A/N: Thank you for your lovely reviews to the previous chapter(s) – they mean a lot to me!

Ch 14 – Giving Thanks (4)

Oh, no.

"Angela, can you switch on the light?" Tony heard himself squeak.

"Mhm?" she hummed from where she still lay sprawled on her back, all soft skin and enticing curves.

"The light. I need to see something here."

Blindly, Angela reached over, and the little lamp on the nightstand filled their corner of the room with yellow light.

Tony looked down and swallowed. The bottom half of the condom was still in place, alright, but that was about it. How could he not have noticed?

He was just going to say something to Angela when he heard her voice. "Oh."

She was already sitting up and had seen for herself. They looked at each other. Tony couldn't read her expression at all, and he wasn't too sure what he was feeling, either.

"I'm so sorry," he stammered finally. Something like this had never happened to him before, and an apology was the first thing that came to mind.

Angela exhaled and her gaze flitted around the room briefly before settling on him again. "Ah, I should probably … go to the bathroom for a minute."

"Anything I can do?" he asked. It was a stupid reflex. He had already done enough.

Angela's eyes were two deep, dark pools of calm. "Not really. But thank you. I'll be right back. It's going to be fine."

She leaned over and brushed her lips against his cheek. Then the mattress dipped as she climbed past him and off the bed. Tony reached for her, wanting to return the tender gesture, but Angela was already too far away.

Watching her walk across the room in the lamplight, he noted once again how gorgeous she was. Her mussed hair, her face and chest still flushed from their lovemaking, the twin dips in her lower back, right above the roundness of her buttocks.

For a split second, he caught himself not thinking, but feeling. He wanted to call Angela back to bed. So what if she got pregnant. They loved each other, and she was right: It would be fine.

But his mouth didn't open, and the bathroom door closed behind her.

ooooooooo

As she got off the bed and walked towards the bathroom, Angela was extremely conscious of Tony's eyes on her, and of the warm wetness between her legs.

Once inside the bathroom, she took her robe off its hook and slipped into it. Then she paused for a few seconds, leaning her back against the door.

She hadn't fully arrived in the present moment yet. Too harsh was the contrast between the complete abandon, the deep connection between them only minutes before – and now this.

Guilt and confusion had been written all over Tony's face. He had looked like a whipped puppy.

This wasn't even his fault. She hadn't thought to check the date on the condoms. They were probably ancient, she hadn't had sex in her bedroom since Michael. That had been what? Four years ago? If anybody was to blame here, it was her.

Lifting her bathrobe, she sat on the toilet and tried to relax enough so she could pee.

With her eyes closed, she counted backwards in her head. It was certainly possible that she would get pregnant after this. But it was unlikely, given her history.

Angela slowly began to rub her upper arms with her hands. The terrycloth fabric of the robe felt so soft against her skin, and a powerful sadness welled up inside her. Why did their first night together have to take such a stressful turn?

Tony was already putting enormous pressure on himself about their situation, and he had his first set of finals coming up in December. The last thing they needed was for him to spend the next couple of weeks obsessing over a potential pregnancy.

There was always emergency contraception, if they wanted to rule out the possibility entirely. Did she want to go that far? No.

Having gone off the pill years ago because it gave her migraines, she preferred not to subject her system to artificial hormones anymore. Also, it would be a nightmare to try and find a doctor to prescribe her anything on a holiday weekend. She didn't want them to spend half of tomorrow dealing with those logistics when they could simply enjoy their togetherness here at home.

Angela took a couple of deep belly breaths, and at last, it worked. The soft tinkle of urine hitting the bowl. When she was done, she spread her legs further apart and bore down a couple of times. In between her efforts, she wiped herself with toilet paper.

So soon after she and Tony had climbed the highest heights together, this felt cold and shameful. Clean-up like this was something teenage girls did after co-ed mixers gone wrong, not grown women in their late thirties who had just slept with the man they hoped to spend the rest of their lives with.

Angela remembered the whispered conversations among some of the more popular girls that she used to overhear in the bathroom at Montague Academy. Hidden away in the last stall on the right, perched on top of the closed toilet lid, she would wait patiently for them to leave so she could throw up her after-dinner snacks in peace.

She hadn't thought of that in years. Swallowing against the sudden taste of bile at the back of her throat, she was quick to shove the unbidden memories aside.

When it seemed that she had achieved all that she could, she stood at the sink and washed away the last superficial remnants of their lovemaking with a damp cloth, carefully avoiding her reflection in the mirror.

Then she tightened the tie of her bathrobe and mentally prepared herself to face Tony, even as a small, tender part of her wondered what they would do if this led to something after all. She just couldn't help it.

ooooooooo

Wearing only his boxer briefs, Tony sprinted across the hallway. Although nobody else was home, it felt wrong to be walking around the house in his underpants. He half expected Mona or one of the kids to come up the stairs and catch him.

After a perfunctory knock on Angela's bedroom door, he stepped inside and found the room empty. The water was running in the bathroom.

Tony looked around. They had certainly left their mark on the room. Clothes were strewn all over the place, the pillows and blankets were in complete disarray, and he would need to strip the bed and wash those sheets. But not tonight. Tonight they needed to deal with this.

While cleaning himself up in his own little bathroom, he had tried to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. A couple of things he knew: He loved Angela, and he wanted to have a baby with her. But not right away. Not like this, while everything was still so imperfect.

It was another battle between his head and his heart, and he felt like a jackass for his ambivalence. Above all, he was determined not to let it show. If Angela found out how uneasy he felt, it would only hurt her.

Soon, he heard the squeaking of the towel rack. Those hinges needed oil again. Then the door opened, and there was Angela, wearing her pink bathrobe and a tentative smile.

"Hey, come here," Tony said and smiled back, extending his hand towards her. She took it, and he drew her into a hug. They held on to each other for a long time, swaying slowly from side to side.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, inhaling the scent of her hair. Coconut shampoo and conditioner. Eventually, he kissed her cheek and led her to sit on the edge of the mattress.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she interlaced her fingers with his.

"Am I okay?" Already she was worried about him, he could tell. "I think so. How about you?"

Angela nodded almost imperceptibly. "I'm okay too."

They looked at each other for a moment, both unsure how to proceed. Then Tony gathered his courage. They had to talk about this.

"I'm sorry if I seemed upset earlier." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "I was just … surprised, is all. Believe it or not, that has never happened to me before."

She laughed a little and shook her head. "It's alright. This is a first for me, too. I should have checked the date on those condoms."

"We'll buy new ones," he said, choosing a practical approach.

"And I'll go see my doctor about a new diaphragm."

Tony raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Sounds good."

After a beat, they started speaking at the same time and ended up talking over each other.

"Tony, about-" – "So, do you think-"

"Go ahead," she said.

Tony couldn't ignore the elephant in the room any longer. "Do you think it was … dangerous?"

The hint of a flinch appeared on Angela's features, and he knew that he had worded this poorly. "I mean, would it be the right time for you to-?"

"Get pregnant?" she finished for him.

"Yeah."

"It's the middle of my cycle, as far as I can tell. So, yes. But I'm not always completely regular. I can't be totally sure."

He nodded, processing. It was unfamiliar territory for them, talking about such matters openly. Tony felt tongue-tied, and he noticed that a slight blush had crept into Angela's cheeks.

Finally, he found his words again. "What do you want to do?"

Angela shrugged. "I did … what I could," she inclined her head in the direction of the bathroom. "Now we just have to wait."

Tony nodded again. Before he could stop himself, more words came out of his mouth. "What if-"

But she interrupted him, her voice quiet and strained, "Can we not play 'What if', please?"

He gave her a questioning look. "But-"

"It took me a year to get pregnant with Jonathan," she said, squeezing his hand, "and back then I was much younger, and we were really trying." At this, her blush intensified. "I don't think we have much to worry about after one time."

Something like the inverse of the soft expression from earlier tonight was playing across her face now. A peculiar mixture of regret and relief.

Reflexively, Tony wanted to rush to the defense of his little swimmers, but he bit his tongue just in time before an indignant 'Ay-oh!' could slip out.

"Okay," he said instead. "You're probably right." – Even though he wasn't so sure.

With Marie, one time had been enough. Well, one weekend. It had happened on their honeymoon. They spent Saturday and Sunday after their elopement in Marty Santangelo's sister-in-law's cousin's apartment on Sutter Avenue. Whenever the cousin went to visit relatives in Florida, Anita, the sister-in-law, made a couple of bucks by renting out the place to young couples who needed some alone time.

When Marie told him a couple of weeks later, he was over the moon. Sure, they were young. But they loved each other, they were married, and his baseball career was taking off – so why not have a baby? Starting that spring, he would make more than enough money to take care of his wife and child, and once the kid was older, they could come on the road with him, at least for part of the season. Some of the other guys' families did that.

Then, of course, nothing had worked out according to plan.

Angela gave him a look. "Or do you want us to go and get a prescription?"

"For what?" he asked, confused.

"There are pills you- I mean, that I could take. For emergencies."

He took a deep breath. Right, he had heard of that. But he was surprised to hear Angela suggest it.

"Is that what you want to do?"

"I took the pill years ago, and it gave me migraines, so I suspect that could happen again. But if you feel strongly about this, I would be willing to-"

"No, hey, Angela. I don't want you to take any pills that are gonna give you a migraine," he said, and he meant it.

He would never ask that of her. Also, he had a vague recollection of the Catholic Church's stance on this matter. Of course, the Church frowned upon any kind of birth control, including condoms, so there was that.

"Okay then." She smiled at him, clearly relieved.

"How long until we know?" he asked, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.

"About two weeks. It's not an exact science. But really, it's so unlikely, Tony. I don't want us to worry about this. Not unless we have to. Which I don't think we will," she added quickly and with emphasis before continuing more softly, almost pleadingly: "Let's enjoy the rest of this weekend. We've been looking forward to it. You spent so much time in the kitchen, and we have three more days to eat all of those leftovers."

"Alright," he said, letting go of her hand and wrapping his arm around her shoulders instead.

Angela knew her body best, and her suggestion seemed wise. They would cross this bridge only if they came to it.

He could do that.

Or at least he would try.

Actually, as long as he was holding Angela close like this, it wasn't all that difficult to find distraction. Her scent was intoxicating, and while he didn't think he had the stomach to follow up their earlier misadventure with a gamble on the durability of another one of those condoms, there were other things he wanted to do while they had the chance.

"I guess we lost each other as friends now, huh?" he hummed with his mouth close to her ear.

"It would seem so," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Are you sad that we're not friends anymore?"

"No," she said. "In fact, I don't ever want to be your friend again." He felt her warm breath on his neck.

"No?"

"No."

"Good. Me neither."

She chuckled, and they sat in silence for a short while, as if in commemoration of their friendship.

Then Tony spoke up again. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I'm kind of disappointed I didn't get to hold you after. Kiss you some more." He bent his head closer to her face.

"You can still do that." She looked up at him, and suddenly their lips were mere inches apart.

"Yeah?" Lips almost touching now.

"Yeah." Finally, contact.