Title: The Long Way Home

Fanfic
Characters: Collins, Maureen, Mark, Roger, Benny
Prompt: 080. Why?
Word Count: 647
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Summary: There's an addition to the loft
Author's Notes: I'm not so good at ending these things. Feedback is greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own, I just rent. Thank you Jonathan Larson.

Roger groaned as he stumbled up the stairs, huge cardboard boxes in his arms. The top box teetered and threatened to slide off and spill the contents all over the stairs. He paused and leaned against the wall to steady his load and catch his breath.

"Come on, Rog," a deep voice called from behind. "You're not the only one who's carrying this shit."

Roger sighed as he pulled away from the wall and continued the trek up to the loft. Benny followed close behind, panting as he came. Roger gasped as he burst through the door to the loft, dropping his boxes and collapsing onto the couch. Benny soon followed, dropping his pile of boxes beside Roger's. He bent over, placing his hands on his knees.

Collins entered next, weighed down by suitcases and an oversized duffle bag.

"Is there any more?" Roger asked, hoping the answer was no.

Collins shook his head as he gasped for air. "That's the last of it."

"Finally," Benny grumbled as he straightened out. "After what, three trips? Each?"

"Benny," Collins scolded as he leaned against the wall.

"How much shit does she need?" he asked, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead.

Mark was the next to tumble into the apartment, empty handed. His eyes bugged out as he saw the huge mess that filled the living room of the loft. He eyed his roommates as they panted and sweated.

"Sorry guys," Mark mumbled.

Roger smiled sarcastically as he leaned back on the couch. Collins shrugged, sliding down the wall onto his bottom. But Benny didn't respond as calmly, not that it was expected.

"Jesus Christ, Mark," he started. "What the hell is all of this? We don't have this much shit combined!"

"I don't know," he replied, setting his camera down on the table.

"Why? Why does she have to move in with us?" he whined.

"Because Mark loves her," Collins interjected, sticking up for the scrawny blond.

Benny sighed, rolling his eyes and tossing his arms up in the air. Mark smiled over at Collins, silently thanking him for the comment. A smile crossed Collins lips as he watched the cameraman thank him. He was glad that Mark was happy, and if Maureen made him happy, then she was welcome here anytime. And it was also rather amusing to watch Maureen try and make Benny love her, too. Roger had somewhat warmed to her and Collins had fallen in love with her the first night Mark brought her over. But Benny wasn't as easy to persuade.

"Hey guys," the bubbly diva smiled as she walked into the room, a red Popsicle in her hand. Her lips and tongue were dyed bright red as well and she smiled as she saw the mess that was her belongings piled in the loft. "Oh, you guys moved my stuff! Thanks," she exclaimed, tossing her arms around Mark's neck.

Benny glared at her and then at Mark. If looks could kill, Mark would be dead on the floor the second Benny looked over. Mark blushed as she kissed his cheek, leaving behind a heavy scent of artificial cherry.

"Actually, it was the other three," Mark admitted. "I was out filming."

Maureen handed her Popsicle off to Mark and scooted across the room to the couch. She jumped first on Roger, strangling him in a hug, though he resisted. She climbed off and chased Benny, who tried to hide behind Mark. Maureen hugged him, too, oblivious to the pained expression that hung on his face. Her last stop was Collins and she kissed his cheek before sitting in his lap.

"Thanks guys," she said, leaning against Collins.

"You're welcome, Mo," Collins replied.

"I still don't see why this is necessary," Benny mumbled.

"What?" Maureen asked.

"Nothing," he said as Collins eyed him. "It was no problem. No problem at all."