A/N: I changed the overall rating on this story to an M, therefore individual chapters won't have specific warnings for this anymore.


Addendum #1.2 – "Angela's Ex pt.1"

February 1985 – Fairfield, CT

Angela lightly fingered the space behind Michael's right ear. He kissed her deep and grave, rocking up on her like he was calling her name. She kissed him back in swirling grief and want.

Her other hand slid up his side; he was just as cold as she. Her eyes glanced open, and she saw the same sincerity in the kiss she felt. She loved him, and it devastated her.

This is a dangerous game.

Gathering her courage, she swallowed and pulled back just enough to whisper, "Do you want a condom?"

Michael dropped his face to the side of hers. "Fuck," he breathed.

She waited in silent torture as seconds ticked by. The situation was awful. She was still mad. She was still hurt. And she still wasn't sorry she'd slept with Grant. But she couldn't exactly reconcile what was going on here, and he had a right to protect himself.

Michael lifted his face back in front of her but didn't open his eyes until he was all the way there. "Did you use one with them?"

"Yes."

"Are you still on the pill?"

"Yes."

A second or two went by.

He swallowed and answered straight-faced. "I'll risk it."

Angela's brows pinched ever so slightly. "Are you sure?" she asked softly.

Michael's face tightened, "I'm not using a rubber with my wife."

She stiffened a little at his presumption but didn't say anything.

His eyes flickered away, then back to her eyes. "That'd be worse," he explained quietly.

The trauma on his face looked much like her own. They'd danced around in the shadows of it before, but now they were face to face, in the full, infernal light of it. She had to ask.

"Have you been with anyone else?"

Michael glared sharply, "No. I've been a little busy."

Angela made a muted head nod of acknowledgement, refusing the bait. I am not apologizing for this.

He stared at her for many seconds, and slowly his eyes lost their edge. She barely heard him when he asked, "Did he do it for you?"

A frown briefly altered her forced composure. "What?"

Michael exhaled and made the faintest eye roll but remained serious. "Paxton. …Did he do it right?"

Angela's eyes shut as she turned her head and breathed. Taking a moment to herself, she looked back at him. "I'm not talking about that with you."

Michael stared enigmatically at her for a long time. Eventually, his breaths became more pronounced. He closed the gaping inches between them, again, with open eyes. She felt like he was reading her, and likewise kissed him back.

But it was all seeming like a game again, and Angela wanted to break the spell. She just wanted to show him how much she loved him and let them both experience it together.

Closing her eyes, she slipped her hands in the sides of his boxers and gently rubbed his hips and butt. Michael rocked toward her, and she let out a contented breath. He shifted to the side of her, only letting his knee rest on the inside of hers. He continued to kiss her carefully, but he did shut his eyes. Reaching down, he slipped his hand in her panties and started to stroke her thoughtfully. Her kisses intensified as she lightly held his active bicep.

Angela responded demonstratively, squeezing his arm, contorting and groaning honestly. She opened her desperate eyes to see him smiling at her. She returned it with a sheepish laugh.

Michael looked down at her underwear. "I think you're ready." Winking at her, he let go and climbed down by her hips to pull off her panties. She shifted into the middle of the bed, and he opened her knees, settling his face between her legs. Angela raked her fingers through his hair and held onto his head as he worked his mouth all over her. She closed her eyes, and her body dealt with the pleasure the best it knew how.

Drifting her hands away from his head, she started squeezing her breasts. Michael looked up and let his fingers take over while he watched her. "You are so hot," he marveled. She smiled widely but didn't stop. He went back to work, teasing her mercilessly.

Unable to take anymore, she dipped her hips, arched her back, and brought her hands to her forehead. Squeezing her eyes open, she yelled out a massive gasp and laughed shyly.

Now grinning, Michael dropped his boxers, crawled up, and put himself inside her while she was still breathing hard. He had to catch himself on his hands as he dropped forward, gasping. "It's been fucking forever," his breathy voice managed, and he shuddered as she clenched around him.

Angela received a shot of- Is that guilt? Oh, hell no. – and shaking off the discomfort, she tried to just let him be where he was.

She gripped his butt tightly as he started to make himself at home. She loved how he felt. She loved watching him enjoy her. Maybe it's not guilt. Maybe I'm just sad. This is how she wanted to feel with him all the time, and she'd missed it.

Michael took care of her in bed. He protected her. She felt like the most important thing in his life when they were in bed. She knew he was stronger, but she never felt weak with him in bed. She'd do almost anything for a man like that. This is who she wanted to be with. With a covert swipe to her eyes, she set about to make him feel just as treasured.

Combing her fingers along the side of his head, she looked earnestly into his eyes and spoke low. "You feel amazing, Michael. I love how you fill me."

At the start of his smile, he thrusted into her harder. Prodding him with little moans, Angela wrapped her arms behind his neck and kissed him thoroughly.

Michael had to hold himself up on his arms, and she continued to take advantage of her free hands as he worked. Even through the rough hits, she tightened on him, reacquainting herself with the muscles across his shoulders and down his torso.

He slowed down to watch what he was doing, and she flipped her wrist toward him, palming and encircling him. He looked back up at her and smiled, and she hooked his neck with her other arm, pulling him into a deep kiss. Angela was wholly enjoying his compromised state, but she brought both hands up behind his neck as he picked up the speed.

Michael started to groan, and she pushed him off her. Taking the cue, he flipped onto his back, and Angela devoured him with all she had in her. He lightly held her head, lifting to meet her mouth, and ended in a staggered yell.

Beathing heavily, they both looked at each other and smiled.

When they caught their breaths, Michael shoved the blankets down to the end of the bed and pulled her elbow up to him. "Get up here," he smiled.

She obliged and flopped down on her back next to him, wiping the sides of her mouth with her fingers. But he sat up fast and crawled back down, getting her again.

And again.

And again.

"Michael!"

He popped his grinning face up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Still shaking, Angela was trying to get her breath. "Michael," she breathed. "Really; I'm great. Thank you. Why don't you come up here? Just- just be with me."

With a quick parting suck that made her lurch forward and twist to the side, Michael crawled up playfully to lie down next to her. She kissed his mouth and laughed, "I'm not going to be able to walk!"

Michael smiled widely, "Mmm - You'll just have to stay with me."

Her smile sobered a bit, but she trailed her fingers down the back of his left jaw. "I've really missed you." What she meant to be flirty ended as the start of a cry, and she lifted her chin to look at her headboard, hoping the swelled tears wouldn't overflow.

Michael leaned in and kissed her mouth. Pulling her into his arms, he held her snugly. The tears did fall, then, but neither of them mentioned it.

Burrowing her head into his neck, Angela relaxed her whole body with his. They held onto each other for a long time, feeling the outside light turn more and more yellow.

"It's a pretty day," Michael finally said, running his fingers through her hair.

"Yeah," she smiled up at him. "You ready to get a shower?"

He grinned. "You ready to go again, already?"

"No, no!" she hurried. "You got me good!"

Michael laughed, "Good."

"Do you want more?" she asked, eyebrows up.

He kissed her forehead. "Nah, I'm good for now... Seriously, watching you get off like that," he exhaled sharply, "that was the hottest thing."

She smiled and kissed his neck sweetly. "Okay. Well, it's almost 6:30. I'm going to need to get ready for work."

He scrunched his brows at her, "I thought you were having trouble walking."

She grinned at him, "You are such an ass."

He grinned right back, "You know you love me."

Her smile subdued. "Yes, I do…" Collecting herself, she flicked her brows up and finished a little louder, "-But I do need a shower."

"I dunno..." He sniffed her neck like a dog. "I kinda like that smell on you."

"Ew!" she laughed. Snagging a pillow from behind them, she casually whapped him on the face with it. She sat up and turned around, "Come on. Don't make me shower alone - not after that."

She yanked on his arm, and he semi-fake growled, "Arrrrgh!"


"Cool shower cap," Michael teased as he snapped the elastic lightly on the side of Angela's head. She stepped out of the shower, where he handed her a towel. She took it, smiling a 'thank you'.

"Hey, don't knock the shower cap," she said as she flung it on the counter. "This thing lets me sleep in. If I had to wash and blow dry my hair in the mornings, I'd have to wake up at least an hour earlier."

He blinked at her. "Women are weird," he said blankly.

She walked backward into her bedroom smiling vexatiously, "And aren't you glad?" toweling off as she went. "Do you have to get to work?"

"Yeah, but I think I'll head in late today - take it easy."

She smiled, "Sounds nice. Wish I could join you."

Before he could comment, she walked to the closet, and called out from inside. "I actually found a few of your old clothes while I was remodeling." She rummaged around and brought out a banker's box. "I think I remember there being some pajama pants in here, if you want to be more comfortable."

Michael gave her a lengthy stare but didn't comment on her nonchalance. "Sure," he said quietly. "Thanks." He opened the box and found blue pajama bottoms. Putting the box on the bed, he looked into it as he pulled on the pants. "Well, otherwise, it looks like there's a cargo vest, one black sock, and a wife beater in here, but that's about it."

I hate that term. She looked at him drolly, "Charming…"

He ignored her comment and reached for her elbow. "Hey. You sure you had a good time?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she said, confused. "Of course."

He stared at her for a few seconds. "You're sure?"

Angela tilted her head and gave him a parental look. "Michael, yes-" But then, realizing the issue, she backed off. Her voice got low and throaty and lacked no sincerity. "That was never the problem. Ever."

Michael kept staring at her. She was starting to get nervous.

He's so cautious and unsure of himself… Why wouldn't he be, Angela? Sheesh. Give the guy a break.

In her head, she knew this wasn't the same thing, but it was starting to feel a little like Panama again. And yet, it was worse. If he weren't being so hesitant and sweet, she knew she'd be ready to claw indignantly for her side of things. But he was, and she felt the way she felt. She was uncomfortable. He was uncomfortable, and she was itching to fix it.

Watching his face with growing sadness, Angela dropped her towel. Michael's gaze took in her body as she stepped up to him. Putting her arms up around his neck, she kissed him softly. She walked them slowly backward until they sat on the bed, being careful not to trip on the blankets piled at the floor.

Angela kept kissing him intently as she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently, but solidly, onto the mattress. If this is how he knows, he's going to know it.

She pulled her outside knee up as she turned to straddle him.

"Angela!" Tony hollered playfully, banging on the door.

Michael's eyes shot open in fury. "Oh, hell no!" Sitting up, he held Angela's waist so she didn't fall, but put her to the side of him, fast. Kicking past the blankets, Michael stomped toward the door as Tony rambled his lighthearted wake-up call.

Uhhh…

Michael swung open the door. "What the hell is going on here!?" Michael stormed at the dumbfounded, but quickly sobering, Tony.

Okay, I didn't plan this far in advance.

Snatching an armful of blanket and sheets, Angela covered herself haphazardly, and without thinking, her nervous giggles took charge. She pushed Michael to the side and shut the door in her best attempt at patronizing the situation away.

"What was that?" Michael glared at her.

She stood there in frozen humiliation.

When she didn't answer, he pursued. "You shush me last night, cuz'a this guy. Now you're shoving me out of the way? Why is it he can be here, as loud and annoying as he wants, and I can't even have sex with my wife?"

"It's not that simple, Michael. I didn't plan this. I didn't let him know-"

Michael's scowl instantly hardened.

She rambled on, "...not that he's the gatekeeper of my sex life-"

Michael's pupils flared, even as she thought, Bad choice of words.

Angela took a quick breath and continued nervously, "But we have a certain order of things, here, and two kids, and…it's just complicated!"

Michael's breathing steadied, but it was still strong. He exhaled a slow stream of air and stared dubiously at her for a good minute.

Her nerves increased the more she thought about the situation brewing downstairs. She didn't want to start sweating again, and she felt the need to regain control. But she hated the thought of being a tease; that wasn't her heart at all. She wanted to please Michael, but the clock was ticking.

Finally worn down by the tug-of-war, she gave up and looked at him sadly, "Michael, I'm sorry, but I really do have to get ready."

His glare returned with a determined puff of air. He took a long stride toward her and grabbed her waist.

He kissed her, deep, intense, and long.

Gasping, Michael pulled back, and looked in Angela's stunned eyes with what she could only describe as fear. "Don't forget I'm here."

Their maverick breathing hovered above the ruined mood, mocking her as she stumbled toward her robe and reigniting that mysterious esprit de corps in her heart.

What did I just start?