A/N: I apologize for this being a day late. There were some personal things that took priority. I hope this will make up for it though. As always, please read and review and enjoy. xo - nik

Her hair is Harlow gold

Her lips sweet surprise

Her hands are never cold

She's got Bette Davis eyes

- Bette Davis Eyes / Cover

"It's the first time I feeI like we're a real family."

Angela turned to her mother, still reclined on the sofa next to her, and felt her heart skip a beat at the word Mona had just uttered. Family. Angela couldn't remember the last time she'd felt like she had a real family. She supposed it was sometime in her marriage just after Jonathan had been born. That had been the pinnacle of her marriage to him. It all had fallen apart after that with the lipstick on Michael's collar after Jonathan's first birthday and the fights that had gotten more and more common. Tony had been with them for just over a week and already Mona was declaring him as part of the family. Angela's voice was soft, fragile, as she questioned her mother, "A family?"

Her mother grinned like a cat that ate the canary. "Yeah. After all, we're the only three people in the world that know about your mole."

Angela visibly winced as Tony muttered something in Italian while her mother beamed proudly at being able to make a joke at her daughter's expense. Angela had long ago decided that was one of Mona's favorite talents. Her mother laughed as she looked between the two adults, her arms wrapped around each of their shoulders. It was clear she was up to something, though Angela wasn't clear on what it was.

"You know, Tony, you're all dressed up. It would be a shame for that to go to waste."

Angela rolled her eyes and sighed, "Mother, not everyone views not going out for the evening as a sacrifice."

"Yeah, but he had plans made. It's a shame he won't get to go out and enjoy the evening."

"If you're so concerned about it, Mother, then why don't you go with him?"

Mona freed them from her arms and stood up, smoothing her hands on her slacks, "Oh no. I couldn't possibly let the kids down. They were so looking forward to an evening of games and my scintillating conversation. Besides, I never turn down Cornish hen."

Tony glanced out the corner of his eye at Angela on the sofa. He shrugged and tilted his head as he chimed in with Mona in a low tone, "I am one hen short for dinner." He chanced another look Angela's way and was met with her dark eyes staring at him. "Whaddaya say, boss? Dinner?"

Angela blinked at him in stunned silence. Her jaw hung loose as she fought a valiant battle in her head to find words, any words, to articulate. "Oh I don't… I don't know. I'm not really dressed." She gestured down at her purple velour sweatsuit and pink sneakers. "I was planning on staying in and just working on the new campaign for this new perfume. We're doing a preliminary presentation in a few days and I…" she caught the subtle movement as Tony nodded and looked down to his folded hands in his lap. They'd come so far since that first night when he'd almost clubbed Grant with his baseball bat. She inhaled deeply, licking her lips and sighed. "I suppose I could go change." He perked up at her comment and she chuckled. "Is there some kind of dress code I should be thinking of while I get dressed?"

"Nah. Bongo Burger's pretty casual. Just be comfortable."

She nodded and moved to the stairs. She paused halfway up the staircase and leaned over the bannister to him, "Just give me 10 minutes, huh?" And then she was gone in a blur of purple fabric and blonde hair.

Mona waited until she heard the door upstairs close and turned to Tony with a pointed stare. "Bongo Burger?"

"Aye oh, oh aye. I'm behind the eight ball here, Mone. It's too late for a reservation and I can't afford a really fancy place. Come on. It'll be nice. Not like this is a date or anything. I'm just taking her to dinner."

"Tony, my daughter hasn't been wined and dined alone by a man who wasn't a client in a long time. I don't care if this is or isn't a date. Get her out of the house and doing something."

He nodded as she headed into the kitchen, leaving him alone with his thoughts. This wasn't a date. He kept repeating it to himself. A woman like Angela wouldn't date him. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror by the front door and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't too bad looking for a guy. He'd never had any trouble with catching the eye of the opposite sex but he'd also never looked at a woman like Angela as a possibility. His eyes drifted down to his white button-down Oxford, his blue sweater that had begun to pill, and his khaki dress trousers. Whatever she came down in, he doubted it would be something that came from a discount store like his clothing had. He imagined that a woman like Angela shopped in the classy boutiques and designer brand stores in the city. She wasn't out at K-Mart or Salvation Army looking for pants and shirts.

"Is this okay?"

He glanced up as she came down the stairs, her hair still piled up in her messy bun, but the outfit was entirely different. A soft pink, pattern knit, turtleneck sweater complemented the bright magenta ribbon in her hair, while her long legs were covered in a pair of tight, dark denim jeans. She'd put her pink sneakers back on over her slouchy white socks that completed the look. She was casual and comfortable… and stunning. He nodded in response to her question and tucked his hands in his pockets, doing his best not to stare too long at her legs, remembering every detail of the way they looked when he'd seen them completely bare earlier. Despite his promises that he hadn't seen anything and that he had a lousy memory, there was no lying to himself. He remembered it all. Every inch of tanned, smooth skin was etched into his mind, and so many questions lingered in the wake of the memories. He hadn't seen any tan lines. Did that mean she was tanning nude at some establishment? How often did she go? Her legs and intimate area were well groomed, smooth and flawless. He couldn't imagine that that was the result of shaving. Waxing, he surmised, was the only other option. He glanced up her lean body and was met with pursed lips and a raised eyebrow.

"Didn't see anything huh?"

He shrugged and chuckled, "Okay, okay. Maybe I saw a little. You know, you've got great…. Knees."

She snorted a soft laugh as she grabbed her purse from the chair and pulled it over her shoulder. "Right. That's what you looked at. My knees."

"Some women have very knobby knees." He opened the door, guiding her out first and shutting the door behind himself as he continued. "You've got great ankles too if it makes up for anything."

Her side hurt from laughing as she sat in the plastic booth at Bongo Burger with her paper tray holding a half eaten burger and fries in front of her. It wasn't often that men could entertain her with stories like this. There was something refreshing about his stories from the old neighborhood. She finally regained her ability to breathe as she calmed down from her laughter and covered her face with her hand. It had been long time since she had laughed that hard with someone. She sighed as she smiled at him across the table. A silent moment passed between them. His elbows were on the table with his hands folded under his chin, and his dark chocolate eyes were focused on her. It felt intimate and private, even with the other people in the restaurant around them. She'd discovered that Tony had that ability. The man could look at her and no matter who she was around, no matter where she was, no matter what was going on, she felt completely alone with him. She swallowed the metaphorical lump in her throat and picked at her fries. "I know I'm not who you really wanted to spend tonight with." She kept her eyes downturned at the fry in her hand, being torn apart and toyed with. "I'm sorry I ruined your date, but I have to admit," she paused as she lifted her eyes to him and caught her lower lip in her teeth for a brief second before continuing, "I'm kind of glad it worked out like this I'm having a really good time."

Tony smirked and leaned back in the booth, propping his elbows up on the back of the headrest and nodded. "Yeah me too. That Italian place she wanted to go probably had really lousy food anyway."

Angela rolled her eyes, her lips tilting up higher at his comment. "Well, still. Thank you for bringing me out instead."

He tilted his head. "Aye, forget about it, Angela. I'll just call it working over time."

Her jaw dropped as her brow furrowed. She threw the torn apart fry at Tony while chuckling. Bastard. He reached for it and popped it into his mouth. "Thanks. I'm all out of fries." Angela tsked her tongue and shoved her tray toward him with the fries closest.

"By all means, help yourself."

He stole another fry from her meal and took a bite. All through dinner, he'd been thinking about what Mona had said. He couldn't afford anything really fancy, but he wasn't ready to take her back to the house yet. If it had been as long as Mona had indicated, maybe what she needed was a little fun. "You ever bowl, Angela?"

"Bowl?" Her eyebrows disappeared behind her blonde bangs. "With the ball and the alley? Uh, no. I'm not…" She paused and shrugged. "Michael always said I wasn't good at sports and I should avoid them. So, aside from a rogue game of tennis opposite Wendy or Isabel at the club, I don't really…" she shook her head.

"Okay, then." He brushed his hands off and gathered their garbage, carrying it over to the trash and throwing it away before he was standing at the side of her bench with his hand outstretched to her. "Come on."

Angela grabbed her purse and put her hand in his as she stood, letting her fingers linger in his grip for a long moment. "Wh… where are we going?"

"Uh… bowling. I thought I made that pretty clear."

"Oh, Tony, really. I don't know. I'm not going to be very good."

"Hey. Everyone starts somewhere and, from what I'm hearing, I've got a lot to teach you about so let's go, Suburban Princess."

15 minutes later, with the ugliest pair of shoes she'd ever seen on her feet, she was staring at a pink and white swirled ball in Tony's hand with serious trepidation. "I put my fingers where?"

He sighed and tugged her up from the plastic swirling seat and slipped the ball into her two hands. His body moved behind her and he moved the ball so the three holes faced upward. "You put your fingers into the holes." He guided her three fingers closer to them. "And then you roll the ball down the alley to the pins."

Angela huffed and slid her fingers into the holes, not outwardly asking how often the balls were sanitized, and making a mental note to wash her hands thoroughly once this was all over. Without thinking she pulled her elbow back and stopped when she heard tony's exclamation of pain and felt her elbow sink into something soft. "Oh, Tony!" She turned over her shoulder and bit her lip at him doubled over in pain.

"Lead with the ball, Angela. The ball. Not your elbow, Jeez. I think you broke a rib."

Even he couldn't keep up the facade of over acting too long with the long that she was giving him. He reclaimed his spot behind her. One hand on her waist, the other cradling the ball in her hand. He guided her to the edge of the alley, and helped her roll the ball down the length of the lane. It stayed true to it's destination, taking down half the pins in her first roll. Angela yelped in joy and turned to him, "That was good, right?"

He shrugged, "Wasn't too bad. Gonna have to get the other 5 down now."

"How many chances do I have for that?"

"One."

She frowned and he nodded at her, "So we'll practice. You're going to get better."

As the game came closer to a close, with Tony's score substantially higher than Angela's, she turned to him. "You know, the kids would probably enjoy this. They have the arcade and pizza." If her mother was right, and they really were becoming some semblance of a family, then maybe they needed to do this more often, and with the kids. Her son already adored the man, and she was slowly warming to his ragamuffin daughter.

He scoffed, "Yeah. We can do that. Maybe in teams?"

"I'll take Samantha?"

"Sure you don't want Jonathan?"

"Now how fair would that be?" They changed their shoes, then headed out to his van with the playful, easy air between them continuing all the way home. The house was dark and Angela glanced down at her watch. "Oh. Gosh, it's later than I realized." She waited until the van had been parked then followed him into the kitchen through the back door.

"You, uh, want some tea or something?"

She shook her head, the sudden shift in energy reminding her of being a 13 year old girl on her first date, wondering if the Jimmy Sitarski would kiss her on the doorstep after taking her to the movies. She rubbed the back of her neck as she pushed through the kitchen door and dropped her purse on the long console table behind the sofa. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, turning to face Tony with a shy smile and shrug. "I uh, I know I said it before but I really am sorry about your date."

He shook his head. "Don't sweat it. This was nice. Good to see you laugh."

"It was nice to have a reason to." She leaned down, brushing a light kiss to his cheek then blushed as she pulled back. "Goodnight, Tony." She turned and headed up the stairs quietly, not seeing Tony's hand come up to cover his cheek where her lips had left a butterfly kiss.

"You did good, bub."

Tony whirled around to see Mona laying on the sofa, half asleep but with a grin on her face.

"Might be some hope for you after all."

The delicate beginning rush

The feeling you can know so much

Without knowing anything at all

And now that I can put this down

If I had known what I know now

I never would've played so nonchalant

- Come Back… Be Here / Red Era