Author's note: You might need a glass of cold water for this one!
This takes place in late season 7, sometime between "Starlight Memories" and "Tony and Angela Get Divorced"
Tony looked at the shredded remains of what had once been Angela's lacy, black teddy and wondered what the hell he was going to do about it. Although washing his boss's unmentionables no longer caused anxiety quite like it did during his early years as a housekeeper, the evolution of their relationship into something more than strictly employer/employee brought a whole new array of emotions about handling her intimate-wear.
But he did it, because technically it was his job, and all the while tried desperately not to think about what she looked like wearing nothing more than the little slips of silk and lace that made their way into the laundry. It also never escaped his notice when a new piece was added to the collection, or an old one stopped showing up. It was a side of Angela he knew about, but never acknowledged.
Although they rarely, if ever, spoke about the personal details of laundry, he wasn't sure he could avoid it this time. Somehow, the teddy hadn't made it into the mesh laundry bag for lingerie, and as a result had wrapped itself around the agitator during the spin cycle. After a half an hour of trying to disentangle it, Tony decided the only way he was going to get it loose was with scissors, thereby further ensuring its ruination.
Afterward, sitting at the kitchen table with the decimated teddy, he considered his options. He supposed he could replace the torn piece and just hope she didn't notice it was missing in the meantime. But he didn't know which store it was from, what brand it was, or even how much something like that cost.
He could break their unspoken cardinal rule of unmentionable laundry by mentioning what had happened, but how exactly did one begin such a conversation with one's boss and best friend? "Hey Angela, by the way, where do you buy your lingerie? I need to get you a black teddy." Like that wouldn't be awkward.
Neither option was ideal.
Well, he probably had a little time before she noticed it was gone, which gave him time to do some research.
By some miracle, three days and nine stores later, he found what he believed to be the same style of teddy at Pretty in Pink Lingerie. Having washed the piece many times over the years, he felt confident the design was identical. The price tag, while steep for so little material, wasn't unreasonable. With a sigh of relief, he slipped the new garment into her drawer, grateful for an easy resolution, and considered the matter closed.
Two weeks later, the clandestine shooping trip was long forgotten in Tony's mind. So, when Angela came into the kitchen late one evening as he was cleaning up the dinner dishes, he never could have anticipated the conversation that would follow.
"Tony, do you have a minute?" she asked hesitantly.
"Sure, of course, what's up?"
Angela's eyes darted around the room as she nervously twisted her fingers.
"Um, well, I'm not sure exactly how to ask this, but do you know anything about some new clothes in my room?"
"Angela, not for nothing, but new clothes tend to show up in your room on a fairly regular basis," he retorted with a smirk.
She nodded in admission but continued. "True, but this was something a little more, um, how should I say it? More … personal. And I didn't buy it."
Like a lightening bolt hit him, Tony realized what she was talking about.
"Oh, right, you're referring to the, um …"
"Yes, the …"
"Yeah, the black one …
"... in my drawer."
Back and forth they fumbled and stumbled over their words, trying to avoid giving a name to what they were talking about.
"So, you do know how it got there?"
Tony nodded, "Yeah, I uh, kinda tore the other one, and I tried to replace it without having to tell you."
She looked confused. "You tore it? How?"
He clarified hastily, placing the blame squarely where it belonged, "It got tangled up in the washing maching and was all wrapped around the agitator. I had to cut it loose with scissors."
Angela flashed to an image of Tony holding her most intimate garments, which she usually did her best to avoid thinking about.
"Oh, why didn't you just tell me? I could have gotten it and saved you the trouble."
He scuffed his feet against the tile and avoided her eyes. "Well, you know we don't usually talk about that part of my job, and I just figured I could replace it without you being any the wiser." But then the reason for their current conversation finally dawned on him, and his impulsive curiosity caused him to ask, "So how did you know? I thought I got the same one."
Now it was her turn to blush and look away, not having considered he'd ask this particular question.
"Uh, so, items like that, they sort of fit a certain way, and you kinda get used to how they feel. So when I …" she faltered, then took a deep breath and continued, "when I put it on today, I could tell it was different. The material was stiff and new."
Tony's mouth went dry, and before he could think, he rasped out, "So you're wearing it now?"
His eyes coursed over her body with rabid intensity, and suddenly all he could see was what he knew was beneath the knee-length skirt and smart, navy blouse.
The flush in Angela's cheeks deepened even as her pulse quickened. Caught between self-awareness and a sudden rush of desire, she met his eyes, and his question, quietly but head on. "Yes, I am."
She wasn't sure which one of them took the first step closer, but the five feet between them had gradually dwindled to one.
His voice deepened as he asked, "How does it fit?"
The close atmosphere was filled with everything they were thinking but not saying, specifically that regardless of the reason, Angela was wearing a whisp of black silk that Tony had shopped for, selected, purchased, and placed in her dresser for her to discover. The intensity of the realization was overwhelming and caused Angela to abandon all caution.
"Perfectly," she replied, "I've had it on all day, wondering if it came from you."
Tony gulped air and managed to offer, "I'm glad you like it. Maybe I'll get to see it on you one day."
Angela's eyes widened as her confidence wavered at his boldness. The path was getting dangerous.
Closing the final few inches between them, she brought her lips to within a millimeter of his. "I hope so," she whispered, before closing the gap.
Like their first kiss in the kitchen six years earlier, this one left them both breathless and sober.
When Angela reluctantly drew back, she knew the road they traveled was entering new territory, and she was suddenly eager to begin exploring.
Maybe she would ask him to pick out her lingerie more often.