Author's Note: Gee, I'd forgotten how giddy I get when people like what I write. Thanks to those who reviewed! This is the last chapter with Angie as a main focus (at least for a while) which makes me happy. Gibbs is in the next chapter, so let the fun begin

*Ring ring*

*Ring ring*

This time, Tony was actually working at his desk when the phone rang. "This IS Tony Dinozzo; how can I make your life better today?"

"Tony? It's Angie again."

Although it had been only two months (and then some) since he had seen his friend last, Tony was delighted to hear from her. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Um...well, I'm in DC again. Can we do dinner tonight or do you have plans?"

"Even if I had plans, dear lady, I would surely clear them for you. I know a great place with Mediterranean food, shall I pick you up? Where are you staying?"

"Yeah…that sounds fine. Say 7:00? I'm staying at the same place as last time."

Tony was happy to hear again from Angie, but something was off. She wasn't as excited as last time and she sounded almost…nervous. He wasn't sure why. Even after the night they spent together, they hugged and laughed it off in the morning. They knew without a word being spoken that it had been two lonely people wanting comfort. If it wasn't that, was she maybe falling harder on times? It didn't matter; they'd sort it out over dinner.

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When Tony saw Angie exit the hotel he ran to open the car door for her, with a gallant bow. She giggled and sat inside. They sped off to the restaurant Tony put the reservation in at, as he regaled her with stories from the latest case. They sat down to dinner and ordered, still on mundane subjects. Angie seemed fine, although a little anxious. When she finished her meal and placed her fork on the plate, Tony followed suit and then leaned forward over the table.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on, Ang? You're fidgety."

She took a deep breath, composing herself. What's so important, Tony wondered. "Okay well…God, I have no clue how to say this. I'm pregnant. Just over two months. It's from the night in the hotel."

Whatever Tony was expecting, this was definitely not it. He gave a disbelieving chuckle and then- "What?" He sat, shell shocked, as her words assaulted his ears. Too drunk to remember protection (why hadn't he thought of that before?)- missed period- vomiting- doctor visit- pregnant- no one else.

"So you see Tony, I don't have a job. Unemployment checks are paying for my apartment. I can't, won't abort it. I guess adoption would be the answer, but I don't want to do that to a child…"

Tony swallowed. "Shit, Angie, I'm so sorry. It's my fault I should have…well, too late now. You know I'll look out for you and take care of you any way I can." Can he get the words out? His tongue feels thick, his brain feels heavy. "That being said, I will also take care of anyone of my blood. Any way I can."

"Tony…"

"I have enough from NCIS and I can work out someone to watch him (or her). I'll be the father I never had to it. The kid room, the stroller, the clothes, I can take care of that. I don't know how this all works, but it will work out."

Angie's eyes filled and her shoulders began to shake. Tony led her onto the patio of the restaurant, since it was still too cold for outside diners, and held her as she cried into his shoulder. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but more than a few tears rolled down his cheeks as well. Once she recovered (and Tony wiped his sleeve across his face), he led her inside and back to their table. Adopting his normal, goofy Tony attitude, he started rambling "Remember when you found that ugly stray cat on the street and wanted to keep it, but your landlord said no pets and I took it in? It'll be just like that, it'll all work out! Except babies don't use litter boxes. Though perhaps I could train my kid.…Babies also don't have claws to scratch me. Hey, that scratch drew blood!"

Angie gave a watery giggle, which turned into a good long laugh as Tony kept regaling her with stories about the ugly cat, which he had named Spartacus for no reason known to her. After they left the restaurant, Tony drove Angie back to the hotel and they sat with the car idling out front.

"Are you sure about this? I mean we have seven months, or something, so arrangements can be made in any direction…No? You're sure?" She gave him a long, hard hug. "I always thought you'd be a good dad. Your kid will be Siskel or Ebert Junior."

"With your beautiful looks, of course. Though I must insist on our baby being a through and through Italian."

After discussing doctor's visits and ultrasounds and cravings and weight gain, they parted ways. Each had a lot to think about, about the next seven months and beyond.