A/N: What if Mona had not intercepted Tony while Geoffrey was proposing? Tony never went to Angela's window. He never spray painted "No" for her. So, here's an alternate version of events. Season 3, The Proposal.

"Geoffrey, the answer is . . the answer is," Angela faltered, then coughed to save face. "My voice, she whispered, holding a hand up to her throat while exaggerating her wheeze."

"Snookums, I don't mean to rush you, but I really need an answer now. Can you simply nod or shake your head?" Geoffrey was becoming impatient and fearful of Angela's possible answer. He wanted this woman for his wife. She was a perfect match for him in so many ways. He knew, and had the carefully folded list to prove it. He couldn't let her get away. "I know your throat is sore, but my darling, know that I will always take care of you when you're sick. In sickness and in health, right?" He gazed at her tenderly and grabbed her hand. "Please my Angel, please make me the happiest man alive! You won't regret it. I will make it my life goal to make you happy," he grovelled.

Angela opened her mouth and closed it again. Geoffrey saw the opportunity for one more bit of sweet-talking, "I worship the ground you walk on." His declaration was both heartfelt and strategic, for he could see her beginning to cave. "We're perfect together, don't you think so?" he asked her.

Slowly, she nodded. Her heart was slamming into her chest and she couldn't remember what it was she wanted to tell him. Her list matched his. Perhaps she wasn't cut out for spontaneous passion like Tony and Marie. Besides, Tony and Marie had been teenagers when they wed. She and Geoffrey were in their thirties, both professionals, with common goals and views. Still, she couldn't shake a certain uneasiness and felt unable to respond.

"You nodded! You nodded! Is that a yes?" Geoffrey jumped up, an enormous grin on his face. "Oh Angel, is it a yes? Please tell me it's a yes!"

"Uh …", Angela felt trapped. Geoffrey's joy, so palpable, so present in the closed room felt like a reproach to her doubt. He looked down at her, hope radiating from his blue eyes. She saw the love there, and knew with certainty that he would never hurt her. Michael had never been this keen. She wanted to be safe, to be loved, to be taken care of. But something nagged at her. Before she could organize her thoughts, Geoffrey knelt down once more and took her hands in his. "We love each other," he said. "We're good together and I don't want us to end." His eyes glinted with moisture as he gazed into her eyes. He placed his hand on her cheek and drew her toward him, placing a light kiss on her closed mouth. "My love, marry me. Marry me. Say you'll marry me. Say it …." Geoffrey chanted, his voice hypnotic and eyes pleading.

"Alright. Alright, I'll marry you," she gasped. After all, why shouldn't she marry Geoffrey? He was nice to her. He was stable. Yes, very stable, and predictable. He was neat and prompt and serious, and he loved her. Of that she was sure. He definitely loved her. She was not destined to be impulsive nor to embrace reckless abandon. Angela knew who she was, and who she would continue to be. So many years of lonely single-hood. Surely, she wouldn't be one to go on Single's Cruises like Mona. She would be adored by Geoffrey, and life would be agreeable, pleasant even. Yes, she confirmed to herself. Yes, this was the easy choice. Otherwise, she'd have to break Geoffrey's heart, and he didn't deserve that. Besides, she'd prompted him to propose after his stupid time-share idea. She had truly believed he was going to propose, and had been all set to say yes. That was her first instinct. To say yes. So yes.

Mona entered the house in a panic. "Where is he?" she demanded of Tony, who was sitting on the couch looking forlorn.

"Who?"

"Geoffrey! Where is he? And where's Angela?" she asked, more loudly this time.

"They're upstairs. He's proposing and she's accepting." He looked down at his feet and sighed.

"Well what are you doing down here, man?!"

"Why? What do you mean?"

She walked over to him and grabbed his arm. "Get up there! Talk some sense into her. She'll listen to you." Mona pulled Tony's arm in a failed attempt to lug him off the couch.

"Stop it, Mone." He threw her off and glared at her. "Do you really expect me, her housekeeper to tell her what to do?" He shook his head. "Don't you see? She wanted to marry him. Look how disappointed she was when he offered her a timeshare instead of proposing."

"Angela doesn't know what's good for her. Keeping that dork around for as long as she has makes it obvious, doesn't it?"

"Mona, it's not my place to tell her what to do. She's been with Geoffrey for months now, and they seem happy. Remember when they broke up after the tree fell on his car? She was miserable."

"And you were the idiot who helped them get back together," Mona lamented. "I thought you two ….I thought the two of you would end up together one day."

Tony looked away from her, unable to meet her scrutinizing stare. A warm blush made its way up his neck to his cheeks and he could feel them burning with shame. "Yeah well, Mone, you gotta stop playin' matchmaker. Angela and I are friends and she's my boss. That's it." The words rang hollow to him, so he continued to avert his eyes.

Mona said nothing for a moment, as she was quite unable to respond to Tony's falsehood with anything but anger or sarcasm. She sucked in her breath and exhaled sharply. Trying to reason with her stubborn daughter, and even more stubborn housekeeper was an exercise in futility. Sometimes Mona fantasized about smashing their heads together, or at least their lips. Given the impossibility of said task, Mona decided to switch tactics.

"Tony, do you or do you not have feelings for Angela?" Mona got right into Tony's face and space.

Tony crossed his arms and hung his head low. "Why are you doing this, Mona? Angela's gonna get married. There ain't nothin' I can do about it. There never was."

"That's because you two obstinate hardheads will never admit your feelings for each other. Whatever the reasons, I'll never understand." Mona shook her head. "I remember the chemistry between you two on the day of Paul and Isabelle's wedding. When you danced with her, sparks were shooting all around you. It was so obvious in the way you looked at her, and the way she was gazing back at you. Dammit Tony, you never should have let her dance with Geoffrey!" She flailed her arms helplessly sat down, defeated.

"There you go blamin' me again, Mone. I let her dance with Geoffrey. I got them back together. I let him in to propose and didn't stop it. What about her? Huh? What about Angela? Clearly, this is what she wants!" Tony roughly ran his hands through his hair. "So stop layin' all of this on me! Angela made her list. That's what she does. She makes lists." He looked so utterly crushed, his voice cracking with every word. "I gotta get outta here." Tony grabbed his jacket and keys and ran out of the house, leaving a rather stunned Mona gaping at his departing back.

A/N: So I found this one chapter of a new story on my hard drive. Wrote it a few years ago. Yes, years. Should I continue it?