A/N: Welcome back to Fairfield, dear readers! Please temper your expectations, as this story will roll out at a slower pace than its predecessor.

Chapter One: PHX-JFK

Monday, November 24, 1986

"Ladies and gentlemen, that patch of rough air is behind us, and we anticipate a smooth ride for the duration of the flight. The captain has turned off the Fasten Seat Belt sign, and you may now move around the cabin; however, we always recommend keeping your seat belt fastened while you're seated. As a reminder, this is a non-smoking flight."

Tony watched Angela knit her brows together and press her thumb into the inside of her wrist, the way he'd taught her on the winding road to their first stargazing date. He pulled a ginger candy out of his seatback pocket and offered it to her. "Thank you, sweetheart. Could you get me some more water and crackers?"

"Sure, baby," he said, double checking that an airsickness bag was within easy reach. Jonathan had already been sick, whisked away to the lavatory by Tony before Angela caught sight, sound, or smell of the event.

Mona and Sam gave Tony a look as he passed through the cabin. They had opted to sit together four rows behind the rest of the family. "More vodka for the little lady?" Mona joked.

"Just trying to prevent another episode," he responded vaguely to avoid alerting the other passengers that it was his kid who had been sick in the lavatory. He continued down the aisle, leaving them to chat.

"When do you think they're gonna tell people?" Sam asked. "It's getting kind of obvious."

"Soon. Two or three weeks at most," Mona guessed.

"It's gonna be so weird when everyone finds out they're married."

"Oh, I think the shocker is going to be that we've all been alive this whole time. Those two hooking up was guaranteed to happen at some point."

"Well, they'll be surprised when you go down to the Y and take your number off the men's room wall," Sam teased.

Tony greeted the flight attendant. "Me again," he said apologetically.

The flight attendant wore a practiced smile when she turned from her task to give the passenger her full attention. "Fourteen D. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like some water and crackers, please." It was Tony's third time in the galley, and the flight was only halfway to New York. Last time he had wanted ginger ale and a full cup of ice.

She opened a secure compartment full of snacks and pulled out two packages. "Sorry about that turbulence we had earlier. Your wife and son are really prone to motion sickness, aren't they?" she asked, pouring water into a cup.

"They are, but my wife is also ten weeks pregnant. We're trying to keep it quiet for a little while longer before we tell the rest of the family." He held the cup and crackers and turned his head to look up the aisle toward his loved ones' seats.

"Aww, congratulations," she said, reaching to give his bicep a little squeeze. She was pleasantly surprised by the passenger's strong build and lingered for a moment too long, letting go only when his wife stood up and looked back.

"Thank you. We're really excited," Tony said. He had been itching to openly share his good fortune with someone for weeks. "My daughter and mother-in-law aren't bothering you, are they?"

"Eighteen A and C? No, they've been lovely."

"How do you remember all your passengers?"

She shrugged. "It's a gift."

"I'm glad they're behaving," he told her. "Hey, when is the meal service?"

"In about an hour."

"Thanks." He made his way forward and set the water and crackers on Angela's tray table before sitting down and fastening his seat belt again. Jonathan was fast asleep against the window.

"She's cute. You have a good time flirting back there?" she seethed, opening the package.

"Stop it. I was just making conversation to be polite." He refrained from mentioning that he had been annoying the flight attendants on behalf of Angela and Jonathan the entire flight.

"You seemed pretty happy to be talking to her. To have her feeling your muscles."

"I was telling her how excited I am about our baby. I never expected her to touch my arm like that."

"Sorry. I'm just cranky. I feel like crap," she said, stuffing a cracker in her mouth and chasing it with a swig of water.

"I know, baby. We've got to get you another doctor's appointment when we get home." They'd only gone to an initial prenatal appointment at the beginning of November and been given a due date of June twenty-first.

"There isn't much they can do. I should start feeling less sick in a couple of weeks, when I go into my second trimester. Of course, I'll be even fatter by then." She'd tried to control her food intake over the past week but had ended up gaining another half pound anyway.

"You don't look fat. I've been telling you the truth about that," he insisted, lifting the armrest between them out of the way and wrapping his arm around her. She had definitely filled out up top, but he didn't mind that. "Are you very tired?"

"Yeah," she said, tears springing to her eyes. She sobbed quietly into her husband's chest as he held her close.

"They're serving dinner in an hour. Why don't you try to catch a few Z's right now?" he asked, but she was already out, drooling on his sweater.

They had had a rough week. First, they learned that, after nearly a year in hiding, they were going to leave the Witness Protection Program and their life as Bobby and Jess Moretti in Mesa, Arizona. They'd informed their kids that they would be going back to Fairfield, Connecticut as Samantha and Jonathan, not Jen and Chris. Not that they'd be going back to the way things were before their collectively staged accidental death. Sam and Jonathan were stepsiblings now, their parents married in a supposed vow renewal on the second anniversary of Tony's employment as a housekeeper.

Worse than telling the kids, they had to give Mona the news that she would no longer be Cassie Walsh. Cassie's boyfriend, Ricky McEvoy, was under contract to buy a house in Mesa. He lost a couple of thousand dollars breaking the deal once he was informed that the Morettis were moving to Connecticut. He'd been aware that something was off about the family almost from the start, but Jess had practically told him they were in witness protection and assured him that they were not criminals. There was a tentative agreement that Mona Robinson, as he now knew her, would return to live with him in Phoenix for a few months. The couple still needed to figure out a long-term plan. They hadn't even talked about how the Morettis came to live in Mesa.

Tony and Angela laid awake at night discussing the impending change. This was the second time in a year that their lives had been upended, and he had to remind her how well everything fell into place after they went into hiding as a family. Returning to their true identities should be easy. They simply needed to renew their relationships with the people in their familiar community. It was nothing compared to being left in the desert to build a new life from scratch.

Alright, that wasn't fair. They had been set up in a nice house with jobs waiting for them after the holidays. So, they lived paycheck to paycheck for a while. That was the way many people lived their whole lives. Both Mona and Angela had adjusted to their reduced circumstances with minimal complaints. Each of them was an intelligent, resilient, family-oriented woman in her own way.

Tony rested his cheek against Angela's head and closed his eyes, his thoughts returning to six weeks earlier, when they'd found out their summer project of making a baby had finally been successful.

"Angela. Come on, honey, you have to get up," he'd urged.

"Why?" she asked, burrowing further into her pillow."

Tony squatted by her side of the bed. "I want you to take a pregnancy test. Please."

"I don't wanna pee on a stick today," she mumbled.

"That's what you said the day before yesterday, but you still haven't gotten your period. Don't you wanna know?"

Angela threw back the covers and sat up, giving Tony space to sit on the edge of the mattress. "If it's negative, my whole day is going to be ruined," she told him.

"You're never this late. And you've been so tired."

"Yesterday was a really rough day," she reminded him. She had gotten up early, put in a day's work, and shuttled both kids to the doctor and dentist before coming home and taking a nap.

"I know, baby. How are you feeling now?" He had brought buttered noodles for her to eat in bed the night before, hoping that the bland, starchy meal would stave off nausea.

"Eh. Not great," she admitted.

"Humor me, Angela. I need to know whether you're pregnant or sick."

"Fine," she huffed, storming into the bathroom. Tony had left a test on the counter. She set the used test on the top of the toilet tank when she was done and went back to bed, ignoring her bewildered husband. "I can't look at it," she confessed once he climbed back under the covers and spooned her.

"I love you so much," he told her when she began to quiver and shake with fear. "Do you want me to tell you what it says?"

She turned over and nodded through her tears. He kissed her face all over until a weak smile broke out. "Go get it," she said, feeling more hopeful.

Tony glanced at the clock and got up to read the results. He saw two blue lines as he approached the toilet to pick up the plastic stick. "Yes!" he whispered, pumping his fist. He couldn't stop his body from doing a brief celebratory dance. After composing himself, he walked out with the test behind his back.

Angela looked up and curled her fingers in a beckoning gesture. He slid back into bed and put his arm under her head, holding the test away in the other hand. She put her palm on his chest and met his eyes. "Tell me," she said with a chuckle, fully aware of the results from the irrepressible grin on his face.

He moved the test into her field of view. "We're having a baby," he said, tears forming in his eyes.

She glanced at the two blue lines and wrapped her arms around her husband. "We're having a baby," she echoed. He dropped the test as they poured their joy and exhilaration into a full-bodied kiss. Pretty soon, they were doing the very thing that had gotten them into this situation in the first place.

"How are you feeling now?" he asked when they were done.

"Wonderful," she cooed. "Can we keep this secret for now?"

"You don't want to tell everyone you're pregnant?"

"Not yet. I want to wait until it's confirmed and I'm past my first trimester. That's when most miscarriages occur."

Tony knew that Angela's perspective was skewed by her friend Sheila, now six and a half months pregnant at age fifty-four. She was doing rather well, but still had a high risk of premature labor. "Hey, I'm happy to keep this quiet, but you gotta think positive. You're still young, and it's more likely than not that everything will go perfectly."

"I know, but if something did go wrong, I wouldn't want everyone knowing about it."

"Alright, I understand."

Angela's doctor was able to squeeze her in for a pregnancy test the following day, and they celebrated privately with outlandish hopes and dreams for their youngest child. Tony worried about his wife twice as much after she fainted in her Tinkerbell costume on Halloween. He tried to give her ample opportunity for rest, but she poured her energy into her career, going in extra early to work on a project for a whole week and pushing herself through evenings with the kids. Finally, on the weekend, she crashed out and caught up on sleep. Meanwhile, she was going through snacks like there was no tomorrow.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in a few moments, the flight attendants will be passing through the cabin to serve meals. Coffee, tea, and soda are complimentary. Alcoholic drinks are also available at a nominal charge. Thank you."

Angela stirred, waking Tony from his nap. "I need to pee," she told him.

"Me too!" Jonathan piped up. "I've been waiting for you guys to wake up."

"Come on, honey. Let's go quickly before our meals are served," Angela said, following her son down the aisle to the lavatory. Mona and Sam were too engrossed in the in-flight movie to notice them. While Jonathan was in the compartment, Angela watched the flight attendant who had squeezed Tony's arm.

"How are you feeling, ma'am?" she asked, noticing the passenger's eyes on her.

"Fine, thank you," Angela said. Jonathan exited, opening the door with a paper towel just the way he'd been shown. He skipped back to row fourteen, crawling over Tony, who had moved to the middle seat. Angela sat down on the aisle just before their meals were served. It was getting dark outside.

Over dinner, Tony and Angela chatted quietly about re-engaging with their old friends and acquaintances. "Michael has been told we're coming home. I wouldn't count on him calling, though. I'll probably have to contact him and remind him to talk to his son."

"The neighbors will see us. They've probably already noticed activity at the house."

"The rumor mill will get going pretty quickly," Angela said. "And Diane Wilmington will probably come by to hit on you."

"Oh no," Tony said, shaking his head. "I wonder if Phoebe and Charles are still messing around."

"We're trying to avoid gossip, not contribute to it!" Angela argued.

"It could be useful for us, babe. Like once Mrs. Rossini finds out, the rest of Brooklyn will know, and I won't have to contact every single person separately."

"Should I call Wendy? Or go to see her? I'm afraid she's going to have a heart attack."

"Maybe you should tell Isabel first, then bring her with you when you tell Wendy," he jested.

"How are you planning to tell Paul?" she asked.

"Dr. Ferguson will hear from Marci. I hope you realize Sam is gonna have the phone line tied up for days."

"That reminds me, Tony. I have some thoughts about how to tell our friends back in Arizona."

"Well, let's hear them."

"OK, we create a one-page fact sheet and send copies to everyone we had at our wedding. It'll explain what happened, who each of us really is, and our plans for the future."

"That's not a bad idea."

"Well, communication is sort of my specialty," she bragged.

"About our plans for the future…" he started.

"Tony, I need to find a position as soon as possible," she interrupted.

He was confused. "I thought you had plenty of money saved up."

"I do, but I need to get back to work before I start…." She glanced at Jonathan and back to Tony. "…showing," she mouthed silently.

"I wanna find a job, too," Tony said. "I'm not about to prove the neighborhood gossips right about me being a gigolo."

"You've supported our family quite well," Angela said. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to look for work outside the home right now, though."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Mother is leaving for three months and the kids are going to need someone at home. I'm going to need someone at home. And you'll be going to school in January."

"I don't know that for sure yet."

"You can go to community college and continue working on your lower division requirements while you apply to Ridgemont."

"That's true," he said.

"Please. I insist that you keep progressing toward your degree. It's my turn to support us."

"Do you want us to handle our money the same way we have been? Joint account with a fixed transfer to each individual account?"

"We need to be flexible. It's more complicated now that there are investments to worry about. Could we continue talking through everything at least once a month?"

"Yeah. Course we can."

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into New York City. In preparation for landing please ensure that your seat back is upright and your tray table has been stowed. All carryon items must be secured in the overhead compartment or under the seat in front of you and your seat belt should be fastened."

"Dad, look at all the lights!" Jonathan said excitedly. Angela watched proudly as Tony leaned over their son's shoulder and started pointing out landmarks. The boy had never landed in New York at night before.

"Isn't this great? We're going home!" Tony said to her. His enthusiasm was adorable, but she felt overwhelming trepidation about re-entering their old lives.

After landing, Tony pulled their small carryon bags from the overhead bin. He handed Jonathan his backpack and clarinet. Angela had a large purse containing all of the family's important documents and a tote bag with the family photos and wedding album. Tony's duffel bag was full of outerwear.

The family gathered in the waiting area by the gate and began piling their belongings onto the floor. Sam deplaned wearing a backpack full of cosmetics and Mona carried a weekender containing her well-used polaroid camera.

"Put these on. It's cold outside and none of us are used to winter weather anymore," Tony said, doling out coats and scarves. It was crowded enough in the terminal that he worried about losing the youngest, least worldly family member. "Gimme your clarinet, Jonathan," he said. The boy's head snapped at the sound of his real name and he obeyed without question. "Hold this," Tony continued, giving his son the empty duffel. He hoisted him up with one arm and nodded to the rest of the group to start walking toward baggage claim.

A man in a black suit, holding a "Micelli" sign was waiting near the terminal exit. He was a federal agent, there to convert their legal identities, not a chauffeur at their service. Angela took Jonathan's hand and Tony handed him his clarinet, explaining that he needed to retrieve their luggage. Sam gave Mona her backpack and followed her dad to the baggage carousel. They had a system. Tony would pull bags off the belt while Sam loaded them onto a cart.

After the family's belongings were gathered, the agent led them to a van parked in the private transportation zone. Tony transferred the load and Sam returned the cart. A serious-looking woman occupied the driver's seat. "Yo, can Angela sit in the front?" Tony asked. "She gets carsick." Mona rolled her eyes at Sam.

"No, sir. She can sit in the middle of the second row and look out the windshield."

"That's fine," Angela responded. "I'll be OK," she said to Tony. He patted her arm as he crawled into the third row. Sam and Mona followed, while Jonathan sat with his mom in the second row. Before they began the journey, the agent stood by the sliding door and asked for their documents. Angela pulled an envelope out of her purse. It held birth certificates, driver's licenses, and social security cards for Cassie Walsh and the four Morettis. Everything else with their fake names had been left behind in the Mesa house.

"Here you go," the agent said, handing over another manilla envelope. Enclosed, Angela found their original birth certificates and social security cards, as well as current Connecticut drivers' licenses. Angela and Mona's had both expired while they were in Arizona and been renewed by the feds. The new cards bore their previous photos. The most precious document inside was Tony and Angela's Maricopa County, Arizona marriage certificate. She refrained from kissing the paper and tucked it back into the envelope before passing it to her husband. The agent slid the van door closed.

The ride was uneventful. Everyone stared out the windows, tired and anxious to be home. When they pulled up to the house, the agent handed Angela a set of house keys and let her open the front door while the others gathered their luggage.

"Oh my!" she gasped, turning on the lights and stepping into the strange and familiar living room. The power was on, but the house was freezing cold. All of the furniture was draped, and a layer of dust covered every exposed surface. A musty smell permeated the room. She drifted further into the house, spinning to look in every direction.

"Whoa!" Sam said, bringing in a pair of bags and setting them on the wooden bench.

Jonathan followed with his clarinet and both backpacks, dropping them on the desk in the entryway. "This place is grody!" The sound of the van pulling away was audible from inside the house.

Mona shut the door behind Tony as he brought in the remaining luggage. "What a dump!" she exclaimed.

"You guys, calm down. It's just a little dust. I'll have this whole house spic and span in no time!" Tony promised.

"Honey, you're not my housekeeper anymore," Angela protested.

"Well, I still live here, and I ain't no deadbeat." Simply being near Brooklyn seemed to bring Tony's accent back. He went to the thermostat and turned on the heat. Everyone kept their coats on inside the house.

"We're all tired," Mona said. "And I need to call Ricky."

"Mother, I'm not sure if the phone in your apartment works," Angela warned.

"This one does!" Sam said, holding the receiver up. "Can I call Marci?"

"No!" Tony said, taking the handset away and hanging up the phone. "It's past nine here. You're not calling anyone tonight."

"I'll go check on my place," Mona said.

Jonathan plopped onto the dusty draped couch and turned on the TV. "Aww, man. There's no cable," he said.

"Let's check out the upstairs," Tony said to his wife. Together, they pulled the canvas dropcloths off their children's beds, finding neat and clean bedding underneath.

"Honey? You're staying with me, right?" she asked, as he approached his old room.

"Oh yeah, of course I am," he said, correcting his course to the primary bedroom. They removed the third dropcloth and looked nervously at each other. "This is fine," he said in a high, pinched voice.

"We've been sleeping together all year. This is no different," she agreed, trying to persuade herself as much as her husband. It was finally warm enough to take off their coats. Angela hung hers in her closet while Tony held his awkwardly until she took it out of his hands.

"Mom, there's no food," Sam yelled on her way up the stairs. She barged into the primary bedroom as easily as Jen Moretti would have entered her parents' bedroom in Mesa.

"It's late, Samantha. Didn't you eat dinner on the plane?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, but I'm hungry again," she whined.

"Well, drink some water. We're not going to be able to get food until Angela's car is delivered."

"When's that?" the teen asked.

Angela spoke up. "They said first thing in the morning, whatever that means."

"Fine. I guess I'll get ready for bed," Sam said, turning to go back downstairs. "Jonathan! We have to starve until tomorrow!" she yelled.

"I saved a package of crackers for you to have in the morning, sweetheart," Tony whispered into his wife's ear as he hugged her from behind. They arranged their four hands over her slight belly and swayed contentedly.

"How lucky am I? You're always taking care of me," Angela said.

Mona appeared in the doorway, causing the couple to break apart. "My phone is dead and my heat won't kick on," she complained.

"You can stay in my old room," Tony said. "We'll get your place sorted out tomorrow."

"Thanks, Tone!" she said, ignoring her daughter.

"Hello?" Ricky said, picking up the phone.

"Hi there, big fella. We made it home."

"How was your flight, sugar?"

"Oh, we had the typical bad food and a bumpy ride. How was your day?"

Ricky cut straight to the point. "I miss you, Mona."

"I miss you, too, but I'll be back for your birthday."

"My calendar is marked. Will you call me every day until then?"

"You know it. I need to call the phone company and get service in my apartment tomorrow. Then we'll be able to talk in private," she said suggestively.

"I can't wait."

"How's Libby?" Mona asked, missing her little black pug.

"She's been snoring on the couch all day, but I need to go outside with her now. She doesn't like being in the dark by herself."

"Alright. I'll let you go. Love you."

"I love you, too, Mona."

"I feel like I'm fooling around with my boss," Tony admitted when they were well on their way to christening Angela's bed. Their bed, he mentally corrected himself.

"You don't want to?" she panted in surprise. "Because I was really hoping to, you know, relieve some stress. For both of us."

"I want to. I just don't know if I can," he said sheepishly. "What if your mother hears us?" he asked. It was a lame excuse considering how adventurous they'd been in Arizona.

"Bobby," Angela said, affecting a husky tone and a sexy pout. "You're not planning to leave me unsatisfied, are you?"

"Jess?" he asked, feeling an unmistakable surge of desire.

"Yeah, Bobby?" she asked, groping him assertively. "We can be them again, just this once," she whispered against his ear, giving him permission to roleplay as a man who had never been her employee, only her childhood sweetheart-turned-husband.

"Yeah, OK Jess," he agreed, rapidly losing his ability to communicate with words.