A/N: I just wanted to add a note the last chapter: It's not likely that
Natalie and Pete would have a pug, but I made Spike one because I have a
pug myself and I couldn't resist adding one in this story.
A/N 2: I changed the name of the orphanage because I don't remember the name of it anyway(. And the island of Santa Cruz is actually off the coast of Long Beach (around that area anyway) and I have the orphanage on an island because it goes with what will happen in the story.
Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie's Angels or its characters.
XIV
Back to the Orphanage
Dylan and Anthony
It was two days later when I heard the sound of a window breaking. I sat up and looked around me. I had been sleeping next to Anthony in my bed when the crash came.
I felt Anthony sit up and get up off the bed next to me. He ran down the stairs and I followed him closely.
Inside the living room, we found what had caused the crashing noise. A brick had been thrown through the front window.
I sighed as I sighted the noted tied to the brick, "No one can just slip a letter under the doorway," I said.
"Stay here," Anthony sighed. He had put his shoes back on so he walked over the glass to get the note from the brick. He walked back to me and handed me the note.
I opened it and my eyes widened in shock at what was written.
"What is it?" Anthony signed. I gave him the note and he read it, his eyes narrowing.
There had only been one sentence on the paper: "Go to St. Catherine's Orphanage-the one where the mute is from- on Santa Cruz Island tomorrow at 12 noon."
"I must say this is very strange," Charlie said.
It was nine and we were all in the office. I had just told everyone what the note to me and Anthony had said.
"I got a not form 'J' too," Natalie said. She handed me a piece of white paper. As I read it, she said, "It was attached to a brick. Someone threw it in through a window facing the ocean. It scared poor Spike."
"What does it say, Dylan?" Bosley asked.
"'Do not go to the Orphanage with the mute or the red-haired Angel. If you do so, the consequences will be fatal,'" I read out loud.
"I got the same note this morning to," Alex said, holding up a piece of paper. "It scared my cousins half to death."
"I don't like this," I said, biting my lower lip.
"What else can we do but follow his directions?" Alex asked. "If we go, he'll probably kill us as soon as we show up at the orphanage."
"Don't think we don't want to go and help you, Dylan," Natalie said comfortingly.
"I know," I said, smiling weakly. "And it's not like I'll be alone if anything happens. Anthony will be there."
"I guess that it is settled girls," Charlie said. "But Dylan and Anthony, I'd like you to take vests as an added precaution."
"We will, Charlie," I answered.
Anthony
The next day at eleven thirty, Dylan and Anthony were on the ferry to Santa Cruz Island, where the orphanage was located. The ferry was nearly empty; a few bicyclers were on the boat as there was a bike trail on the island.
Anthony was standing at the railing on the side of the ship, when Dylan came up behind him.
"I thought you could use a hot drink," she said, giving him a Styrofoam cup. The wind was cold and the sun was partly hidden behind some clouds.
Taking the drink, Anthony nodded his thanks and turned back to look out at the ocean.
"How long has it been since you've visited the Orphanage?" Dylan asked, leaning against the railing next to him.
"When I took Emmers' car there," he signed.
"Six months," Dylan said. Looking out at the ocean, she reached over and placed her hand on top of Anthony's.
He looked down at her hand on top of his. Then he turned his hand, palm side up, and laced his fingers with hers.
The rest of the trip to the island was passed in silence by the tow as they stood at the railing, looking out at the ocean.
Dylan
As Anthony drove my car up to the orphanage from the ferry, I tried to keep myself warm. When we had left on the ferry at San Pedro, it was a cool day, but on the island it was at least twenty degrees colder. I pulled my jacket around me more tightly and glanced over at Anthony. He didn't seem to be too troubled by the cold, even though the long jacket he was wearing was thin.
"It's so cold," I heard myself say out loud. "How can you stand it?"
"I spent ten years of my life on this island," he signed, driving with one hand. "You learned to get used to it and not to complain to the nuns."
"What would happen if you complained?" I asked.
"They would tell us how Jesus suffered through worse things than the cold," Anthony signed.
"Anthony, did you have any friends at all when you were here?" I asked.
He shook his head as a simple response.
"Then what did you do with your free time? Did you ever play?" I asked.
Again, Anthony shook his head. "I preferred to sneak down to the beach behind the orphanage," he signed.
"What did you do while you were there?" I asked.
"I would sit on the sand and read sometimes," he signed. "Or I would collect seashells and take them back to my room."
"What classes did you do good in?" I then asked. It was a stupid thing to ask, but I was anxious about what we would find at the orphanage.
Glancing over at me, Anthony signed, "I did best in my foreign language classes and my literature class."
I nodded. "I was always a bad student. The officials at my schools said I was a trouble maker."
"You are smart though," Anthony signed.
I shrugged and said, "They told me my IQ was average, but I was truant so many times, they said it didn't make any difference what my IQ was."
"They were a bunch of idiots then," he signed.
"How so?" I asked, confused.
"There are different ways to be intelligent," Anthony signed.
"Like what?" I said.
"You are and intelligent fighter, and that's an important quality," he signed. "I'm sure that that was the reason you were asked to be an Angel."
I laughed and said, "I guess you're right." Up ahead, the orphanage came into view. "I guess we'll see what 'J' has for us now," I said.
A/N 2: I changed the name of the orphanage because I don't remember the name of it anyway(. And the island of Santa Cruz is actually off the coast of Long Beach (around that area anyway) and I have the orphanage on an island because it goes with what will happen in the story.
Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie's Angels or its characters.
XIV
Back to the Orphanage
Dylan and Anthony
It was two days later when I heard the sound of a window breaking. I sat up and looked around me. I had been sleeping next to Anthony in my bed when the crash came.
I felt Anthony sit up and get up off the bed next to me. He ran down the stairs and I followed him closely.
Inside the living room, we found what had caused the crashing noise. A brick had been thrown through the front window.
I sighed as I sighted the noted tied to the brick, "No one can just slip a letter under the doorway," I said.
"Stay here," Anthony sighed. He had put his shoes back on so he walked over the glass to get the note from the brick. He walked back to me and handed me the note.
I opened it and my eyes widened in shock at what was written.
"What is it?" Anthony signed. I gave him the note and he read it, his eyes narrowing.
There had only been one sentence on the paper: "Go to St. Catherine's Orphanage-the one where the mute is from- on Santa Cruz Island tomorrow at 12 noon."
"I must say this is very strange," Charlie said.
It was nine and we were all in the office. I had just told everyone what the note to me and Anthony had said.
"I got a not form 'J' too," Natalie said. She handed me a piece of white paper. As I read it, she said, "It was attached to a brick. Someone threw it in through a window facing the ocean. It scared poor Spike."
"What does it say, Dylan?" Bosley asked.
"'Do not go to the Orphanage with the mute or the red-haired Angel. If you do so, the consequences will be fatal,'" I read out loud.
"I got the same note this morning to," Alex said, holding up a piece of paper. "It scared my cousins half to death."
"I don't like this," I said, biting my lower lip.
"What else can we do but follow his directions?" Alex asked. "If we go, he'll probably kill us as soon as we show up at the orphanage."
"Don't think we don't want to go and help you, Dylan," Natalie said comfortingly.
"I know," I said, smiling weakly. "And it's not like I'll be alone if anything happens. Anthony will be there."
"I guess that it is settled girls," Charlie said. "But Dylan and Anthony, I'd like you to take vests as an added precaution."
"We will, Charlie," I answered.
Anthony
The next day at eleven thirty, Dylan and Anthony were on the ferry to Santa Cruz Island, where the orphanage was located. The ferry was nearly empty; a few bicyclers were on the boat as there was a bike trail on the island.
Anthony was standing at the railing on the side of the ship, when Dylan came up behind him.
"I thought you could use a hot drink," she said, giving him a Styrofoam cup. The wind was cold and the sun was partly hidden behind some clouds.
Taking the drink, Anthony nodded his thanks and turned back to look out at the ocean.
"How long has it been since you've visited the Orphanage?" Dylan asked, leaning against the railing next to him.
"When I took Emmers' car there," he signed.
"Six months," Dylan said. Looking out at the ocean, she reached over and placed her hand on top of Anthony's.
He looked down at her hand on top of his. Then he turned his hand, palm side up, and laced his fingers with hers.
The rest of the trip to the island was passed in silence by the tow as they stood at the railing, looking out at the ocean.
Dylan
As Anthony drove my car up to the orphanage from the ferry, I tried to keep myself warm. When we had left on the ferry at San Pedro, it was a cool day, but on the island it was at least twenty degrees colder. I pulled my jacket around me more tightly and glanced over at Anthony. He didn't seem to be too troubled by the cold, even though the long jacket he was wearing was thin.
"It's so cold," I heard myself say out loud. "How can you stand it?"
"I spent ten years of my life on this island," he signed, driving with one hand. "You learned to get used to it and not to complain to the nuns."
"What would happen if you complained?" I asked.
"They would tell us how Jesus suffered through worse things than the cold," Anthony signed.
"Anthony, did you have any friends at all when you were here?" I asked.
He shook his head as a simple response.
"Then what did you do with your free time? Did you ever play?" I asked.
Again, Anthony shook his head. "I preferred to sneak down to the beach behind the orphanage," he signed.
"What did you do while you were there?" I asked.
"I would sit on the sand and read sometimes," he signed. "Or I would collect seashells and take them back to my room."
"What classes did you do good in?" I then asked. It was a stupid thing to ask, but I was anxious about what we would find at the orphanage.
Glancing over at me, Anthony signed, "I did best in my foreign language classes and my literature class."
I nodded. "I was always a bad student. The officials at my schools said I was a trouble maker."
"You are smart though," Anthony signed.
I shrugged and said, "They told me my IQ was average, but I was truant so many times, they said it didn't make any difference what my IQ was."
"They were a bunch of idiots then," he signed.
"How so?" I asked, confused.
"There are different ways to be intelligent," Anthony signed.
"Like what?" I said.
"You are and intelligent fighter, and that's an important quality," he signed. "I'm sure that that was the reason you were asked to be an Angel."
I laughed and said, "I guess you're right." Up ahead, the orphanage came into view. "I guess we'll see what 'J' has for us now," I said.