Sorry for the delay everyone, hope the long chapter makes up for it.

If Tony is going overboard, let it be for a good reason.

A Holiday in November

It had been raining steadily for the whole train ride home; a cold, dark, drizzly November rain. Angela felt the chill of the weather and tried to ward off the outer gloominess by imagining her perfect evening, a snug Friday night at home curled up by the fire with Tony and a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream, although it could not be said with any certainty whether she was more looking forward to Tony, the chocolate or the whipped cream. Or perhaps it was a combination of all of the above.

Jonathan was away for the weekend on a student government retreat, mother had stayed in Manhattan for a date, and knowing her mother as she did, Angela felt safe that her mother would not be home tonight, or at any time before the Sunday night family dinner. A surprise visit from Samantha might happen, but with the weather being what it was tonight; it didn't seem likely that Sam would venture out. Angela was satisfied that any impediments to her plans for the evening were taken care of and smiled at the thought of being alone in the house with Tony. So lost was she in her daydream that she almost missed her stop.

Silently laughing at herself, Angela managed to pull herself together to depart the train. She rued Tony's early class schedule, if there was any day she needed him to drop her off at the station and pick her up, it was today. So eager was she to see him, she hoped beyond hope that he had taken a cab to the station and was going to surprise her, she scanned the lobby, but he was nowhere to be seen. She sighed; it had been an overly romantic thought anyway. Angela pulled her coat closer together and battled the elements on the way to the car, she even managed to put Tony out of her mind long enough to drive home safely.

Pulling the car into the driveway, Angela noticed the house was dark. She was disappointed and frustrated. Tony hadn't told her he wouldn't be home when she arrived and she felt all the anticipation of a romantic evening evaporating from her being. This evening had suddenly turned from fun to loneliness. No Tony. No romance. And now she was starting to become angry with him because even though he didn't know it, he'd ruined her plans for the evening. Why didn't he tell her he wouldn't be home? It wasn't like him at all. Resigned to her dull fate, Angela decided she might as well go in and change into flannel pajamas, at least those would keep her warm.

Angela went to the front door to check the mail box, but found that there was no mail. She mentally noted that this was odd because no one had been around today to pick up the mail. She let the mystery slide however as she was too cold and vexed to really care.

Her mood now one of angry discontent, Angela opened the front door expecting to see an empty living room. What she saw instead made her stop in her tracks. Her mood instantly transformed from anger to joy.

"Tony…" she said in disbelief.

"Hi Angela," he answered.

Angela was still in a state of shock, she finally remembered to shut the door behind her, but she was too overwhelmed by what she saw before her to even set down her briefcase. Tony had transformed the living room into their own very private dining room. The room looked dark from the outside because it was lit by only fire and candlelight. Soft music played in the background. The small table was set up by the fireplace, a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket next to it. This was a much better chill than the chill in the weather. A bouquet of pink roses was carefully placed on the coffee table and even the worst the weather had to dish out couldn't dull her senses enough to enjoy the delicious aroma of linguine alle vongole wafting through the house.

This was all Angela could comprehend in a quick glance around the room because her attention was more focused on Tony. He stood near the center of the room, impeccably dressed in a sharp suit and tie, holding one pink rose. If it had been within her power to run and throw her arms around him she would have; but she was too surprised to even consider it. And to think she had just been angry with him for deserting her tonight.

Tony was very pleased by her response, it wasn't often he was able to render her speechless, so he allowed himself to revel in his triumph for a moment before taking the romance up another notch by saying, "happy Valentine's Day, Angela."

Angela was a little perplexed, "Valentine's Day? In November?"

"Anyone can do Valentine's Day in February," he started walking toward her, "I thought that since we've done our best to ignore the day over the years; now that we don't have to ignore it, why wait until February?"

She liked the way he thought, a smile formed as she said, "I can't argue with that reasoning."

"Good," he said as he took her briefcase out of her clutched hands and presented her with the rose he had been carrying. He set the case on the desk and there it remained, forgotten, for the rest of the weekend.

Angela clasped the rose, smelled it, and looked up at him with a face so effused with love that Tony felt like the luckiest man on the planet. "Happy Valentine's Day, Tony," she whispered as she leaned in to give him a very warm, sweet and lingering kiss. After they finally managed to call a temporary halt to the kissing, Angela put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, quite content to stay there for an eternity if need be. Tony held her close and quietly reflected that the night had started off well, he hoped the rest of the evening would not be a disappointment.

After some time standing there lost in each other's arms, Angela finally realized she was still wearing her damp work clothes. She pulled away from her beloved and bemoaned her sorry state, "I'm a bedraggled mess."

"You look beautiful," he answered.

She kissed him quickly then said, "thank you, but I'm going to change into something a little drier and more suited to the holiday. You've obviously put a lot of thought and effort into this evening and I don't want to spoil it by remaining in damp workday clothes. I won't be long." And with that she gave him one more quick kiss, then practically ran upstairs to change into something much more comfortable.

Tony watched Angela flit upstairs, happy that not only had he managed to surprise her, but also that she was so pleased by the surprise. He'd been planning this evening on the sly, always a little worried that he would slip up and give away the secret; or worse that she would come up with some other idea for tonight and he would have to either postpone dinner or find some way to scuttle Angela's plans. He was relieved that so far everything was going according to his plan; even better than planned actually since Angela's reaction was more than he had hoped for.

Tony went to the kitchen to check on dinner. Upstairs, Angela rummaged through her closet trying to find the perfect complement to Tony's attire. She pulled out dress after dress rejecting each one as being either too formal or frumpy or just not the look she wanted to project tonight. Frustrated at taking so long for such a simple decision, then chastising herself for calling it a simple decision, it was anything but, the dress had to be just right; Angela finally remembered a new outfit in the corner of her closet. She dared herself to wear it. She pulled the dress out of the closet, the hem was a lot higher on the skirt than her usual length, this one was above the knee; but she had purchased it with just such an evening in mind. She just didn't think she'd actually have the opportunity or the nerve to wear it.

Angela held the dress up to her in front of a mirror. Yes, this was what she was looking for, a red dress, if Tony was celebrating Valentine's Day in November she wanted to wear the appropriate color. The neckline was off the shoulders, the bodice tapered in at the waist, a chiffon skirt flared out providing softness. It was a fun and flirty dress that was an expression of their evolving relationship. Tony had always been the one to find the balance between the woman who buried her heart in her work and the woman whose spirit overtook her every so often threatening to ruin all that she worked so hard to build and she loved him for it; dearly.

She changed as quickly as she could and impatiently rushed back downstairs until she saw a bemused look on Tony's face. She stopped a couple of steps from the bottom and invoked a more decorous attitude, pretending she hadn't been in a hurry to get back downstairs at all. She looked at Tony, daring him to comment, he did consider it for a moment or two as he was amusingly gratified by her zeal, but decided against it as he was too taken with her new outfit to bother.

She reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked at her almost voraciously and she blushed.

"Whoa, Angela, new outfit? You look gorgeous." He definitely appreciated the red, in fact he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Yes...thank you," she answered a little nervously. Even though the new dimensions of their relationship were working well, she was still a little a shy under the full force of his admiring gaze. There was never any doubt he would greatly approve of any skirt that showed off her legs (for his always appreciative eyes only), she was still just a little in awe of this new world they were creating. Every day brought them chances to revel in this new bliss, Angela found the freedom to express her heart liberating.

The fact that they could actually say "I love you" to each other without having to pretend to ignore it still scared Angela. She knew it was a silly fear, but it did have a tendency to intrude on her thoughts and make her pull away. Most of the time she felt giddy, like a schoolgirl lost in a romantic haze, she hoped the feeling would never go away; this blush of new romance. Continuing to keep their relationship a secret elevated the romance for Angela; living in their own private fantasy made her heart skip a beat every time she thought about it, this was the romance she'd dreamed about for so very long and she vowed not to let Tony down, no matter how nervous she was.

Tony noticed Angela blush and turn away, it was a behavior he'd taken note of before, but she hadn't shared the reason for her hesitancy yet and he knew that trying to pry an answer out of her when she wasn't ready to talk was not going to work; so he held out his arm to escort her to the table. She smiled at him, and took his arm. Her smile made him smile and they stood still for a moment just basking in the glow of each other's eyes.

A rude buzzer from the kitchen interrupted their reverie; Angela almost jumped a mile at the sudden noise. Tony squeezed her arm and walked her to her chair, then hurried to the kitchen to retrieve the rest of dinner. Angela, alone for a moment, gazed around the living room, still amazed they were celebrating Valentine's Day in November. This made her smile even more; it's entirely possible she even sighed. Repeatedly.

Tony promptly returned from the kitchen and placed the linguine on the table, joining the bread and salad already there.

Angela became aware of Nat King Cole singing softly, "…if there is some other way to prove that I love you, I swear I don't know how. You'll never know if you don't know now…"

Starry-eyed, Angela drank in the atmosphere, Tony was making dreams come true tonight that she never even knew she had, "I still can't believe you did all this," she said, her voice full of wonder and love.

"All what?" he asked as he popped the champagne. "It's just dinner, we have dinner every night."

"Don't try to be modest, it doesn't suit you. How long have you been planning this?"

"A few weeks," he answered as he poured the champagne.

Angela gazed at him as he sat down; tonight was exceeding any romantic expectation she had ever had and she was thrilled beyond belief by his thoughtfulness.

Tony was glad that she was going along with the conceit of the evening. Although he was fairly certain she wouldn't mind celebrating Valentine's Day on any day of the year, there was a certain folly to the evening that she could scoffed at. Remote as the chance was that such a romantic as Angela would reject this out of season play, the chance itself was still there. He was relieved she had bought into the evening wholeheartedly.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Angela," Tony said holding his glass out to her.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Tony," she answered, clinking her glass to his, her eyes never leaving his for a moment.

He was too far away. Angela wondered if there was some way to sit in his lap during dinner instead of all the way on the other side of the table, which felt as wide as the Pacific Ocean right now. Yes, they could have a very nice dinner all cuddled up together in one chair, feeding each other bits of linguine. Maybe they could even take a cue from an old Disney movie and each start eating from an opposite end and meet in the middle. Angela giggled at her silliness.

"Private joke, Angela?"

She blushed, "no, I was just thinking about a Disney movie, the one about the dogs."

"101 Dalmatians?"

It was a good guess by Tony, and it made Angela smile at a cherished memory, but she had to reply, "no, the other one."

"The Ugly Dachshund?"

"No, the other other one; the romantic one with the spaghetti."

"Lady and the Tramp?"

"Yes, that one."

"You're thinking about a Disney movie now?"

"Spaghetti," she answered simply and that was enough for Tony to understand what made her laugh.

"Works fine in an animated movie, but would probably be messy in real life."

"Agreed," Angela laughed again, but didn't say anything more; in fact she was lost in thought.

"Angela?" Tony prompted.

"Sorry, I was just thinking how well that movie captured life."

"Aunt comes for a visit and disrupts the whole household with her pets?"

Angela smiled at his joke, her eyes laughing, "No, I mean the give and take between Lady and her Tramp. She's sheltered and repressed and he's lived by his wits, taking what life throws his way and making the best of it. He shows Little Miss Obedient Prim and Proper there's more to life than living up to someone else's expectations. She's charmed, but too scared to admit it, fearing the consequences of truly being herself, of throwing herself into life..." She stopped, the parallels were hitting a little too closely.

"So, you're saying I'm a Tramp?" Tony joked, trying to draw her back from her retreat.

"Of course not."

"A Lady, then?"

"Tony!"

He smiled, his eyes playful; she laughed at his teasing.

"Tramp does have excellent taste in food, I'll give him that."

Angela smiled, "He certainly knows how to treat a lady." She touched her champagne glass to his before taking another sip.

Tony turned serious, "don't discount what she does for him,"

"What do you mean?"

"If it weren't for a Lady, he would still be searching. She gave him love and a home where they lived happily ever after."

They looked at each other, wondering if happily ever after existed in a world outside of a Disney movie; but each hoping that it did.

"I think she got the better part of that deal," Angela said.

"I'd disagree with that."

They were quiet for a few moments, both suddenly a little shy. Tony was nervous, but hiding it well. Angela silently wondered if perhaps they should try that spaghetti, well, in this case, linguine, maneuver, then she blushed at the thought and turned away.

"Tony, I can't believe we are sitting here on Valentine's Day discussing an old Disney movie."

"'Beauty and the Beast' opens next week, we can go see that and discuss a new Disney movie."

She laughed softly, "fine," trust Tony to find the humor by not commenting on Disney movies in general, only in old vs. new. There was certainly no one else she'd rather see a movie with; old, new, Disney or not.

"But if you draw any comparisons between me and a beast the date is off."

Angela laughed wholeheartedly.

"I will, however, draw a comparison and say you are my beauty today and every day."

Touched, Angela could no longer tolerate the distance between them. She rose and before Tony even had a chance to react she had settled herself in his lap and was kissing him rather intensely.

When she finally pulled away, she closed her eyes and touched her forehead to his, "Tony," she whispered, "I'm not very hungry, can we skip dinner?"

Much as the idea intrigued him, he had more planned for the night, not that his plans didn't include 'skipping dinner', it was just that that particular activity was planned for later in the evening. He swallowed, this was not going to be easy, "Angela, honey; wonderful as that…" what was he saying, he'd lost his train of thought as Angela was dragging a finger across his chin. He clasped her hand and kissed her palm, he had to retain some sort of control, and get her off his lap; fast. So he stood up, she protested as he placed her feet on the floor and walked her back to her own chair.

"Patience, Angela."

"Patient?" she pouted, "I was nothing but patient for years. You can't blame a girl for…wanting to make up for lost time."

No, no he couldn't, and she almost succeeded in getting him to forgo dinner and change his plans for the evening. Only the thought of looking back on this night brought him back from the brink. He wanted them to have the memory of a full evening, not one overtaken by passion. There were always other nights with the potential of being overtaken by passion; tonight had a specific itinerary. He sat back down in his own chair, alone, and tried to catch his breath.

Angela was gratified that she had decidedly unnerved him. Temporarily contented, Angela concluded that Tony had an agenda for tonight and that even though throwing those plans out the window would be fun, it was also be a little rude to Tony for her to toss aside everything he'd worked for. And to waste linguine alle vongole would be a crime, so she decided to let him off the hook, "Tony, I have to admit that when I pulled into the driveway I was angry with you," she said, then took a bite of salad.

He was surprised, "why?" He couldn't think of anything he'd done or worse, hadn't done, that would irritate her.

"All the way home on the train I was envisioning a nice quiet evening with you; but when I finally arrived home, you didn't seem to be here. I thought you were out somewhere and hadn't bothered to tell me. I was annoyed."

"Angela, you know me better than that."

"I know, that's part of why I was so disappointed, but then I came inside," she smiled.

"You got over your anger pretty quickly."

"You could say that, yes."

The phone rang and Angela almost jumped out of her chair; Tony was amused, she'd obviously forgotten that Jonathan was scheduled to call in tonight. Yet another reason for them not to have abandoned his plans. The phone rang again and Angela cleared her head, "you'd better turn down the music, I don't want Jonathan to hear it." Tony set to his task as Angela went to answer the phone.

"You'd better change the tone in your voice, switch over to 'Mom'," Tony prompted.

"Right," she answered, "mom, mom; have to be mom now," she repeated as she picked up the phone.

"Hi Jonathan," she said a little too brightly. They chatted for a few minutes, Angela tried to pay attention to what her son was saying, but even if he had told her a herd of pink elephants had tramped through the convention center carrying flamingos on their backs it wouldn't have registered more than a 'that's nice' response from her. She was too lost in thoughts of Tony and whatever the rest of his plans for this evening were. In fact, her attention was caught by something on the coffee table she hadn't noticed before. Next to vase of roses was a heart-shaped box. Oh, that was it, she had to end this phone call with her son; she loved the kid, but at the moment she belonged completely to Tony and Valentine's Day…in November.

"That sounds great, Jonathan, call me tomorrow, after your activities…late in the day. Bye," and with that less than maternal farewell she placed the phone receiver back in the cradle, she briefly considered taking the phone off the hook but quickly rejected the idea because if Sam tried to call and got no answer, she'd definitely come over, no matter what the weather; and Angela wanted to avoid any well-meaning family member checking in tonight.

On the other end of the line, Jonathan rolled his eyes at his mother's farewell. Her relationship with Tony was resulting in unexpected freedom for him. There were times when it seemed both of them completely forgot there were three other people in the family. He was starting to see why his mom and Tony decided to stay apart for so long; they'd never have been able to uphold their parental responsibilities if they had succumbed to their passion years ago. He shook his head and smiled at his lovestruck mother, then called Samantha.

Tony was amused by Angela's phone manner, but decided it best not to comment; instead he turned the music back up, hoping it would bring Angela back to the dinner table. It didn't; her gaze was still transfixed on the coffee table. He walked over to her, waving his hand in front of her face and following her line of vision. The chocolates; of course, he'd planned those for part of dessert, but it looked like they'd soon become an appetizer.

"Tony, there's a heart-shaped box on the table."

She was stating the obvious, but Tony went along with it, "yes, yes there is."

"Is it just for Valentine's show? Or is there something inside it? And where did you find a heart-shaped box in November in the first place?"

"It's not just for show. There's definitely something inside it. And to answer your third question,'Chocolat, Chocolat, rien mais Chocolat'." A chocolate shop more commonly known as 'CCC', and even more colloquially known around the house as 'Angela's Second Home'. She loved the place so much she'd often considered offering to do their advertising for free, or in her better fantasies, on a barter basis.

Angela gripped the table, he hadn't, had he? He had, she knew it; there could be nothing else in that box other than champagne truffles. How did he possibly expect her to keep her hands off of him for however long he expected her to keep her hands off him tonight when he'd done everything he possibly could do to make sure she didn't keep her hands off him? This was becoming somewhat aggravating; she was beyond seduced already and now he'd gone and thrown truffles into the mix, too? She really couldn't think straight.

"I was saving them for dessert." He was enjoying Angela's beguiled and tantalized state of mind very much.

"I was hoping for brownies for dessert," she said, a little disappointed, nothing took the edge off a rough day like Tony's brownies, and as much as she loved any and all chocolate from 'CCC', it could never compare to any of Tony's home-baked confections.

"There are brownies," he said deceptively simply. He knew darned well that Angela and brownies were a combination to be reckoned with.

Angela's mind wandered somewhere far, far away from any sort of rational thought. She wondered if there happened to be any batter left. Brownie batter was a long-standing fantasy of hers concerning Tony, mostly licking it off Tony….oh, best to drag herself away from those thoughts, no matter how much she didn't want to. Then she reconsidered, why should she tear herself away from thoughts of Tony and brownie batter? Why couldn't she make that fantasy come true tonight? First, she'd have to broach the subject with him, certainly they were close, but the physical aspect of their relationship was still so new she hadn't yet garnered the courage to bring this up to him.

"…all year 'round, just have to ask."

That was Tony. He said something; Angela just wasn't sure what, only the very end of what he'd just said managed to make its way through her batter addled brain. Tony noticed Angela was lost in her own world and was worried that he was losing her to whatever she was thinking about, so, ironically, he was trying to bring her back around to him. If only he'd known her thoughts were very much on him.

"I'm sorry, what did you say, Tony?" Angela managed to shake off the chocolate induced brain fog to focus her attention back on Tony, conveniently ignoring that her thoughts had never really left Tony.

"I said," he answered starting to wonder if Angela was feeling well, she looked a little flushed, "CCC carries heart-shaped boxes all year round; you just have to ask for them."

"Oh, isn't that nice," Angela was trying to sound like a competent, composed woman; which of course most of the time she was; but at the moment she was fighting a losing battle with her libido. "Tony, is there any brownie batter left?"

Brownie batter? Had Angela seriously just asked him about brownie batter? This was beyond comprehension to Tony. Why would she care if there was any batter left? "No, Angela, there's none left; I already washed the bowl."

"Oh, that's too bad," she sighed and turned around and leaned against the table.

"Angela, are you all right? I've never known you to be upset about brownie batter before."

"I…uh…was just hoping to lick the spoon," she winced as soon as the words came out.

Of course, how could he have forgotten? She always attacked the remnants of batter left on the spoon with reckless abandon. "Sorry, Angela, guess I was too worried about all the other details of the evening to remember the spoon."

She smiled, relieved that he hadn't read anything more into brownie batter and spoons than any sort of usual activity with them. "Weren't we having dinner?" After all, the sooner dinner was over, the sooner after dinner activities could commence.

Now he was relieved, "yes, and it's time we ate some of it instead of just talking about it."

"Truer words were never spoken," Angela thought, but she just nodded and made her way back to her chair. Tony also sat down and for a few minutes they actually did manage to eat, although at the back of her mind Angela concluded that her sole reason for eating was to have energy for later. "Tony, you've really outdone yourself, dinner is delicious, and every detail is perfect. Thank you for such a wonderful evening."

"I thought it was about time the two of us celebrated this day properly; and not from a set up by an 8 year old."

She smiled, her eyes sparkling in remembrance, "that was quite a night."

"Yes, it was," he smiled in return.

"And I may never admit this to Jonathan, but that was a clever plan he put together."

Tony smiled in remembrance, 'yes, it was. And I will reiterate, you did look awfully cute in that bathrobe."

Angela laughed.

"Although not half as cute as you look out of it," Tony added just loudly enough for her to hear.

"Tony!" she exclaimed in mock offense, not even coming close to pulling it off through her laughter.

He tried to look contrite but wasn't pulling it off any better than Angela was in her pretense.

But tonight wasn't about that night and Angela's thoughts were elsewhere, "not to change the subject completely, but I seem to remember finding a rose on my desk on Valentine's Day every year since then. You wouldn't happen to know how they got there, would you?" One pink rose in a bud vase on her desk at home every year; he never mentioned it, she never mentioned it. Typical of them.

Angela cherished those roses; they made Valentine's Day bearable for her. The first one surprised but thrilled her. The next year she feared the first one was a fluke and there'd be no rose, she tried not to think about it as it made her miserable, but the rose was there and her heart skipped a beat or two because of it. Some years she was anxious on the train home from work, wondering if the rose would be there; it always was, year after year; simple, elegant and saying so much without a single word. Sometimes she stared at the rose and lost herself in imagining a relationship between Tony and herself; those moments saw her through the times when it was most difficult for her to believe she'd ever be in love again with anyone, let alone Tony.

Tony's view on the roses was more pragmatic, he wasn't even sure what prompted him to start the tradition in the first place, although he always considered it to be that he wanted Angela to know someone was thinking of her. The first year he was nervous; afraid she'd reject the offering as a line they couldn't cross. Their undiscussed but mutually agreed upon silence on the subject was a relief to him. It made the ritual safe. Once or twice he thought about keeping a rose on her desk year round but rejected the idea as definitely crossing the line.

The rose always disappeared, Angela spiriting it away to the office just before it wilted. There she dried the petals and year after year added them to a covered pot pouri bowl she kept on her desk. Also undiscussed by them through the years.

He feigned innocence, "me? No, I don't know."

"Pity, I always wanted to bestow a special Valentine's thank you on the giver. Oh well," she continued as she left her chair, "I guess I'll just have to live my life in endless wonder about those mysterious roses."

He reached out to her and pulled her on to his lap. She kissed him, trying to impart to him without words her love and gratitude for his past gifts. Finally contented with the kissing, "oh, and Tony, that rose tradition had better not disappear just because we don't have to pretend anymore."

"Duly noted," he agreed as he kissed her.

Dinner was over; it was absurd to pretend otherwise.

"Tony," she almost simpered as she somehow cuddled closer to him, "you're right, anyone can celebrate Valentine's Day in February, I want to celebrate Valentine's Day in November every year."

His beamed and smiled, he should have known she'd love this idea. He'd touched her romantic heart and he was pleased she was made so ecstatic by the gesture. He answered her with a simple, fond, "ok, Angela."

"And I want to celebrate Valentine's Day in February too," she giddily pronounced.

His smile became broader, he hadn't expected anything less from her and he never had any intention of dropping February 14th from their repertoire. He placed his hand over his heart as if swearing an oath, "it shall be as you say, Angela, any whim you desire shall be yours," he stated as though he was a knight of the realm seeking favor with his lady fair. He might as well have knelt at her feet and bowed to her, so devout was this vow.

Angela looked at him, wondering if he was teasing her a little, but the look in his eyes was sincere and she loved him for it. The look on her face turned from blissful to almost predatory as she contemplated her whims for this evening. There were so many desires to choose from, she almost didn't know where to start.

Tony saw this change come over her and decided it was time for this Valentine's Day to take its privileged place in the history of their romance. But first, a practicality; "Angela, as much as I don't want to say this, we have to clear away dinner and everything else in here so there is no evidence left behind."

She sighed, he was right. Unless they wanted the rest of the family to know about them, they had to clean up. She gave serious consideration to this thought, but then discarded it because she and Tony were having so much fun with their secret. "True," she agreed and with that her mood temporarily changed into a slightly more sensible one. She got up and started clearing the table. Tony rearranged the furniture and between the two of them the living room was back to its normal self in a short time. Now all Angela had to do was figure out how to get the champagne, the glasses, the brownies, the roses, the champagne truffles and themselves upstairs in only one trip. She was eyeing the roses when she heard Tony fiddling with the stereo. She thought he was turning it off so she was surprised when she heard music instead of nothing.

Frank Sinatra, of course; she turned to protest, romantic as this was, she didn't need the added enchantment.

"Some day, when I'm awfully low, when the world is cold, I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight…"

Tony was holding a hand out to her, a silent plea for just a little more patience in his eyes. She acquiesced and took his hand, he pulled her close, and sang to her, "…there is nothing for me but to love you and the way you look tonight."

Angela stopped, looked him directly in the eye and said very gently, "Tony, honey, I love you. We've danced so much through the years, I love dancing with you, but I don't need to dance tonight. And you know your singing makes me want to drag you to any private area that happens to be nearby, so why are we still standing in the living room?"

He stroked her cheek and in his eyes she saw something she almost never saw there, nervousness. What could he have to be nervous about? He couldn't possibly think she'd suddenly decided to banish him from her room, could he? It was ridiculous to even consider.

He took her hand and led her to the couch.

Bewildered, Angela followed; at least the couch was a step in the right direction. Angela paused mentally to note that the couch was actually a step in the opposite direction from the stairs, but hopefully the couch was part of Tony's grand plan for the evening. Angela decided to just go with whatever he had in mind, so far the evening had been wonderful, if a little slow paced; there was no reason for that to change now, on either point.

She sat down, but Tony didn't; in fact he turned and took a couple of steps away from her.

"Tony?" she said in exasperation.

"Sorry," he said as he sat down next to her. Seeing an out, he grabbed the box of chocolate from the table and opened it for her, "care for a chocolate?"

Of course she wanted a chocolate, but she was hoping for a much better option tonight; sharing these truffles in bed was at the top of that list. Giving up, she reached for the chocolate.

"No, wait," Tony pulled the box away. Now he was just asking for trouble. "Sorry, Angela, I want this to be perfect and I realized you might be mad at me if you had chocolate on your fingers."

"How about my being mad at you for not being able to get to the point of having chocolate on my fingers? Tony, enough; I'm going upstairs, and I am taking the chocolates with me, since you obviously have no interest in anything other than teasing me tonight." She tried to stand up and reach for the chocolates, but Tony clasped both her hands to keep her on the couch and blocked her from the chocolates by kneeling on the floor in front of her.

They looked at each other, Angela seated on the couch, Tony on one knee, holding her hands. If she hadn't been so angry with him at the moment, Angela might have been able to see this for the romantic moment it was.

"Angela, stay with me for just a little bit longer, please."

"Fine."

This wasn't working the way Tony had planned, of course, he reflected, this was his own fault. You cannot offer a woman chocolate, then take it away with suffering some very nasty repercussions. Then again, that hadn't been part of his original plan; it was something that happened out of desperation.

"Please don't be angry with me."

"I'm not angry." Yes, she was, and they both knew it.

He caressed her hands. In methods to appease her anger, this didn't hurt.

"Tony, I feel like I am missing something. You carefully put all this together, did you really expect the evening to end with us shaking hands and going our separate ways?"

"No, of course not."

She leaned in closer to him, "then why are we here?"

"Because I love you."

"I love you too, which just brings us back again to the, 'why aren't we upstairs' question."

"Angela…," he closed his hands around hers a little more tightly, "you've been my strength through some of the most difficult moments of my life."

Now Angela was starting to become a little afraid, whatever he had to tell her was big. Was he sick? Leaving? Her anger disappeared, leaving compassion and a lot of fear.

"I don't know what my life would be like without you in it and I don't even want to think about what it would be like if we had never met."

Angela thought that was a very sweet thing to say and if she didn't know better she'd swear Tony was proposing. A sudden realization hit Angela so powerfully that she gasped and gripped Tony's hands more tightly than he'd thought possible. She'd waited so long, so very long for this proposal, kept thinking that it would happen in some far off future, or sometimes never at all, that when the moment was finally here, she almost missed it. It was obvious now, his nervousness, the planning, the wanting everything to be perfect; she now even forgave him for taking the chocolates away. He was right, she wouldn't want chocolate on her fingers for this.

"Tony, I don't want to think about my life without you in it either, and the thought of what my life would be like if we had never met, I can hardly even bear to say the words, let alone think about it."

They looked at each other, Angela tried to blink back a few tears, it didn't work. Tony reached up to wipe them away. They kissed.

"At least you aren't angry with me anymore."

"Hardly."

"Good."

They looked deeply into each other's eyes for a few moments and smiled. Angela's tears dried up and Tony felt it safe to continue.

"I love you…"

"I love you," Angela whispered back.

"Will you marry me?"

"Oh, Tony," she brought her hands to her face. She'd imagined the words so many times; but even her most elaborate fantasies were no match for the reality. The reality touched her to the core of her heart and soul. She was breathless.

It would be cruel to keep him waiting, so she threw her arms around him and kissed him, eventually managing to pull herself away long enough to rest her forehead against his and say, "yes, I will marry you."

"I was hoping that's what that kiss meant," now he really was teasing her.

"Tony," she laughed, then drew away and smiled at him. They were engaged. Finally. Her smile grew. They gazed at each other, both blissfully happy that this long awaited stage in their relationship had been attained. Angela hoped it wouldn't take another seven years for them to actually make it down the aisle.

Tony now had another bridge to cross. In his pocket was a small box; the kind from a jeweler, the kind that usually carries a diamond ring in it, which this one did. One of the most difficult decisions he'd had to make when planning this evening was the choice between buying the ring himself or waiting until after they were engaged to purchase. He knew Angela might have some very specific ideas about an engagement ring and he might not be able to afford those ideas on his own. She might want to contribute some of her own money in a show of solidarity. In the end a co-purchase didn't feel right to him, he decided to buy the ring on his own.

It was time to give her the ring and if she didn't like it, he'd do his best not to be hurt.

He pulled the box out of his pocket and opened it for her.

"Wow," was all she could say. For some reason she thought Tony just hadn't had time to buy a ring. This seemed silly now, a man who'd put this much thought into a proposal not finding the time for ring shopping? What had she been thinking?

She didn't hate the ring; he saw that in her eyes, all he saw was love.

"Wow," she said again, "Tony…," she could find no other words and those tears were threatening to return. She held out her hand, he pulled the ring out of the box. As he placed the ring on her finger, her tears evaporated as a beaming smile took over her face; in fact it took over her entire being. He smiled at her, inwardly marveling that all his worries had been for nothing; she obviously loved the ring.

Angela felt the ring being placed on her finger; it was such a wonderful sensation, Tony's hands touching her, the feel of the ring as it slipped on her finger. They were engaged; really engaged, she was still delightfully becoming accustomed to this turn of events. The diamond now on her finger helped, there was no greater proof of engagement than a ring on one's finger. She admired the ring, it was beautiful; a round solitaire in a yellow gold setting, she couldn't take her eyes off it.

Tony smiled and didn't let go of her hand, the ring graced her finger exactly as he had hoped it would. It was classic and elegant, just like Angela.

"Wow," she said again.

"That makes this a three 'wow' ring."

"I could think of other comments, but I'd rather do this," and with that she leaned forward to kiss him, folding her left hand around the hand that had never dropped hers once he placed the ring on it.

Some time later she stopped long enough to whisper, "Tony, sweetheart, do you think we could go upstairs now and celebrate our engagement?"

"Yes, Angela, we could."

"Good," Angela surprised him by rising from the couch very quickly; she'd been so starry-eyed he'd begun to doubt her ability to walk, let alone stand up. But stand and walk she did, which was convenient because carrying her would not be an option if they wanted to bring up the champagne, glasses, chocolates, roses and brownies in one trip. They were quite pleased with themselves for managing all the appropriate accoutrements; and even more so for remembering to turn off the stereo, for Frank had ceased serenading them some time ago.

Upstairs they celebrated, both glad for the privacy afforded by the absence of fellow members of the household.

The sun streaming through the window the next morning woke Angela. Her new ring glinted in the beams. Angela held the ring up in front of her face, moving her fingers to watch the sunlight play on her diamond. She was still in awe of the ring and everything it represented. She felt a kiss on her cheek, she turned to the bestower of that kiss and smiled, "good morning, sweetheart," she said as she touched his cheek, and returned his good morning kiss.

Now Tony was in awe, Angela was radiant this morning, "you're sparkling even more than the ring," he said. It was the truth. He picked up her hand and kissed it, idly twirling the ring around her finger.

She amazed him by somehow beaming even more brilliantly, she sighed, "fiance," as though she was trying the word on for size. Deciding she most definitely liked that word in relation to Tony, she said, "that's the most beautiful word in the English language." To emphasize her point she kissed her fiance again, pushing him on his back; thereby enacting Tony's one and only plan for the day: not leaving the bedroom, except for food. Maybe.

At family dinner the following Sunday, Mona, Jonathan and Samantha saw something different in Tony and Angela; although they couldn't discern what it might be. Mona finally decided to chalk it up to a very good weekend alone. Jonathan didn't give much thought to it at all; his mom was happy and that's all he really cared about. Sam was contemplative; it was obvious that her Dad and Angela were happier than ever, and she was curious as to the reason; she was also frustrated because there was no way she could come right out and ask them what had changed.

Angela was being sneaky and not wearing her new engagement ring; it tortured her to take it off, but she compromised by putting it on a chain and attaching it to a bra strap so it was near her heart. When they went to bed that night, Angela discovered that being bereft of her engagement ring during the day wasn't as bad as she thought it was, for when Tony placed the ring back on her finger it was as though the ring held a magic charm that transported them from their daily existences to their own enchanted world. This became a daily ceremony for them, as Angela would be wearing her ring to work in secret. Each night worked its magic spell, creating their own world of rapture, a world sacred to the two of them.

There were plenty more Valentine's Days in their life together, some they were even eccentric enough to celebrate on February 14th; and even though none of them were bad, in fact, they were very, very good; Angela would always say that November 15, 1991 was the best Valentine's Day ever.