A/N: If you have any questions or concerns, drop a comment. I do expect this story to be pretty long, but I don't know how much time it will cover, if that makes sense.
Chapter Three: Witness
A few nights later, Tony laid awake thinking about how they'd landed in this situation. It all started when Sam's grandpa Nick escaped from prison. He and his Sambina had a nice little reunion before she went upstairs to start her homework. Angela and Jonathan stayed out of the way, mostly because criminals made her anxious. Well, she wasn't wrong to be worried. Tony accidentally walked in on Nick canoodling with Mona, then asked to speak with her in the living room.
Before they could discuss anything, a shot sounded from the kitchen. Nick's lifeless body was slumped over the table, and Tony saw a man flee through the back door. He told Mona to run upstairs and call 911. The rest was a blur. Tony positively identified a mugshot of the killer, and he was informed that there was an entire crime ring involved. They were likely to go back and take out any witnesses. The fact that the hit had happened in the Bower house was a big problem. All five family members were offered protection.
After two days in a local federal building, a plan was presented. Tony's van would be sent off an embankment and the coroner would declare all five passengers dead. Initially, WITSEC agents planned to relocate Angela, Mona, and Jonathan separately from Tony and Sam. Angela was the one to advocate for the family to stick together, since Tony was still in shock from seeing his father-in-law murdered. "We have to be relocated to the same city," she said.
"It's not safe for both families to stay in contact."
"Then keep us in the same household." Her tone was growing more insistent.
"We don't place unrelated people together, Mrs. Bower."
"I don't care what you normally do," she protested. The agent suppressed an eyeroll. He had dealt with more than one rich, entitled witness in his career.
"Ma'am, you can't just demand to bring your household staff into protection. Mr. Micelli has a right to live his own life." The statement was plainly ironic; Tony Micelli's life was over. The man who had carried that name would soon exist in a fabricated reality.
"Tony doesn't want to leave me," she said confidently. "The five of us operate as a family." Since the shooting, Sam had been clingy. At one point, with Tony and Mona too caught up in their own grief to attend to her, the teen had crawled into Angela's lap and sobbed about all the things she had lost in her young life, most of all, her mother.
"She's right," Tony finally spoke up. "You can't separate us. We're best friends, and we depend on each other. Our kids would be devastated," he said, conveniently failing to mention that he would also be bereft.
"Are you comfortable posing as married parents of both children?" the agent challenged, sure that their resolve would crumble.
"Yes," they replied in unison. What could be more comfortable? Michael Bower had already agreed to allow Angela full latitude in deciding what to do with Jonathan. He wanted to keep the boy safe, even if it meant he couldn't see him.
x
Angela had been sleepless for hours. Both of her roommates were snoring, Mona right next to her, and Jonathan in the other bed. She crept through the connecting door, hoping to share Sam's bed for the night. Tony sat up and whispered across the room. "Jess? Is that you?"
"It's me, Bobby. Couldn't sleep." The names were starting to grow on her. Tony hustled her into the bathroom and closed the door. The fan would be too loud, so he kept the main switch off, relying instead on a dim vanity light. They stood in close proximity in the small, dank space.
"I wanted to talk to you, Angela," he said. It was the first time anyone had said her real name in days.
"Tony," she said, just to hear the name out loud. His face betrayed a sense of relief, and he sighed.
"Do you think we're making a mistake, going in together?"
"No, I, I," she stammered, then paused and gathered herself. "I wouldn't be able to make it without you."
"Are we going to be able to convincingly pretend to be married? We can't sleep in the same bed. We can't kiss…." He trailed off.
"Maybe we're putting too much pressure on ourselves," she said. "We've slept in the same bed before."
"That was different," he protested.
"Why?"
"It was on accident, or because we had no choice."
"We have no choice now. And what about the kissing? Why is that so different?"
"Because I wanted to kiss you before," he whispered. All at once, he remembered catching her during their flour fight and the way she had moved her lips against his.
"Do you not want to now?" she asked. It came out teasing and flirty, and she looked at his lips in the dim light.
"It's not that I don't want to, it's just that there's a government agency demanding it." The pressure of keeping the family safe was crushing him. He had already failed to defend Sam's grandfather.
She put her hand on his cheek. "Bobby, who cares about some government agency? I want you to kiss me," she said. She didn't seem apprehensive, as she had during their recent attempt. Her expression was inviting, with wide eyes and slightly parted lips.
"Jess," he breathed. "God, Jessica, you're beautiful," he said, sliding his hand into her straight brown hair. It was thrilling, yet he felt the nag of his conscience. It was Angela he wanted to be kissing, not Jess.
"Oh, Bobby," Angela sighed, tilting her head and receiving Tony's mouth with her own. After a few seconds, they pulled away.
"That was so much better," he said. Something had awakened in him.
"It was better, wasn't it?" she confirmed, unconsciously licking her lips to prolong the sensation.
"Can we try it again?" Tony didn't wait for an answer. He kissed Angela several times in succession, never lingering too long or opening up to her. It was strictly a rehearsal. He shifted away with a smile.
"I'm feeling good about this," she said. "But I think I should go back to bed now."
"Are you going to sleep with Sam?" he asked. "You don't want to wake up your mother." The truth was, he wanted to keep her close.
"Yeah, sure," she replied. They walked to the center of the motel room together and shared one more chaste kiss before slipping into their separate beds. Angela sighed and smiled across the chasm. "Night, Bobby," she whispered.
"Night, Jess."
