A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews for this crazy story. I'm glad it's not too confusing and I hope you stick with it and please continue to leave reviews, I love them! :)

Part of me still thought there was something wrong with my brain. I know, I had a conversation with Chris, but maybe that conversation was all in my head. Maybe I was going crazy. I fell asleep that night thinking that I was absolutely crazy and when I woke up and he was there, I thought I had gone just a little crazier, but if he had been there since I was seven, how could I really argue with myself over what I was seeing. The one thing that really got me though was the fact that now that he knew I believed he wouldn't shut up.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked me as he sat there in the chair. And when I say sat there, I don't think he really sits, he just kind of hovers. He doesn't need to sit, he's an angel, they don't need to sit.

"Do you watch me sleep?" I ask him. It's weird to think that as I'm sleeping he'll just sit there, watching me all night long. There's a fine line between guardian angel and creepy stalker ghost thing.

"I don't necessarily watch you."

"Do you like go to heaven and get your next day assignments?"

He chuckles at that and I wonder just what he can feel, if anything. He said he doesn't get lonely and I hope he doesn't because I've done a fairly good job ignoring him for the past dozen or so years, maybe more. But he laughs at things I say and he obviously feels concern because he's a guardian angel and he wants me to be safe, but what else can he feel? Does he really find me amusing or is he just putting up a pretense, acting for me so I don't get creeped out if all he does is stare at me?

"No, I don't go to heaven, we've got ways of communicating," he tells me.

"Do you feel at all?" I have to ask, it's just too big a mystery for me not to ask. "Because you just laughed at what I said, do you feel like that's humorous or do you just laugh because you know it's the appropriate response?"

"I know happy things," he tells me thoughtfully. Then he pauses for a moment. "I don't have all the understanding in the world, Stephanie. I'm an angel, I'm not God. I don't necessarily get the intricacies of why I'm here or how I was made or any of that. I don't feel things like you feel things. I don't feel everything. I don't feel sadness or remorse or guilt. I can sense them in others, but I can't feel them. The happy things, yes, I can be amused or happy."

"You know what that sounds like?"

"What?" he asks curiously. I think he's surprised to see that I may know something he doesn't.

"It sounds like you can only feel good and not evil, which makes sense, what with heaven and hell, I'm assuming there is a hell, yes?"

He nods, "There is a hell, yes."

"Is my dad going there?"

He laughs louder at that. "I don't know, that's not up for me to know. Hell is pretty much reserved for the truly evil. It's not for your everyday sinner; God is a lot more forgiving than that. It doesn't matter if you swore or lied or whatever, it's the big stuff that gets you sent down to the flames."

"Like murder?"

"Again, it's on a God-to-person basis."

"Okay, I get it, too many questions," I sigh. "Hey, do you like…watch me when I'm showering and stuff? Because that's super creepy, you know. I mean, I get that you're my angel or whatever, but I mean, I do get some privacy, right?"

"I'm not going to sit there and watch you, no, but I'm around. I can't have you falling down in the shower and hitting your head. It would defeat my purpose if I suddenly decided to be off the clock for five minutes. Leaving you alone like that, not knowing what's going on…not a good thing in my profession."

"Can you close your eyes?" I ask. "Just you know…close them."

"I'll try," he tells me and I'm a little grateful for that. I can't believe I'm talking to my guardian angel. If anyone I worked with knew about this, they'd tell my father and he'd have the men in the white van come and take me away faster than I could say World Wrestling Federation. I just have to be careful when I talk to Chris.

I go about getting ready for my day, Chris never far behind. He does follow me into the bathroom, but he does make the conscious effort to close his eyes. I've seen him in my bathroom before, but I always ignored him and figured he went away for that part. Though he closes his eyes, I get the strange feeling that he can still see me even with them closed. He doesn't tell me outright though so at least I think that my dignity is still intact.

Chris isn't old, which makes it even worse. When I was younger, he was just older, but he never looked years and years older than me. I don't want to say he's aged because I'm not sure an angel ages, per se, it just feels like his age is always kind of hovering around what mine is, but never quite there. Maybe it's a little bit of magic or religious magic or something. Right now, he looks to be in his late twenties, early thirties, there's just no way to pinpoint it. He's a good-looking angel as I guess they all are because they're angels, but it's just having this guy here watching you.

"Do you watch me having sex!" I ask him after I get dressed.

He's incapable of blushing, I've decided, because surely anyone would blush at what I just blurted out almost against my will. I'm not promiscuous, but I'm not a virgin either and if he watches me having sex, I'll be so embarrassed. I don't want to think of a guy with me while Chris sits in the corner and judges. And what about God? Oh, Chris must be looking down on me because wasn't there some passage in the Bible about not having premarital sex? So he must think me awful for breaking one of the rules.

"No, Steph, I talk with whoever your with's guardian angel," he tells me sarcastically. "It doesn't matter, I don't judge."

"But isn't it against like the law of God?"

"Again, people have a lot of misconceptions about God. He has a lot of stuff to worry about. The fact that you're having sex isn't going to really register on his God-o-meter."

"Well, okay, but that's another area where…it'd be better if you closed your eyes."

"Okay," he says, but I'm pretty confident he doesn't really care what I say and he'll go on doing what he's been doing. It's worked so far, he probably thinks, so why change a good thing? Oh well, he's the one in charge, kind of. Actually, I'm not so sure which one of us is in charge anymore. He told me to follow my gut, but now he's really here and involved and how can I not ask him for advice, he supposedly knows what's going to happen to me before it happens.

I push these thoughts away and focus on getting myself to work. I've got a lot to do today and I want to get an early start. By the time I get there, a lot of the wrestlers have already arrived. It's normal to get in early on a TV day and I'm remorseful that I wasn't there earlier. The show is actually earlier tonight, since we're on the West Coast. It starts at six so I have to work twice as fast. I think I have a scene later, which will cut into my time and I'm already biting my thumbnail as I think about it. I finally sit down and get to looking over things when the door swings open.

"Hey, Paul," I tell him.

"Hey, Steph, I just wanted to make sure we were on for tonight at 8, right after the show," he said.

I'd completely forgotten. In all the fuss over Chris and I, I'd completely forgotten I'd made a date with Paul. But it's not like Chris is stopping me or anything. He's just watching the scene. I glance over at him and he's actually stood up and he's looking at Paul and assessing him. My eyes widen a little as Chris does this, but of course, Paul can't see or feel any of this. I don't think you can feel Chris like some people claim to feel ghosts. When my hand went through him the night before, I just felt the whoosh of air from my hand passing through it, nothing cool or warm or anything. No breeze from him.

"Stephanie, you okay?" Paul asks me.

"Oh yeah, of course, I'm fine," I laugh nervously. "I'd love to go out with you tonight. Just find me after the show and we'll go and everything will be great."

I don't even know what I'm saying. "Great, you look really beautiful tonight by the way. Are you going to change for our scenes, it'd be a shame to, really, because you look gorgeous."

"Yeah, I'm going to," I say, looking down at my plain clothes. They want me a little dolled up for my part. I'm supposed to look way different now that I'm "married" to Paul than I did when I was "engaged" to Andrew. "Thanks for thinking I look beautiful," I say as an afterthought and then add one more afterthought, "is this okay for going out?"

"Yeah, you look great, I didn't want to do fancy, unless you like fancy?"

"I'm not married to it," I tell him and he laughs at me.

"Great, then I'll see you then."

"I will see you then, actually, I'll see you before that because we're working," I remind him and he nods and smiles, glad that we're working together. Yes, I can see myself falling for him so easily. He's not the best-looking of men, I know that, but he has this charm about him that I can't quite put my finger on.

"I look forward to that, I'll see you in a bit."

"You will," I tell him flirtatiously. He closes the door and Chris goes back and sits or hovers or whatever on the couch, he's there. I go back to my work.

"You like that guy?"

I look up at Chris, "I do, why? Do you not like him?"

"No opinion," Chris shrugs.

"When you have a bad person around, do you react negatively to them?" I ask.

"Yes, yes, I do. I know bad when I see it. You might not know, but I know."

"What do you see in Paul?" I wonder. Is that why Chris was so adamant about talking to me? Is Paul the one he's supposed to be protecting me against? He's the only change that's happened in recent weeks. Him asking me out was a little bit of a surprise to me, but Chris supposedly knows things before they happen. Is Paul going to lead me to harm? Is that why Chris was scrutinizing him?

"I see a guy," Chris answers, giving me nothing.

"What's his guardian angel like?" I ask, thinking maybe if I back off the subject a little I can return to it and get answers.

"I didn't get a real chance to talk to him, looked fine, looked like any other guardian angel I've met."

"Must be pretty crowded around here with angels," I say weakly. God, I want to know if Paul is the bad guy! But wouldn't Chris have spoken up, danced around or signaled me not to go out with him? If he's my guardian angel, you'd think that he would do something to inform me whether or not this was the right choice.

"I can't tell you what you want to know."

"What?"

"Your face says it all, you're wondering about Paul. I was just looking at him, I wasn't passing judgment on him or anything, I was just looking at him."

"And the verdict?" I ask. "What did you think?"

"He's big…"

"Big?"

"He's a big guy."

"Yeah, I realize that," I respond with exasperation. That's what he's going to give me? That Paul is big, something I can see with my own eyes. Chris can see the future, see my future and he tells me Paul is big?

"Good. We're on the same page."

"It's him, isn't it? It's him, he's the one that I have to watch out for, he's the one I'm going to need you for. Oh my God, what's he going to do to me? Is he going to do something to me? Chris, you have to tell me, what's he going to do to me!"

Chris is over by my side before I can even think. How the hell did he do that? Can angels just beam themselves place? He kneels next to me and though he can't touch me, I can feel his presence. "Stephanie, look at me."

I look at him and I must appear like a wreck. I bite my lip to cover for my nerves, but it must make me seem even more nervous. Chris looks at me like he's seen this scene so many times before. "You know what this reminds me of?"

"What?"

"When you were little and you couldn't sleep. You must've been around two. You'd just gotten your first real bed and it freaked you out for some reason. I think Shane told you there would be monsters under your bed or something and without the safety of your crib and its bars, you felt like you were going to get eaten. I would stay there next to you on the floor and you'd ask pathetically if there were monsters and I would tell you that if there were, I would get them and I would make sure they didn't hurt you. You'd just keep talking though, a low hushed voice and you'd be tired and by the end, you would just be mumbling something so softly it was nearly incoherent."

"And I fell asleep?"

"Every time. Until one night, you just fell asleep so my job was done for then. Of course, then Shane let you watch a scary movie and the whole process started over again."

"He was so mean to me. You should've protected me from him," I joke.

"Shane's harmless," Chris tells me and I know that already.

"So you're here to tell me no monsters are going to come and eat me?"

"I promise, Steph, no monsters are going to hurt you."