October 1983 – Fairfield, CT

"Don't forget to say, 'Thank you'!" Angela called to Jonathan.

"I won't!" Jonathan ran up the walk as fast as his costume would allow. Angela couldn't see his face through the perfunctory eye holes of his He-Man mask – she was a little surprised he could even see the ground in front of him – but she could hear the smile in his voice. That felt good.

An older woman answered the door.

"Trick or Treat!" Jonathan yelled dutifully.

She placed a wrapped popcorn ball in his pumpkin-shaped bucket, and Jonathan turned around to run. Before she shut the door, Jonathan spun back around.

"Thank you!" his muffled yell projected.

The lady chuckled, "You're welcome, honey."

Jonathan's tiny, plastic-covered legs swished quickly back down to the sidewalk, "I got a popcorn ball!"

"Oh, that was nice of her!" Angela smiled widely.

"Yeah!" Jonathan cheered, running to the next house.

She smiled after him. I'm glad I wore sneakers!

"Hey," Michael's voice came up quickly behind her.

Startled, Angela turned around and returned a smaller version of the same. "Hey."

Michael slowed his jog to a walk, and easily caught his breath. She smiled at his rolled-up flannel shirt and jeans. He looks like he's dressing up as the Brawny paper towel man tonight. But this is who he is. Strong. Outdoorsy. Sexy as hell...

"What?" he smiled.

Angela shook her head, still unable to shake her smile, "Nothing." Her hip bumped into his. "Sometimes you just irritate me."

Michael smirked and leaned down close to her ear, "Yeah, I know the feeling, there, chief." He gave a covert little swat to her butt, and her forward-facing smile deepened considerably. She didn't have to turn her head to know he looked satisfied.

They followed Jonathan to the next house and waited on the sidewalk. "So, how's work been?" she asked.

Michael shook his head and growled. "It's a bear. These scientists are driving me nuts."

Angela's face pulled from Jonathan on the front porch to what Michael was saying. "Oh?"

"Yeah, we've mapped out where we believe the gorillas are based on my recon in the area, but that was three years ago. I can't give them all the exacts they want. I know they want results – they're paying out the ass for this trip. But not all science goes according to a formula, ya know? I know my guy can get us in there. We'll find them. But they're just going to have to tell their sponsors the itinerary is kind of open. It's not like we're trying to fucking joyride."

Jonathan ran up to them just then. Angela shot Michael a maternal look, shushing him at the same time Jonathan yelled, "Daddy!"

Michael rolled his eyes at her, and ruffled Jonathan's hair. "Hey, there, little tiger!"

Jonathan straightened his mask, and let out an only-slightly annoyed, "Daddy!"

"So, who are you?"

"He-Man!" Jonathan roared with his arms probably flexed under his costume.

"Ah, of course." Michael peered into Jonathan's candy bucket. "Looks like you've got a good haul, so far."

"Yup! I'm going to that blue house next," Jonathan sprinted off and left them to drag behind.

Angela folded her arms as she walked, "Do you have to swear in front of him?"

Michael gave her a bemused smile, "Is it all mothers, or just you, who think kids aren't going to hear cuss words if the dads stop saying them?"

Angela rolled her eyes and watched Jonathan run. "So, what's with these scientists? They want you to control animal behavior?"

Michael scoffed, "Who knows, but we've been butting heads for months. This is just the latest argument. Talbot's had to mediate so many times, he almost forced that promotion just to ease the tension." Angela's head spun to look at him. "I mean, I get it: this is lot of money for the Institute, and he doesn't want it screwed up. But they're not taking this from me! This has been my project from the beginning. They're the ones who are coming along with me, not the other way around."

Feeling the weight of their own history, as well as that of Michael's with his parents, Angela tried to tread carefully. "On what project was he wanting to put you?"

Michael glanced at Angela before squinting straight ahead. He let out a long sigh, "…Never mind. I probably shouldn't have said anything." He reached around and briefly squeezed her opposite shoulder. "We're doing our best as it is."

Angela felt tight. She knew Michael had been trying to do this Africa trip for years. But something about all that sat funny. A promotion? Taking him off the job? To do what? How would that make things more difficult for us?

But he clearly didn't want to talk about it and pushing wouldn't help. Instantly feeling antsy, Angela reached down to hold Michael's hand. She wouldn't hang on his arm, but she wanted to.

Michael looked at her and then down at the hand she was squeezing tightly. His brows furrowed, but he didn't say anything. Walking hand in hand, looking straight ahead, they trailed Jonathan through the neighborhood. Angela just tried to breathe.


"So, you're done with Skeletor, and now you're attacking my candy bowl?" Mona said wryly. She jostled her bright orange bowl. "Leave some for me, will ya?"

Jonathan sheepishly dropped half his fistful of fun-size candy bars back into the bowl. "Sorry, Grandma," he tried to get past the mask.

"Yeah, yeah, bub," she whipped her head toward the couch. "Go switch the channel to something good. Some lamebrain left my TV on some boring grown-up stuff. Word has it there's a Charlie Brown tape by the Betamax."

Jonathan ran to the TV and fixed up the programming with ease. He plopped onto the couch, his bucket in his lap.

Mona watched him get settled, and then yelled, "And don't eat any of your neighborhood loot until I can look through it! There're some real sickos out there!"

"Okay, Grandma!" he said, pulling his mask up to the top of his head and opening one of her candy bars.

Mona turned back around to look at Angela in the doorway.

"Thank you, Mother."

"Eh, sure. With all this homework, I've been missing my buddy, anyway."

Angela smiled, "He's missed you, too. But he'll probably try to eat his whole bowl, so if you could watch that..."

Mona's mouth and eyes opened widely, "Is that what children do these days?" Angela rolled her eyes. "I just thought that was every other generation!" Mona clasped Angela's hand in hers. "Thank you, for the warning."

Angela withdrew her hand and shook her head as she walked away. "Thank you, Mother," she said dryly, waving over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow afternoon."

Mona watched Angela walk away, then called loudly down the hall. "Remember, it's Halloween, but it's not a Halloween costume unless you're showing something you normally wouldn't!"

Angela's head dropped to her chest, willing the elevator to hurry.

"And get yourself some sugar!"

Exasperated, Angela yelled back without looking at Mona. "I'm married, Mother!" And you don't know that half of it.

"I said what I said!"


Angela hurried in the back door to see Michael drinking a beer with his feet up on another kitchen chair. "Hey, pretty girl!" He smiled, raising his can in salute.

She halted, and looked over his undone fatigues and backwards Army cap. "GI Joe on a coffee break?"

He smiled widely and shook his head, "Bill Murray from 'Stripes'!"

Angela's eyes widened but her slightly delayed smile placated his humor. The one movie he likes…

"Ahh…okay, well, I won't be long. Wendy said 8, so we don't have a lot of time."

Michael chuckled at her. "Nobody shows up to a house party on time, Angela. You're good. Take the time you need."

Angela's lids lowered, but she pushed through the swinging door without a word. We are so different.


Angela looked at herself in the mirror, and then over at the clock. Maybe he's right. Maybe another half hour wouldn't be the end of the world. Angela got out her make-up box and set to work slicking on sharp eyeliner and bold colors to match her outfit. She left her hair in a tucked French braid, as much to save time as to show off her wings. I have the best job! Not everyone can snag a Broadway quality costume from the supply closet. Adding a touch of glitter to her cheeks, arms, and eyelids, Angela stepped back and twirled in front of her mirror. She smiled. Like a butterfly princess. Angela grabbed some sparkly heels from her collection and hurried downstairs.


She was bent over, sliding her heel in over her finger, when Michael came into the living room. He stopped cold and stayed there as she stood up, facing him. The slit in her breezy, brightly colored, floor-length gown went nearly to her hip. The twisted halter draped the low-slung top barely against her, and glittery fairy wings clipped onto the back.

"…We did a commercial for a perfume company a while back," Angela explained hurriedly. Even wanting her husband's attention, present circumstances made her nervous. "It's good to have connections, no?"

His face, which hadn't moved since he walked in, started to smile. "Oh, it's very good."

Angela laughed a little, "Where'd you get yours?"

"My what?" he said blankly.

"Your costume," she prodded.

"Oh- um…my buddy, Kevin, used to be in the Army… He uh- damn…" Michael breathed sharply. "You look stunning," he said, absently wiping his fingers over his mouth and refusing to blink.

Angela smiled a little lopsided, her face getting hot. Instead of being only too thrilled with what she could still do to him – and she was – this time, she had to share it with some very unwelcome sense of sadness. There was something…lonely about it. Sure, what he'd been saying just then may have been a little inconsequential, but she was starting to understand this practice probably transferred to what actually mattered, too. As soon as we turn the other one on, is nothing relevant anymore?

Michael finally walked toward her, "Are you okay?"

She nodded insistently. I'm not doing this now. I'm going to a party, and I'm going to have fun.


Angela and Michael could hear Joan Jett's I Love Rock and Roll coming from Wendy's house as they walked up. A brief thought of La Torre wisped through Angela's mind, but she shoved it down before it fully formed. She wanted to have a good night.

They rang the doorbell and waited, making little smiles at each other. I wonder if he's remembering Panama, too? Shit! Angela shivered her thoughts away to keep them from telepathically seeping into Michael's.

Wendy opened the door and her beautiful blue eyes lit up. "Ahh! You look gorgeous!"

"Aww, shucks, Wendy," Michael smiled demurely.

Angela and Wendy rolled their eyes but gave him the laughs he was due. They came in, and Wendy took the shawl Angela had wrapped around her arms.

"Michael!" Herb came up in a Superman costume and slapped a cold beer into Michael's hand.

"Herb! …Thanks!" Michael followed good naturedly.

Michael hadn't spent much time with anyone in the neighborhood, but Angela figured he'd give anyone handing out free booze a chance.

Herb put his arm around Michael's shoulder, "Come on. You've gotta see my new smoker. You can fit five fish in there!"

Michael glanced at Angela, and shrugged as Herb led him to the back deck.

"You look gorgeous, Wonder Woman," Angela said, redirecting her attention to her hostess.

Wendy looked down at her chest and nodded, "Yeah, I'm thinking of making bustiers a regular thing."

Angela laughed, "As should we all."

Wendy's sparkling smile nodded them toward the kitchen, "Come on. We've got better drinks than beer."

Candles flickered all over the darkened house, but Herb had installed the occasional purple bulb for accent. Cobwebs, spiders, and skeletons were littered about, a fog machine cranked somewhere nearby, and a tape of howling and rattling chains played amidst the music. Angela looked around, unable to think of more festive arrangements. She and Wendy made their way to the kitchen where several other ladies had congregated.

"Isabel!" Angela reached for a hug. She let go and laughed, looking her up and down, "Morticia is a good look for you!"

"You think I can pull off being a brunette?" Isabel asked, uncharacteristically self-conscious.

Angela and Wendy both glanced at each other, then nodded emphatically. "OH, yes," they answered together.

"So, what have you got here?" Angela said, leaning over a big, black stockpot on the counter.

"Well, this is an iced grape punch, but you can add whatever-" she waved her hand to the many glass bottles on the counter, "you want to it."

"Ahh! Don't mind if I do," Angela scooped herself a glass. She hesitated a second before reaching for the bottle of Smirnoff. Angela poured the clear liquid into her already bubbly purple drink and stepped closer to her friends. She spoke a little quieter, and they squinted their eyes to hear her better. "Listen, I haven't had any of this particular stuff since…you know…but I don't think that was the vodka's fault." She bit her lip for a second, then sped up. "Just in case, if you see me do anything – questionable – would you maybe speak up, or- or light me on fire, or something?"

Isabel and Wendy froze.

Then Isabel pointed toward the buffet table. "Eat a stuffed mushroom. Right now."

But Wendy snagged Angela's elbow before she could leave and leaned forward to whisper, "When you say, 'questionable', does that include with Michael? What's normal?"

Angela thought for a second, glancing between her two best friends. "I have no idea…" Angela put her hands out to the sides, "Ya know what? Never mind. I'm just going to let whatever happens happen!" Walking free of Wendy's grasp, Angela took a sip and went to eat some buffers.