Marty & Angela's Hotel Suite: Saturday Morning.
In their hotel suite, Marty tickled a squealing Abby with a happy look on his face. Why, it just seemed a day ago she was still in diapers and today she was eight years old and a sweet young lady with her whole future ahead of her.
Of course yesterday she WAS in diapers and today she WAS eight years old.
Funny how that worked...
Angela strode into the room on stiletto heels, face delighted under a mound of teased hair and about an inch of makeup. "Marty, Abigail," she said. "It's so wonderful to see you both so happy. I never thought I would hear you laugh again since Danielle got into that terrible car accident. We made the right choice, coming back to Fandom. Nothing can go wrong for us here."
Yet, somehow, she knew it wasn't so simple. Things never were, and, with this return, an old worry had crept to the forefront of her mind.
"I know what you mean," Marty said looking up. "Now that we're back in Fandom and I no longer have amnesia, I'm positive that someone here will help find a cure for Marcella's rare fatal blood disease."
"Aunt Marcella and Aunt Danielle are going to be all better soon! Right Mommy?" Abby said with a bright smile of a child who has her entire future ahead of her.
"I hope so, darling," Angela said, trying to keep her voice from breaking. "There's something -- why don't you go get a cookie from the other room. I need to tell your daddy something."
"A cookie? It's not even lunchtime!" Abby exclaimed, hopping up and going to the bedroom before her parents could change their minds. "YAY!"
Marty watched her go, his smile fading from his face. He would never be sure which truth would hurt Abby more... that her father used to be a hit man, that she was born out of wedlock or that he gave birth to her as a woman. He turned to Angela, a serious look on his face. "What is it, Angela?" he asked in a grave tone. "You have the same look on your face when you heard that Rayanne confessed to the murder of Brian Krakow."
Of course he had only faked his death in order to exact revenge on Tino, but that was another story.
Angela shook her head and took a seat on the couch. "She's such a sweet girl," she mused, eyes following their daughter. "I've always wanted to make the world safe for her, but ..." Her eyes flooded with tears and she couldn't go on.
Marty reached out to grab Angela by the arms and pulled her close. "Angela! What is it? What's wrong? Tell me!" he cried out dramatically.
She swooned in his arms, collapsing in sobs that somehow kept her mascara perfect. "It's about Abigail. She -" She fidgeted. "We were so young, Marty. Kids make mistakes. I made a mistake."
"I don't understand!" Marty said in shock. "What are you talking about?"
Angela shook her head again. "I don't know. This is so hard to say, but if we're back here you should know -"
She was interrupted by the reemergence of their daughter, who was now about 14 and dressed in a revealing halter top and tiny denim skirt. "What Mommy's trying to say is that you aren't my real daddy, Daddy," she said.
Then she cracked her gum.
Marty gasped. "How can this be? Angela! I've always been faithful to you! How? Who?"
"Mommy likes demons," Abby taunted, glaring at her mother with hate-filled eyes. "Tell him, Mom."
Angela twisted her necklace nervously. "Belthazor," she admitted. "I went to talk and tell him to leave us alone, one day. But he was just so manly and so powerful, and well ... I made a mistake. And a few months later Abby was born." She swallowed hard. "I've always hoped she's yours."
"That's... That's impossible!" Marty shouted in shock. "I... I... I have to leave!" He stomped to the door and threw open the door, then took one look back at the women in his life.
"Abby... No matter what happens... I am your father!" he declared before giving Angela a withering look and marching out the door.
Abigail rolled her eyes, went into the bedroom and slammed the door as Angela pulled out the phone call for the one call she had hoped never to make.
[ooc: Preplayed with the swoontastic chasingangela! NFI! OOC OK!]
Of course yesterday she WAS in diapers and today she WAS eight years old.
Funny how that worked...
Angela strode into the room on stiletto heels, face delighted under a mound of teased hair and about an inch of makeup. "Marty, Abigail," she said. "It's so wonderful to see you both so happy. I never thought I would hear you laugh again since Danielle got into that terrible car accident. We made the right choice, coming back to Fandom. Nothing can go wrong for us here."
Yet, somehow, she knew it wasn't so simple. Things never were, and, with this return, an old worry had crept to the forefront of her mind.
"I know what you mean," Marty said looking up. "Now that we're back in Fandom and I no longer have amnesia, I'm positive that someone here will help find a cure for Marcella's rare fatal blood disease."
"Aunt Marcella and Aunt Danielle are going to be all better soon! Right Mommy?" Abby said with a bright smile of a child who has her entire future ahead of her.
"I hope so, darling," Angela said, trying to keep her voice from breaking. "There's something -- why don't you go get a cookie from the other room. I need to tell your daddy something."
"A cookie? It's not even lunchtime!" Abby exclaimed, hopping up and going to the bedroom before her parents could change their minds. "YAY!"
Marty watched her go, his smile fading from his face. He would never be sure which truth would hurt Abby more... that her father used to be a hit man, that she was born out of wedlock or that he gave birth to her as a woman. He turned to Angela, a serious look on his face. "What is it, Angela?" he asked in a grave tone. "You have the same look on your face when you heard that Rayanne confessed to the murder of Brian Krakow."
Of course he had only faked his death in order to exact revenge on Tino, but that was another story.
Angela shook her head and took a seat on the couch. "She's such a sweet girl," she mused, eyes following their daughter. "I've always wanted to make the world safe for her, but ..." Her eyes flooded with tears and she couldn't go on.
Marty reached out to grab Angela by the arms and pulled her close. "Angela! What is it? What's wrong? Tell me!" he cried out dramatically.
She swooned in his arms, collapsing in sobs that somehow kept her mascara perfect. "It's about Abigail. She -" She fidgeted. "We were so young, Marty. Kids make mistakes. I made a mistake."
"I don't understand!" Marty said in shock. "What are you talking about?"
Angela shook her head again. "I don't know. This is so hard to say, but if we're back here you should know -"
She was interrupted by the reemergence of their daughter, who was now about 14 and dressed in a revealing halter top and tiny denim skirt. "What Mommy's trying to say is that you aren't my real daddy, Daddy," she said.
Then she cracked her gum.
Marty gasped. "How can this be? Angela! I've always been faithful to you! How? Who?"
"Mommy likes demons," Abby taunted, glaring at her mother with hate-filled eyes. "Tell him, Mom."
Angela twisted her necklace nervously. "Belthazor," she admitted. "I went to talk and tell him to leave us alone, one day. But he was just so manly and so powerful, and well ... I made a mistake. And a few months later Abby was born." She swallowed hard. "I've always hoped she's yours."
"That's... That's impossible!" Marty shouted in shock. "I... I... I have to leave!" He stomped to the door and threw open the door, then took one look back at the women in his life.
"Abby... No matter what happens... I am your father!" he declared before giving Angela a withering look and marching out the door.
Abigail rolled her eyes, went into the bedroom and slammed the door as Angela pulled out the phone call for the one call she had hoped never to make.
[ooc: Preplayed with the swoontastic chasingangela! NFI! OOC OK!]