ANGEL OF THE BRONX
"Okay, you ready for this?" Jeremy's voice sounded raspy on the other end of the line, as though he were driving through a tunnel. "Yeah, " replied Anna, absently gripping the pen in her hand harder. She did a quick glance around before adding, "Shoot." On the other end, she could hear a derisive snort followed by an exasperated sigh. There was a wrinkle of paper before Jeremy cleared his throat. Anna resisted the urge to role her eyes. Tapping her pen impatiently against the walll with with one hand, she pulled the phone from her ear and tapped it gently against the pay-phone's edge. "You done?" she demanded. "You know, you could show a little more appreciation," responded Jeremy, "I mean, I risk life, limb, and permanent ear damage to break into your apartment..." "You have a key," interrupted Anna, "Now will you hurry up, I need to get back to Connor." She could hear an irritated sigh before Jeremy replied, "Okay, the redial number was 202-555-7193 ." "202...that's a Washington area code," Anna muttered, frowning as she wrote the number down. "What?" "Nothing," Anna replied, "Thanks, Jeremy." "Sure," came the reply. There was a pause and then, "Just be careful, Anna, I'd hate to see you get hurt." "Bye, Jeremy," said Anna, hanging up. Closing her eyes, Anna turned and braced herself against the wall. Taking in a deep breath, she tried to ignore the subtle pains of guilt rising in her chest. If there was one person Anna could truthfully say she gave a damn about in the entire world, it would be Jeremy. She had known him since she was sixteen, about two years before...the accident. Everyone she knew had been understanding, of course, giving her the time and space she needed. Everyone she knew made sure she was capable of taking care of herself. Out of everyone, it had been Jeremy leading the charge. Sighing, Anna pushed herself up. It wasn't that she was in love with Jeremy or anything. For her, he was the big brother she never had. At the same time though, she was almost certain his feelings for her were quite different. It had been basic puppy love at first, but when they reached the age of twenty-one, it had seemed to shift completely. Jeremy had tried even harder to spend time with her, practically to the point of pissing her off. She was almost certain that having Connor around was seriously going to send him off the deep-end. As her thoughts returned to Connor, she gazed absently at the telephone hanging from the wall. A large part of her didn't want to think about whom Connor could be contacting in Washington, let alone why. The cold grip at the bottom of her stomach fueled her suspicions. Yet, there still was a small streak of curiosity, and the feeling of dread that came with Connor's reaction as to his partner or partners. Squaring her jaw in resolution, Anna reached over to grasp the receiver. If Connor wasn't going to tell her what was going on, this would. Saints, angels, or demons be damned, she was going to get some answers. It took a moment for someone to answer. As she waited, Anna glance in the direction of Connor's room. Oddly, she felt a similar pain of guilt as she shifted the phone to her other ear. It felt almost like she was going behind his back, which in all honesty she was. The pain didn't last long as the click of someone on the line sound. "Agent Smecker," a gravely, male voice sounded. Anna froze. Agent Smecker? Connor was in contact with a glorified cop? "Who is this?" the voice demanded, sounding irritated. Anna jolted at the sound. Reacting instantly, she slammed the phone down, taking a step back. In her peripheral vision, she could see several nurse glance up at her in surprise, but she didn't care. Turning, she ran full speed towards Connor's room, skidding to a stop at the doorway. Forcefully throwing the door open, she saw Connor look up in surprise. Stalking over to the bed, she leaned till their eyes locked. "Why were you calling an FBI agent on my phone?" she demanded, clenching a handful of the sheets on Connor's bed. Instantly, Connor's expression of surprise melted. Eyes narrowing, he glared at Anna fiercely. "What's this? Ye moniterin' me calls now are ye?" he demanded back, the fury in his voice barely contained. Anna opened her mouth to respond something to the effect that they were on her own phone she would, but stopped. Taking in a deep breath, she held it and released her grip on the sheets. Standing up, she looked back down at Connor. "Look," she said, trying to keep her tone neutral but managing to speak through ground teeth, "For some faulty sense of reason I can't begin to fathom, I've been helping you on blind faith. Assuming my good charity is based solely on the fact you were injured when I found you, no one at the hospital has seemed to recognize you, or that you're partners have seemed to abandon you," she didn't fail to notice Connor stiffen, "That charity is rather quickly running out. So, you can either tell me why exactly I'm protecting you, starting with what's going on, or I'm going out that door and alert the medical staff who you really are." Finishing her piece, Anna paused, waiting for Connor's reply. The light-haired Irishman did nothing but glare back up at her, as though not sure what to say. Turning his head away from her, Connor refused to answer. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Anna stepped back. "Fine," she said, "If that's the way it's going to be." Turning, she walked to the door. It was just as her foot crossed the threshold that she heard it. A small, barely audible mumble, but she was sure it had come from Connor. Stopping, she turned. "What did you say?" she demanded. Connor refused to turn, though she saw a distinct slope in his posture. "I said, they have me brother," he replied a little more loudly.
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