A/N: Are you following the cuts between locations? I hope so. It's so hard to write for Andy. He has no personality on the show, and in my story, his whole thing is being a dynamo in the sack.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Closure II

Saturday, December 22, 1990

Tony wanted to kiss her. He was dying to hear her say that they had broken up, freeing them to act on all the buried feelings that had been stirred up in therapy. Instead, she looked back up and said, "It was alright. He's working today, but I'm going to see him this evening."

Sam came downstairs, slowing halfway when she noticed that her dad and Angela were sharing a moment. When he dropped his hand and stepped back, she called down to them. "I'm in. I'll go to the chamber orchestra thing."

"Is the whole family going to be there?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, the Gilberts and both sets of grandparents are going. You can meet them, just be cool about it, ok?"

Angela put her hand between Tony's shoulder blades. "We'll be cool, right Tony?" He looked at her and nodded dumbly.

"Got any grub?" Sam asked.

"I can make breakfast sandwiches," he said, darting off to the kitchen.

"So, when are you going to get your stuff out of my car?" Sam asked Angela once they were alone.

"Soon, I promise. Can we talk for a second?" Sam nodded and allowed Angela to sit her on the couch.

"I wanted to apologize if I made you feel like what happened was because you were irresponsible. Something similar happened with me recently."

"You're not…are you?"

"No, but I could have been."

"Angela, no offense, but you need to get your shit together. You and dad both. I know you've been going to couples counseling, but have you even admitted that you're a couple?"

"It's complicated."

"Well, un-complicate it. Work through your issues and start a normal relationship. I want to see you and Dad get married before Jonathan graduates. He deserves to have two loving parents and a stable home after all the disappointment of having Michael as a father."

Angela's chest tightened up and her vision began to blur with tears.

"I'm sorry to be so harsh, but I love you. I don't want to see you waste any more of your life running away from the truth." Sam pulled a stiff Angela in for a seated hug, then got up and went into the kitchen.

After Tony and the kids had breakfast, everyone dressed nicely for the concert. They piled into the Jeep and went to New Haven, following Angela's directions to the closest parking for the gallery. Wendall had saved four seats behind his parents and grandparents, and he sat next to Sam, holding her hand. Jonathan skimmed the program and pointed to it, showing his mom "Sandi Gilbert, oboe."

Afterward, coffee, tea, and hot cocoa was served with shortbread and sugar cookies. Tony and Angela mingled with the Gilbert family while their children chatted. The Gilberts were about to celebrate their twentieth anniversary on New Years' Eve.

"Twenty years!" Angela admired. "That's great. Congratulations!'

"We had Wendall right away. You two must be coming up on that milestone yourselves."

"Oh, we're not married. We've only known each other for six years."

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry. I thought Samantha and Jonathan were siblings."

"They sure act like it," Tony said.

"Well, when you do get married, let us know where you're registered."

Angela laughed. "That is so kind of you." Tony wondered why she didn't correct the assumption that they were together. Did she really think a wedding was in their future? If so, why was she wasting Andy's time?

After the reception, they parted ways, piling back into the Jeep and stopping for a late lunch of soup and salad. By the time they got back to the house, it was almost five o'clock. Mona was sitting on the couch, reading a novel. "Did you have a good time at the dork-estra?" she asked.

"Mother, don't be cruel. It was a very nice program." The kids ran up to their rooms after a quick greeting. "I need to head over to Andy's pretty soon."

"I have an errand to run, myself," Tony said. "Will you be home for dinner? Or at all?"

Mona raised her eyebrows. What was going on with Angela and Andy now? Weren't they done?

"I'll be home. We had a late lunch, so could we do dinner around eight?"

"That would be perfect." Angela decided not to change out of her cranberry blouse and matching long skirt. She put her coat back on, warmed up the jag, and drove to Andy's house.

When Angela left the house, Mona handed Tony the postcard she had found that morning. "You should get going. They close at six."

"This isn't what it looks like," he said. "I'm just replacing a damaged item."

"I don't need to know any more. Go now. Whatever you're getting, she's going to love it. Just don't put it under the tree."

When Angela arrived, Andy had only been home for a few minutes, but there were several candles burning around the living room. "So, your test results?" she asked.

"Why don't we sit down and relax? We can talk." He tried to pull her toward the couch, but she shook her hand free from his grasp.

"If you could just show me those lab reports and get my belongings, I'd appreciate it. I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"What's the rush?"

"I need to go to the pharmacy before they close."

"For what?"

"Birth control pills, not that it's any of your business. Can we get this over with?"

Andy got up and went into another room. When he came back, he had several sheets of paper in hand. Angela took them and squinted. "Can you turn up the lights?" she asked.

"The last time I was with someone was more than six months before the test, and I've only been with you since," he explained. "So we're good to go."

"What did I leave behind?" she asked, skimming the report.

"Toothbrush, razor, deodorant."

"Throw them away. We're done," she said, thrusting the papers into his hand and walking toward the door.

"Wait, Angela. We can work this out," Andy pleaded, running toward her.

"Don't you understand? There is nothing to work out. I haven't shed a single tear over you. We don't belong together."

Angela left a catatonic Andy standing in his entryway. She checked her watch and drove to the pharmacy. The assistant took her payment and sent her to the consultation line to wait for the pharmacist. "New method of birth control?" she asked.

"I haven't used this brand before. My doctor said on the phone that if I start taking it on the last day of my period, it'll be effective immediately. Is that true?"

"Well, you're clearly under 150 pounds. As long as your cycle has been regular and you're not taking antibiotics, then yes, you should be fine. Just remember that this won't protect you against HIV or any other sexually transmitted diseases."

"I understand. Thank you," Angela confirmed.

Tony walked into the boutique and handed the postcard to the sales associate. She looked something up in a binder, then led him to a rack in the middle of the store. "I'm sorry, sir, but this size has already sold out again. Can I suggest something similar?"

"Uh, sure."

"Is this for your objet d'amour?"

"Huh? Oh." Tony rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, it is."

"Is this someone you already know well?"

"Uh huh."

"And is she…adventurous?"

"Um…." He thought back to Marty's Melody Room. "You could say that."

"I'd suggest this one," the associate said, holding up a black teddy on a hangar. It looked close enough to the one he had thrown away.

"I'll take it," he said, looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody was watching.

"Very good, sir. This is $78, but with a $75 purchase, there's a free gift," she said, walking to the register.

Seventy-eight bucks? He would have to scrimp for the next month or two to replace his savings, but it was worth it. "Thanks," he said, pulling four twenties and a ten from his wallet to cover sales tax. "I'll take the receipt," he added, putting the slip of paper in his wallet.

When Tony got home, he jotted a note and left it on Angela's bed, along with the shopping bag. When he found out the old teddy was unavailable, he had hoped to replace it after she broke up with Andy. That didn't appear to be happening, even after his admission of love, so he began to settle into acceptance.

There was a time when he had been unselfish in his gestures of affection toward Angela. In recent years, he had to admit that he was more transactional. Dr. Sweetin was right. He needed to give without asking for anything in return.