Disclaimer: You know, at this point
Dylan and Anthony arrived shortly, and Alex came in with the "overslept" excuse. At nine sharp, Bosley answered the ringing phone.
"Good morning, angels," called Charlie.
"Good morning, Charlie," the three girls called.
"'Morning," Morgana added. Natalie shot her a nasty look.
"I'm glad to see everyone's here. In light of what we've discovered, I'll be giving you all the day off, but I encourage you all to stay in touch. Come in at nine as usual Sunday."
"Ah," Anthony began. Morgana picked up, "Ah, that's...not going to work, Charlie."
The angels looked at her in disbelief. They never questioned Charlie. "What is it, Morgana?" he asked.
"We, ah," she struggled, "We have prior obligations."
"I'll have to ask you what they are, Morgana." Anthony explained, "We go to Mass. At the convent. We haven't missed a week since Morgana was six."
"You kill for a living. And you go to church?" Natalie asked.
"And go to confession more times a month than most people do in their entire life."
"And you haven't missed a week since you were six?" Dylan asked. Morgana nodded. "It's the least I can do. The nuns were very upset when I said I wouldn't join the convent."
"They wanted you to join the convent?" Alex asked. Again Morgana nodded. "When my brother ran away from the orphanage, he was only gone a week. He brought me back with him, and the nuns raised me. They liked having me around, because I talked for him. When I turned sixteen, they all expected me to enter the novitiate. I had...other plans."
"Obviously," said Natalie quietly.
"All right," said Charlie, "Ten fifteen, and no later. Good-bye Angels, et. al. "
Out front, everyone was splitting their separate ways. Dylan was going back to her apartment, and Alex was going with her. Anthony and Morgana had some 'matters' to take care of, since he had been AWOL for three months, but he was meeting Dylan for lunch later. Taking the initiative, Bosley asked Morgana to lunch as well and was surprised when she accepted.
"Well," said Alex, "Nat, you and I can grab something later if you want."
"Sure," said a burnt-out Natalie. She would get to go home and let the dog shed on her for two and a half hours.
Natalie and Alex met at a bistro a few minutes after noon. After ordering a pear and cheese salad, Alex asked Nat, "What's with you and Morgana, anyway? I mean, it's really upsetting Dylan, I can tell."
Natalie jabbed her fork into a pecan and said, "It's really not my fault. If she would stop acting like a mordant assassin then maybe..."
"And maybe she would like you if you would stop acting like a perky schoolgirl?"
"Alex, I always act like a perky schoolgirl."
"That's what I mean. She's her. Plus, she hasn't had anyone but her brother for years. She's not the kind of person who likes people telling her how to live her life."
"Neither am I."
"No one is. Nat, she hasn't done anything to you that you haven't asked for."
"Whatever. I mean, she waltzes into the agency, leaves a cigarette burn on the rug, talks to Charlie like an equal-(Alex: In a way, she is)- and now Bosley has a thing for her."
"What do you care if Bosley likes her? She impressed me last night. I never knew that Planet Caravan was a Black Sabbath song."
"Oh, God, Alex. You're starting to sound like Bosley!"
And with a huff, Natalie picked up her purse and left. "Nat!" Alex called, but it was no good. She shook her head and stole the pecan off of Natalie's salad.
Bosley took Morgana to the Musso and Frank. Right off the bat, he ordered a glass of red wine. "You want a glass?" he asked. She shook her head.
"I don't drink," she explained, "It messes up the system."
"But you smoke," he said.
"Old habits," she shrugged.
After a moment of playing with his napkin, he worked up, "Listen, you were fantastic last night."
"Thanks," she barely spoke, "I don't sing all that often."
"You should," he said, "You could make a living that way."
She cocked an eyebrow. "Music business. It's too flashy for me."
"And this isn't?"
"It's not if you don't run around and fight crime in your underwear," she mimicked an infomercial announcer, "All while keeping your hair perfect! But wait, we also do private parties..."
Bosley was cracking up. "You know, at first glance you look really..."
"Dark? Mysterious? Distant?" she filled in.
"Yeah," he said, "But, man you're just full of surprises."
"I don't open up to people easily," she said, "I lost my family, except for Anthony, I guess you wouldn't understand..."
"I would," he said, "I lost my parents, too."
"Wow," she said, almost smiling and interested, "I would have never guessed."
"Thanks for not minding staying in for lunch," said Dylan as she pulled a bowl of chicken soup out of the microwave, "But, I really don't think I need to be out too much right now."
He nodded. "I knew I should have stabbed him that night," said Anthony.
"Hey," she said, "I've been curious. What exactly happened that night. You know, after you fell?"
He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as if calling back the memory, while in reality it was as fresh in his mind as yesterday. "When I fell," he said, "I was unconscious for a few minutes. When I woke up, O'Grady was laying beside me, but his neck was looking twisted, so I thought he was dead. The momentum when I hit caused the sword to sort of...be pushed out. I was bleeding everywhere, though. I managed to drag myself down the alley for a while. I have a friend who does operations. He's very discreet."
She nodded, then asked, "But, why not contact someone? Your sister?"
"I had to rest for three months. She's seen me broken before, but never that bad. I didn't...want her to see me the way I was."
She could understand. She never liked looking weak before. But she had one night, there in front of Seamus. She shook her head. "I promise," he said, "If he comes anywhere near you, I'll cut his nearest appendage off." She laughed, but then she turned serious. "We've dealt with the Irish mob before. But, even we've never had to tangle with the Cias before."
Anthony waved it away. "Michael Ciafatelli's father more or less owes his life and his son's to Morgana and I," he narrated.
"But will he honor it?"
He cocked his head a fraction. "Even in the underground, you know," he said, "We have a system of honor."
"What is it?" she asked.
"Oh," he said, "Sort of unspoken-"
"Professional courtesy," Morgana finished; Bosley had asked her the same thing. "Confidence goes to the one paying the most, honor to the one who earns it," the two continued with the same words, "And absolute trust to almost no one. If you take a knife from someone's back for them, if you take a bullet or save some one, they are obligated to do you a favor for the same amount of life."
Natalie burst in to Dylan's kitchen. "Nat," she said, surprised, and stood up. Natalie didn't notice Anthony. "We need to talk Dylan," she said.
"You can't keep this up," she ranted, "This can not work. I mean, that Morgana is nothing but trouble. She's a snake, Dylan. We can't trust her, I can feel it. She's haughty and conceited and an all-around bitch. I seriously don't know what her parents were smoking when they had her. But come one they were Carnies. And she's an assassin. And so is he, Dylan. I mean, do you honestly think you can trust either of them?"
A muscle was having a nasty spasm at the corner of Anthony's mouth as he stood up and cleared his throat. Dylan grimaced as Natalie turned around. "Excuse me," he said, "But can you expect me to sit here and act invisible while you insult every member of my family in turn? Going after the nuns next? My sister is as trustworthy as you, but as of now, I'm not sure how solid that is. Pardon me, Dylan, I'll be back in a few minutes, after she leaves."
His spoon clattered on the table, and he stormed out.
Natalie dusted off her hands with the look of a little girl who had just told off her little brother. "Oh, that was great, Nat," said Dylan sarcastically.
"What?" asked Natalie.
Dylan shook her head. "I can't talk right now, just...just get out, and ask him to come back in. Just..." she paused, and said, "I hope that you never wind up owing your life to either of them, for your sake."
A/N: I know what you're wondering; What about the Ciafatellis? What about Seamus? Why did Charlie have jet lag? Does Morgana like Bosley? All will be answered in time...in the mean time, keep reviewing please!