Jordan sat in the small hospital chapel, too numb to pray. She stared unseeingly up at the stained glass window above the small altar, not feeling the pain where a bullet had grazed her thigh, or where her split knuckles had swollen under their gauze covering. The pain in her heart was worse, more so because she was alone with it. Jordan sat on the hard bench, too numb to pray, too dazed to cry.

A youngish man in a leather jacket came in and sat across from her, rose and emerald and topaz streaking through his blond hair where the light from the window touched it. He watched her as she sat unawares, her grief almost visible, blood staining the cheap material of her "working clothes". "Would you like me to call someone for you?" he offered, and slowly, as if being called from a great distance, Jordan MacGuire turned her head to look at him.

"No, thank you." she answered, and caught her suddenly trembling lower lip between her teeth. There was no one to call. Shelby had rushed to the hospital the moment she heard, and Maia's parents had denounced their Detective First Class daughter the day she kicked open her closet door. It had been one of the few times Jordan had seen her cool Eurasian partner in tears, the night she shared that story.

Now Maia lay near death, on an operating table for God only knew how long, and the vicious last words of her parents might finally come true. "We would rather have seen you dead!" Her mother had hissed the words at her, and nineteen year old Maia Reynard had left home, never to return. Now, eleven years later, death was close at hand.

Jordan felt the tears well in her eyes and forced them back, digging her fingernails into the palm of her hands, forcing back the screams fighting to tear loose. Her partner was a good cop, an honest cop and a dedicated one. She was the only partner Jordan had worked with at the 101st, and the only one she wanted.

The blond man had reached across the aise, gently pried her fingers loose, and tucked a spotless white handkerchief into her palm. "I'm Andrew." he said.

"Jordan."

As she gingerly dabbed at the threatening tears, he noticed her gold shield, hanging on it's chain around her neck. "Officer Jordan?"

"Detective." she snapped, then " I'm sorry. It's just that.they're working on my partner in there. She's one of my best friends, and I am totally helpless here." and the tears spilled into Andrew's handkerchief.

Andrew could hear her cursing herself and the gang bangers, her slow reaction time, Maia's courage in diving and protecting the boy the bangers had been beating. Fear and pain and grief choked her voice and he said softly, "You aren't helpless, Jordan."

A warm gold light suffused the room, and Jordan looked up, tear blinded. The light surrounded Andrew as he moved to sit beside her on the bench, she stared at him through wet spiky lashes as he smiled at her. "I'm an angel, Jordan, sent by God to help you through this pain."

"An..an angel?" she repeated softly, "Why would God send me an angel, unless..is she gone?"

He shook his head. "She's still fighting, as strong and as hard as she can. I don't know yet what will happen, but God will be with her, and with you, through it all."

"I can't even pray for her, Andrew, my mind..I can't think of anything but the shots, of her falling..."

"You can pray. When you can't think of the words, use the ones God gave you, a long, long time ago."

"The words?"

The angel took her hand, and the light surrounded them both. With a tender smile, he began, softly, "Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy Name.."

And Jordan learned that the nuns had taught her more than

fifteen ways to conceal a too short skirt, as the beautiful, timeless words came to her lips, and she began to speak aloud, "thy Kingdom come, thy Will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.." The numbing pain eased, and they sat together, the angel and the detective, praying for her friend long into the night.

Peter flashed his badge as he ran into the guarded hospital wing, knowing by the patrol officers stationed there that they hadn't caught all of the shooters yet. He didn't care, at that moment he was totally focused on finding Jordan. She needed him.

A kindly nurse directed him to the chapel, where he found Jordan sitting in a pew, eyes shining despite the dark circles and mascara smears around them, hands folded before her. "Jordie?"

"Peter!" he slid in beside her, wrapped her in his embrace and she hugged him back fiercely.

"What's the word on Maia?" he searched her face and she gave him a tired smile.

"Shelby is talking to the doctor now. She's out of surgery, and we're hoping."

"Have you been here all night? Why didn't you call, I would have come right away?"

"I wanted you, Pete, but I couldn't call. I couldn't think, I don't even remember coming down here to the chapel."

"I'm so sorry that you were alone, Jordie. To go through a whole night like this..I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

She smiled, radiant through her smudges and tears. "I wasn't alone, Peter. God was with me."

He was amazed at the expression on her face, but merely nodded. "I'm glad, then. I came as soon as I heard. "

They were walking out of the chapel together, and Jordan caught sight of herself in the glass. "I've got to wash my face, be right back, okay?" and she dashed into the restroom.

Having scrubbed herself to almost respectable, Jordan realized that she was still in her bloodstained short skirt and halter top…and grimaced at herself in the mirror. "this is no way to cheer a wounded partner." she muttered, as a warm, smiling woman in nurses' clothing came in.

"Here you go, baby, now you change out of those dirty clothes and put on these scrubs. They're not pretty, but they're clean and fresh smelling, and bright too, just the thing to make your partner smile when she sees you."

The older woman handed her a bundle of pink cloth, and a bag for her own clothing.

The bright smile in the warm brown face was kind, and Jordan impulsively hugged her benefactor. "Thank you so much, "Tess", reading the woman's name tag. And Tess laughed, a rich and welcome sound after a dark night.

"You're welcome, baby, you're welcome. Now, you get changed, quick! I have a feeling your partner's going to be waking up any minute."

When Jordan emerged from the restroom, Peter whistled and she grinned, hushing him. "Where'd you get the scrubs, hon?" he asked, she told him..and he hadn't seen Tess go in or out. Jordan touched the small gold cross she had worn since her confirmation, and smiled harder. She couldn't wait to see Maia.

As they reached ICU, they could Shelby sitting by a bed, holding Maia's hand in hers and talking through tears.

The nurse told them that they were only allowing one visitor at a time, but that she could make an exception "just this once."

Jordan went in, and while talking to her groggy partner, happened to glance out the back wall.

Andrew stood there, smiling at them all, then he waved his hand and walked away down the corridor. Maia was going to be just fine, and now her partner knew it.

end

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