "… where have you been disappearing to these past few days without warning?"

Monica's face flushed warm then, and she found she was unable to will it away. Her ears burned with shame. "Tess, I…" she couldn't think of anything even remotely innocent that wasn't a blatant lie. "…well… Andrew…"

"Oh, this ought to be good." Tess was listening attentively.

"You see, we… well, he invited me to Venice, to a café, and…"

"And they were assisting me on a case." Both angels turned to the sound of the voice. It was Adam, standing there almost regal in his formal white. He looked ashen, however, as if he had just come from a case, and neither angel could dispute him.

"I should have known you were involved." Tess shook her head, fed up and already losing interest. "You just keep in mind that your case is here, angel girl. Not in Venice and not with Adam. Right here. You got that?"

Monica nodded, "Yes, Tess. I know, and I'm sorry."

"Mm Hmm…" she turned, patting Adam's shoulder familiarly as she went past them and into the house. When she was out of sight, Adam turned towards her.

"Thank you, Adam." She whispered.

"You owe me big time." He said. "Andrew told me you might be in hot water with Tess. Believe me, I understand how she gets."

"He didn't come himself." She said with a tinge of regret.

"Well, he couldn't exactly tear himself away just now. There was a terrible bus accident just outside Maryland… we're working on it together."

Monica exhaled, slowly, hating to think of a tragic loss of lives. "I'm so sorry…"

"Not as sorry as I am." He paused, looking off into the distance. "It was a school bus."

Now, Monica's eyes filled with water. She felt she might be sick. "Oh, Adam…"

"I have to get back. I'll give your regards to Andrew." His face was serious as he started to leave, but then he caught sight of her pricked finger and took her hand into his own so he could more closely inspect it. "This looks nasty." He met her eyes then, the intensity in his blue orbs jarring her. "I can't say I've ever seen anything like it…in an angel…"

She turned her face away because Adam seemed to look inside her soul and know just what was brewing inside her, as if she were made of glass. In another instant, he was gone…

Tbc