Title: Bonding Stones
Author: LlamaCatastrophe
Rating: Pg-13 right now..I have no idea what the future holds.
Summary: Mimi gives everyone a gift for Christmas one year. Not much of a summary I know. Will be Mark/Roger eventually and is going to be very AU.
Disclaimer: I own nothing at all. I just own the story idea everything else belongs to Jonathan Larson.
Note: I am planning on making this a rather long story and I am open to ideas and suggestions. So please give feedback, just a few words can make a chapter go so much quicker. Thanks and enjoy!
Chapter 1: What's In A Wish
"December 24th, 10pm, Eastern Standard time. The loft is cold, we have no heat. We are fortunate enough to have some food, courtesy of one hot shot lawyer and her loving future ex-wife again."
The camera zoomed in on Joanne who sat in the middle of the couch with Maureen on her lap. The two chatted about their latest business ventures rather oblivious to Mark's narration. On cue, Joanne gave a shy little wave and laughed as Maureen lovingly pinched her cheeks, bragging about her new job as a weather girl on the local news channel.
Maureen jumped up from her current-former-ex-fiancé's lap and leapt in front of the camera's familiar lens, brandishing a bottle of wine at the glass eye. The diva twirled about a bit then stopped abruptly, placing a hand on her hip as she smiled at the cameraman.
"Are you ever going to crawl out from behind that thing!" Maureen shouted. She tried to sound like a stern parent, but failed miserably given her blood alcohol level.
"Eventually," Mark smiled easily at the teasing. He knows how much the camera loves Maureen, and even more so how much she loves the camera.
The camera panned up from Maureen's feet, where she is wearing red platform heels. Her legs are covered in zebra print stockings, and over her body is Angel's prized Ms. Clause robe.
"Do you truly expect me to take you seriously in that?" Mark chided as Maureen huffed in response. A heavy heel clunked against the hard wood floor as she stomped her foot in protest.
"Hey! That's not fair! Angel asked one of us to wear this on Christmas Eve each year, so we drew straws and I won fair and square."
"What exactly is square about being fair?" Roger chimed in.
Mark's camera panned across the loft to where Roger was lounging on the table by the kitchen. Legs crossed Indian style with a beer poised at his lips. Collins walked into the frame snagging Roger's beer from his hand and taking a healthy swig. Mark laughed audibly at the dumbfounded expression on the former rock god's face.
Swallowing down the beer, Collins sidled up next to Mimi pulling her up from her spot against the window ledge and spinning her around. Dancing with the resident dancer was always one of Collin's favorite past times.
"Nothing technically. Specially seeing as straws are cylindrical, besides I thought being square was like being lame. So how are you lame if you're fair?" Collins added, lifting Mimi's small frame up by her hips, before dipping her form graciously. They danced for awhile longer as everyone ate and laughed.
Mark's camera swept around the loft and he felt himself smiling. This was a family, his family at that. Mark never thought family was defined by blood as much as it was intent. These people intended to be there for each other out of love, not blood. That was a family by their definitions. A group where he could be himself and observe, without detaching from everyone like he had in the past.
Mark felt a strong hand on the back of his neck and jumped at the sudden contact. He turned his head and was met with Roger's smirking form.
"Come on, man. Time to join the fun."
Mark sighed and nodded, saddened at the imminent departure of his security blanket. "Alright just a few more minutes?" He looked up at Roger with the best puppy dog face he could muster. His friend did not waiver. Mark swiveled the camera around so that his outstretched arm aloud it to film Roger's face as well as his own. "Pookie?" Mark jutted out his bottom lip as far as he could.
Roger laughed, a loud and brilliant sound that always helped to make Mark's day go by. How many hours had he spent over the years hearing Roger laugh? How many times had it been because of something he said or did? "Enough," Mark thought to himself.
"Asshole," Maureen muttered from her place next to Joanne, the drama queen was never one for being parodied. Soon the whole room, except for Maureen, was in hysterics and with that Mark accepted that the time had come.
Mark mournfully walked over to a book shelf that was full of junk and paper, not a single book in sight. He gingerly cleared a space where he could leave the camera running and get some more footage.
"Oh wait! I have to go get something!" Mimi shrieked, kicking off her slippers and rushing to the door.
"Wait!" Joanne yelled, the dancer stopped abruptly and spun on her heel. "You're going down there barefoot?" Mimi gave a small child like shrug in response and nodded meekly. "Someone toss this girl some shoes! What's wrong with your slippers anyway?"
"They're…well, old, and the tread part at the bottom has gotten all…slippery, but they are still comfy!" A full red lip pouted in remembrance of her once useable footwear.
"My girl," Roger said wistfully shaking his head and smiling.
"Here. Take these." Maureen tossed Angel's heavy heels at the young girl's feet and she jumped in terror.
"Eep! Don't throw those at me! They could crush me." Mimi shook her head and slid her feet into her old friend's shoes. Lifting a foot slowly, she cautiously made her way to the door. "And she danced in these?" A sea of nods answered her question. "Well dayum."
"They look better on you anyway. Red was never really her color, thought she loved it so," Collins smiled warmly at the thought of his love.
The group chatted away as they waited for Mimi's return. Mark returned to the group and plucked a beer from Collins' hand, walking past him quickly and taking a long swig.
"Hey!" Collins reached a hand out even though Mark was on the other side of the room by the time the thievery registered.
"Revenge is often best served cold, my dear, sir," Roger said in an upper class British accent.
"Oh…so that's how things are now, huh, bitches?" Collins said in a sly tone, as he nodded his head in understanding.
Mark and Roger shared an overly zestful 'high-five' and toasted themselves with Mark's newly pilfered beverage.
"Boys." Maureen sighed, squeaking as Joanne tickled her now bare feet.
Mark couldn't help but admire the two women and their love. He often wished for something like the bond they shared. He envied that no matter how many times they fought they would always come back to each other. He despised their ability to see past all the bad things and just let go and be free and honest with themselves. Though not always honest with each other, Maureen for her part was trying, they made it work.
Mark wanted that. He wanted the connection, bond, trust, honesty, and more than anything the love. The love and undivided attention of another individual. He recalled dimly what it was like to love someone in a relationship, but he could not recall being loved in the same way. Sure, he had loved Maureen, but he was never number one on her list, he could accept that now, but it left him longing for it all the more.
Mark's musings were interrupted by a loud sound coming up the stairs.
Clunk.
"Stupid."
Clunk.
"Fuckin'."
Clunk.
"Shoes."
Mimi appeared in the door way with a small box in her hand, she looked frazzled and out of breath.
Mark, Roger, and Collins, all arched a left eyebrow in unison. Matching smirks soon followed.
Mimi looked up past the ceiling and pointed. "Don't even play that, girl. Angel! I know you're laughing at me, bet you were just waiting for me to get into these," she laughed at herself and took the shoes off, placing them next to the couch.
Mimi sat back down in the corner of the couch and motioned for Mark and Roger to come more into the circle. Roger sat on the back of the couch behind Mimi, one leg tossed over the arm rest. Mark scanned the room and found no seats were readily available so he stood near the couch.
Roger tilted his head at Mark's position in the room. Everyone else was seated comfortably or at the very least with someone, and yet there Mark was, alone off to the side.
"Just like last year," Roger thought to himself. With little thought, Roger reached out and pulled Mark by the elbow over to him. He had his arm around the filmmakers' waist and kept him pressed up against the side of the couch and his leg.
Mark froze, caught completely off guard by Roger's sudden closeness. He turned to Roger and gave him a questioning look.
"It's comfier than standing, besides, you're warm." Roger shared this information and blinked as if there was nothing wrong with it. He had a hand wrapped in Mimi's hair, toying with the curls, and an arm around his best friend's waist and somehow this was completely acceptable in their circle.
For Mark, there was nothing acceptable about having Roger's breath tickle his ear, or having Roger's thumb in his belt loop. Nor was it acceptable when Roger dropped his head and laid it on Mark's shoulder.
Roger took a deep breath and buried his face in Mark's scarf for a moment. The scent that distinctly belonged to his best friend made him smile. To Roger it smelt like comfort. It smelt like, lonely nights of withdrawal turning into affection and words of wisdom. It smelt like years of stupidity and security stretched out into a long piece of fabric. Roger knew his metaphor was stupid, but it was his, and it made him smile to himself.
It wasn't that they had never been this close before. They had fallen asleep on the same bed drunk out of their skulls on more than one occasion. They had been friends for somewhere in the ball park of seven years at that point, so it is not like they never made contact with one another.
Mark shrugged off his surprise and turned his head to face the rest of his friends. If Roger was going to be fine with this randomly closeness, so was he. If Roger could be fine with partially cuddling his friend, so could he. Mark spent a few minutes convincing himself of that, until he felt Roger's form let out a sigh of, what sounded like relief. The sudden rush of hot air, ghosted past Mark's cheek and he let himself close his eyes briefly to take the moment in.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw Roger's lips quirk up in a smile of victory. Much to his dismay, from his angle, he could not make out Roger's eyes. That was usually Mark's sure fire way of reading the guitarist.
"Who knows when this will ever happen again, right?" Mark thought to himself, he decided that he would have to investigate the footage on his camera later. Just in case he was reading too much into the whole situation. Mark mused to himself about how given his over active imagination, over thinking was a distinct possibility in any situation.
Mimi held the small golden box in her hand, her fingers pulling at the velvet red bow that adorned it.
"So, I know we all agreed not to get each other anything," Mimi started, her statement was met with various cries that ranged from excitement to embarrassment. "But you guys have all done so much for me since I came back last year that I needed to do something! It's a really small gesture and it's not that much, but," she paused for a moment, her cheeks tinting a dull red despite her dark complexion.
"Stop stallin', lil' mama, and show us whatcha got!" Collins bellowed.
Mimi smiled warmly at all her friends and shrugged, taking the lid and bow off of the box. "Okay, now everyone take one," she held the golden container above her head and passed it to Roger.
The rock-star dipped his hand into the box and removed a small black stone that had gold streaks running through it in various directions. It was smooth all over, except for a jagged edge. He admired the edge for a long moment, noticing how it was jagged, but not sharp.
Mimi waved the box above her head and Mark took his queue to take one.
Mark too, took out a stone, and inspected the contents of the box. They all appeared to look the same, gold shavings sparkled along the surface, and slightly pointed edges protruded from them all.
The box made its way around the room and Mimi spoke again. "Okay, now I know you guys are probably trying to figure out why I gave you rocks for Christmas."
"I thought it was just Santa's way of telling us we ain't gettin shit done right round here," Collins remarked.
"Then it would have been coal," Mark added.
"Two points for the Jew boy," Maureen beamed brightly at her quip, as Mark sulked.
"Anyway," Mimi continued, "this is kind of a gift and kind of a game. These are called 'bonding stones'. We all take one stone and place it in the palm of our hand, make a fist, and put all our fists together in the circle. One person, who we would call 'the rock' of our group will then recite a wish that the whole group agrees on. We repeat the wish as a group and then make our own private wishes."
"Sounds fun," Joanne commented distractedly, as Maureen ran her foot up her girlfriend's leg.
Mimi rolled her eyes and went on, "There's more to it! You guys see how there are little pointy parts on one side? Well each stone has a second part. After a year we all come back and match up our stones and see who has our other half. And that will supposedly be the person who you have grown the closest with over the past year…oh yeah, and the wishes will have come true."
Silence filled the room as everyone did their best to understand Mimi's game.
"Where exactly did you get this from, honey?" Roger asked her sweetly as he massaged her neck with his knuckles, his hand holding the stone, other arm still holding Mark's slender frame against him.
"This cute little psychic/voodoo kinda place that just opened uptown. The owner is a sweet lil' old lady. She said she used to be a fortune teller back when it wasn't full of liars and cheats. She was really nice, and the whole story about the bonding stones just sounded like something we should do. I mean we all have things we want to improve in ourselves, or even each other, so why not, right?"
"I say we got nothing to lose! Worse case scenario it works and we all live happily ever after," Maureen bounced at the idea of having her wishes come true.
"I hear that, sister, so who is our rock going to be?" Collins inquired, but then noticed all eyes blinking at him. "Me?"
"You've held us together longer than anyone else has, mentally, emotionally, and financially," Mark pointed out.
Collins nodded then stood, making his way over to his family. "Alright, then, I suppose that's a fair assessment. So what are we wishing for?"
"Fame!" Maureen cried out, jumping to her feet, and stretching her arms up to the sky.
"Employment." Mark and Roger chorused. "Pleasurable employment, the kind of job that you don't want to run from every other day." Mark added, smiling when Roger gripped him tighter around the waist in a hug of approval.
"Happiness?" Joanne offered, looking around at her nodding friends.
"Love," Mimi said serenely. "If you have love all those other things fall into place…"
Everyone in the loft nodded and so it was decided. They all stood and placed their stones in their palms, bumping balled fists against each other in a circle as Collins spoke.
"We wish for happiness in love, whether it be the love of a new friend or old friend, new lover or old lover. We wish for love and all the smiles and tears that come with it. So I guess this is the part where we all close our eyes and make our wishes right?"
With closed eyes, and bowed heads, the unlikely friends of Avenue B made their personal wishes and hoped for the best in the coming year. No one was to speak of what they wished for until it came true, so no one would know whether or not the bonding stones were working until they actually did. As the evening carried on, Mark's camera filmed away until the film ran out.
The last thing it recorded was a small flash of pink light as everyone but Mark and Roger went to bed for the night.
TBC