Happy second chapter. This is pretty much more exhibition, but please don't skip it! You be lost if you do! A grand total of one person actually followed my RTB review system, but i like the other reviews too :) Anyway, thank you for all the support on this story. I wasn't sure how it'd be received...

I followed behind Andy as placidly as a puppy, but my eyes were darting around like a nervous rabbit. As we approached Special Agent Reed's door, I began to rabidly hope he was going to tell us that the job was off, we didn't need to go undercover as planned. I fiercely wanted to get out of these stupid clothes, scrub off these fake tattoos, and pop out these annoying contacts, and go inform everyone I loved I wasn't really dead. But as soon as we entered his office and I saw Special Agent Reed's face, I knew we were still going undercover as planned.

Damn.

"Detective Angell, Detective Anderson," he greeted curtly with a quick nod before diving into our introduction to going undercover. He gave us 50 page packets, and showed us a big power point on the power-players of the Russian Gang. "The one we're really trying to go after is this man," he said flipping the slide to a picture of a very ominous looking guy. He was tan enough to be Asian, but his facial features were clearly American. He had tattoos on nearly every inch of visible skin that was not covered by a white wife-beater and jean shorts that sagged to his ankles. "That, friends, is Dmitri Kaskov, but to hide his gang roots, he usually goes by Shay Walker. He's about 6"11, 230 pounds. He is 35 years old, and took over for his ailing father, Aleksandr, when he was 23. If we take him down, the gang will have no leader, and will eventually fall apart. And who knows, we may be able to figure out some kind of bargain with Dmitri that will make him give us evidence for the rest of the gang."

"What about Aleksandr? Couldn't he step up again?" Andy asked in his normal 'I'm-Here-On-Business-And-What-You-Say-Means-Nothing-To-Me-I'm-Merely-Covering-The-Bases-And-Being-Polite' tone.

"Highly unlikely," Reed answered, "He's got some disease with a really long name that causes extreme pain and eventually death. I doubt Aleksandr even has the energy to speak right now, let alone run a gang. It'll be best just to let nature take it's course with him." He paused as he looked us in the eyes. The freaky green-yellow eyes gave me the chills as always, and he said, "Are you both ready for this? You both have excellent records as cops, and no run-ins whatsoever."

Part of me wanted to scream 'No, I am not ready for this! You should find someone else!' while the other said, 'What would Don think if you were giving up the safety of a city of millions just to be with him? He wouldn't want that.' the conflicting messages paralyzed me, and I sat silently and motionlessly.

We all stood simultaneously, as if on cue. "Well, I wish you both luck. Please visit the Ballistics department to get your weaponry, then to Human Resources to see Irina. She's from Russia and will teach you the accent. Again, good luck."

As we turned away, Reed spoke up again, "Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Detective Anderson, I am so sorry about your wife. My condolences. Sabrina was a good woman, and one helluva FBI agent."

For the first time ever since I'd met him, emotion flickered across Andy's face. Deep resentment, and sadness were etched into his face. I don't think I've ever seen many people that sad, except maybe my father at my mother's funeral.

As soon as it appeared, it was gone, replaced with the cool, calm, collected Andy I knew. But now, looking deeper, I could plainly see the hurt within. It was a lot like when someone tries to hide behind a tree; You may not be able to see them right away, but once you get a glimpse, it's dead obvious they're there. "I appreciate your concern sir. Thank you."

We exited Special Agent Reed's Office, Andy taking long purposeful strides, obviously taken to avoid conversation with anyone, namely me. "Andy," I called, nearly running to keep up with his freakishly long legs. "Andy." I said, a little more adamant this time. I was jogging next to him now. I grabbed his arm, and yanked back so he was at a standstill. "Andy, what the hell?" I said, getting really up in his face. "Why didn't you tell me-"

Abruptly he started walking towards the Ballistics department door, which was now in sight. I could take someone shutting me out, but walking all over me was something I didn't take lightly. Stretching my legs as far as they'd go, I stepped directly in front of Andy, and shoved him against a wall. It wasn't a real hot and heavy thing, it was a more of a Jess-is-Pissed thing. My jaw was clenched in anger, my eyes burning. I'm sure if looks could kill, Andy would be dead now. "Look here now, Andy. I can deal with the fact that you didn't bother to tell the only person you're going to be able to trust for the next couple of years that you had a wife. But when you don't answer me, and just ignore me? I do not let anyone walk all over me. Got that, tough guy?" I punctuated each word with a tight clench of my fist, turning my knuckles white and pressing my tendons against my skin.

There was a slight look of intimidation in Andy's eye when he said, "Got it." But it quickly disappeared as soon as it had come. I began to wonder if I imagined it.

"Good. And smiling once in a while and calling me Angell or Jess once in a while wouldn't be the end of the world." I turned away before I could see or hear his response. Beyond this door, would be another step into a world of unknowns, a world of extreme danger, and a world where I couldn't have Don.

A/N: Sorry about the super short chapter. I hope I didn't write anyone too out of character. Five RTB reviews to next chapter. GRACIAS! -SB