Summary: Tony takes a look back at his life before moving to Connecticut. This is not a Tony/Angela fic, but that relationship does play a role in the story.
Disclaimer: I revoke any claim to the characters and settings as created and displayed in "Who's The Boss?", the rest however is mine.
Rating: PG
A/N: This is currently a work in progress, so comments and suggestions are not only welcomed, but highly valued. Hope you guys like it!
1...
The attic had grown dusty. Somewhere in the days between admitting his love for Angela and proposing to her, he had let this part of his job as a housekeeper slide. It wasn't that he was slacking off his duties just because he was seeing his boss. They weren't like that; he wasn't like that. It was just... The attic was a place of memories, folded up and packed away, the place where you send stuff that has been pushed aside by newer things. He had his own share of memories stored there, and the thought of digging them out and reliving them seemed too large of a job. It was something he needed to do though. There was no way he could move on with Angela without first settling his past. He wanted this badly, to move on with Angela. Today he woke up and knew beyond any doubt that he would spend the rest of his life loving her. She'd captured him hook, line, and sinker, and she was everything. But, he'd loved someone else before her, someone whose love built the basis for who he was today. It was a love he couldn't bring himself to forget. Short of forgetting, he knew he had to at least let go. He had to let go so he could move on. So he sighed and lowered himself to the floor, trailing a finger through the layer of dust resting on the box before him. Today he was going to revisit a place he seldom lingered: his past.
Laughter, that's the first clear memory I have of her, and she was laughing at me. A chorus of giggles as me and Vinny and Philly paraded down the street, proudly showing off our newly acquired tattoos. It was early June and the warmth of the setting sun hadn't faded yet. I was seventeen and just about to take my first step in making my dreams come true. In a day, I would hop on a train up north for a summer of playing A ball. I was joining late in the season, thanks to my Dad's insistence that I finish up the school year, but I was still getting a chance to play the game I loved. And maybe someday it would lead me to bigger things. However, for that one night, I was reveling in a warm Brooklyn evening with my friends, feeling like I was exactly where I belonged.
The tattoos were a whim. A bet made to prove we were tough, and part of proving that was to strut down the street showing off two hours of mind- numbing pain. Marie. She didn't seem to find us cool or macho at all. She just sat there with her friends, laughing her head off at three little boys pretending to be men. That giggle. It rang out through the air, immediately distracting me from whatever the guys were rambling on about. I looked up and saw her sitting on the steps of her building with a superior grin on her flushed and narrow face. I was almost angry until I looked into her eyes, and something about them sent a jolt right through me. I'd known her for almost forever, but this was the first time that I ever really looked at her. In that instant I decided that one day she would be mine, no matter how far in the distant future that would be. She must have sensed something too, because as I looked into her eyes I saw them change. One moment they were dancing with laughter and the next they radiated warmth. She blushed then, and shyly moved a lock of her beautiful long brown hair behind her ear. It made me want her even more. But then one of the girls said something to her, and the spell was broken. She quickly looked away and I turned to catch up with the guys. It could have ended up being just a passing memory, except at the last moment she called out, "Hey Micelli! You only think you're hot stuff!"
I stopped and looked back at her, a stupid, giddy grin crossing my face, and yelled, "Oh I am! You'll see!" She laughed then, but this time it was more of our own private joke. I waved and then chased after my oblivious friends. As we rounded the corner, I could hear her still - the sound of her laughter chasing along behind me. 'Someday..." I thought, and left it at that.