"I'm Diane Sawyer, we'll be back next week with another edition of 60 Minutes." The television anchor's weekly sign off filled the quiet living room. Tony and Angela were in their usual Sunday night positions - pajamas on, in front of the television, with tea and snacks. The room was accented with the reflection of Christmas lights from the tree peppering the walls.
Tony leaned back and stretched. He picked up the TV Guide to see what was on next. "Oh, darn. Murder She Wrote is a rerun."
"Yeah?" Angela distractedly responded.
Tony continued to read, "But ohhhh, listen to the Sunday Night Movie, 'Feuding brothers reconcile when they team up to deliver a load of Christmas presents to a small Alaskan town.' I better grab some more tissues."
He looked over at Angela, expecting her to protest she wasn't going to cry even though they both knew she would.
Angela shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and tried to hide a small grimace.
"You ok?" Tony asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Angela said.
"You sure? Your stomach hurt?"
"No, Tony, really. I'm fine."
"Do you think it was something from dinner? I feel okay, should I go check on the kids?"
"Tony, it's nothing. It wasn't dinner. My stomach is fine."
"Really? Because for someone who is fine, you look like you're in pain."
Angela exhaled loudly.
"I have *cramps*, okay?" She said cramps as a whisper as if there was anyone else in the room to hear them. A soft pink blush tinged her cheeks that couldn't be blamed on the Christmas lights.
"Ohhhh." Tony looked confused. "But that shouldn't be until next week."
"Pardon me?" Angela looked at him.
Tony shrugged, "I've picked up on patterns. Usually around this time you start asking if I've made cookies or brownies, then a few days later you cry over something you normally wouldn't cry over, then you tell me how much you normally wouldn't cry over it, then a few more days later I find … well, you know, I take out your bathroom trash."
"Oh," Angela looked embarrassed. "I'm early. I think maybe it's the stress of Christmas shopping, and we've been so busy at work. But I'm fine."
Tony shook his head softly. "You're not fine. Cramps hurt."
"How would you know?"
"What do you mean, how do I know? I haven't had those types of cramps, but any cramp hurts. Anyways Angela, I was married before. And I know Sam went to you when she got her first period … but we've talked since then."
Angela gave him a soft smile.
"Did you take anything?" He asked.
"No..."
"I've got just what you need. I'll be right back."
Tony jumped up and went into the kitchen. When he came back a few minutes later, he was holding a hot water bottle under his arm, a glass of water in one hand, and some pills in the other.
"Here you go, put this in your lap." He handed Angela the hot water bottle.
Angela placed it in her lap and reached for the pills and water.
"Is this Midol?" She asked, taking a closer look at the pills.
"No, better. I was talking to Dr. Wilmington at the pharmacy and she said this helps with cramps, headaches, and bloating, but doesn't have caffeine like Midol. This way it won't keep you up tonight."
Angela gave Tony a quizzical look.
"I was asking for Sam." He explained.
Angela still looked at him.
"Yes," Tony answered the question he knew she wanted to ask. "I was embarrassed, but I got over it."
Angela giggled. "Thank you. This is very sweet."
"Sure, no problem." Tony settled back into his seat. "Marie used to have really bad periods. I would take care of her when I was home. I mean, I can't do the one thing that used to really help her, for you, but I figure this is the next best thing." Tony avoided eye contact.
"What one thing?" Angela asked.
"You know…" He looked at her.
"Know what?"
Tony shrugged his shoulders and squinted his eyes. Did she not know? How could he phrase it? They'd talked about sex a bit every now and then. Once she even tried to delicately help him through what she thought was a problem "getting it up." If only she knew how much that wasn't a problem. Especially around her. "You know … female … uh … pleasure." He said in a low voice. "Not sex," he added, "just for her."
"Oh." Angela's eyes went wide and she gasped a bit.
Tony figured all women knew that helped. "Michael never did that for you?"
Angela shook her head. Tony wasn't sure if it was to say no, or clear her thoughts.
Now he was very curious. "Never?"
"No... I mean yes… I mean. Michael was fine in bed, but his interest in … female pleasure … was usually limited to when male pleasure was also involved." Angela gave an embarrassed smile and looked away.
"Oh, really? I always thought of Michael as such a giving guy." They looked at each other and giggled, partially from making fun of Michael, and partially from the awkwardness of this conversation.
Tony reached over and gently touched her shoulder. "Anyway, I hope this makes you feel better."
"It does. I already feel a little better, thank you." Angela touched the hand on her shoulder. "You are a great friend, and the best Dad a girl could have."
Now it was his turn to blush.
"You wanna stay up and watch the Sunday night movie with me after this?" Tony asked, while gesturing to the television where Jessica Fletcher was checking for someone's pulse.
"Yeah, but you should probably grab some more tissues."