A/N: This is my first Rent fanfic, please be nice; no flames…
Disclaimer: I wrote this uber-late at night, so don't maim me if it's not a great piece of literature. I really am going to go back and edit this, but till I do, you'll have to be content with this. Rent is Jonathon Larson's, "Chicago" is performed by the lovely Mat Kearney.
Roger was up to something. Ever since the morning after the wedding night, he had been very secretive, looking through papers when he thought no one was looking, secret phone calls to Benny that always cut short when someone walked in the room, and private sessions with his semi-new guitar, the chords of which were unfamiliar, for all they were so pleasant and soothing.
Mimi cupped her chin with her hand as she put her elbow on the countertop. Try as she might, she couldn't understand her husband's new behavior. Never before had she seen him like this, not when he had awkwardly asked for her forgiveness and her time, not during the winter of 1989 (so far the happiest winter of her life, though hopefully it was soon to be eclipsed by new memories), not when he had grown silent and brooding with jealousy at an imagined threat (Mimi shuddered and hurried to her next thought), not when he had returned eager to hold her again, and certainly not when he had brought her to his apartment after declaring undying love and devotion in the eyes of a church official and all their friends.
What was it now?
She smiled ruefully as she shook her head. As much as she loved him, how could she keep up with Roger's moods? How could anyone? I suppose it's an acquired talent, something I'll have to learn from Mark, she thought.
Then again…
She frowned as she remembered how, a few days ago, she had literally cornered Mark, who now occupied what was once her apartment, and tried to wheedle the truth from him. She tried hints, persuasion, threats, even pleading, but Mark had remained silent on why Roger was acting so strange. However, several years of training had not eluded Mimi, and she remembered the few times she had had to play the role of Mata Hari as she looked into Mark's eyes. Though his words were full of duty and loyalty to friends, she saw a gleam of mischief in his green orbs. She felt relieved that it wasn't too serious a matter, whatever it was, but she had still stomped away after her questioning to save face.
But it was still so frustrating!
Mimi had not thought of it so much during her time in the hospital after she had nearly died (she hurried from this thought too), and for a while she had been too caught up in detox and a new therapeutic technique Roger had found and was helping her with to give his new mood any serious thought, but after she had married him and her life had calmed down (namely, there were less life- and money-consuming chemicals in my body that were slowly destroying me, she thought darkly), she soon had had nothing else to occupy her time. Mimi had tried to think up every possibility and then some; she tried calling Collins or Maureen, but they were uncharacteristically silent, never helping her guess except to calm her fears that Roger had lost interest in her so soon after marriage.
He's so stubborn! Well, two can play that game…
Mimi slowly smiled as she began to formulate a plan…
Where is he? He's always home by now!
Mimi folded her arms over her chest, glaring at the small clock as if it were the cause of her consternation for the past week. She had planned on Roger walking through their door about half an hour ago, and the earlier he was home the better…
Her plan was simple, really. She was just going to ask for the truth from her husband, explain to him that he had been worrying her; maybe more than necessary, but she had still worried. Roger would give her an honest answer, of that she was sure; he was concerned enough about her that the moment she said "worry", he would be instantly contrite.
Mimi always preferred a direct approach.
As it was, she might not be able to make any sort of approach. She was still trying to gain back control over her body after being ravaged by the heroin, then being put back in detox plus extra therapy, and as a result, she tired later than she did before…before Roger.
She smiled, then sighed. Maybe it was a lost cause. Perhaps she should go to bed, then get her answers tomorrow morning.
After all, Roger literally couldn't live without her cooking.
With this mischievous thought, Mimi pushed herself off the couch –
Rap.
Mimi froze.
Rap, rap, rap.
Crap, she thought as she remembered that she had let Mark keep her bottle of pepper spray. The only item in their apartment that could be used as a weapon was the saucepan in the kitchen, which was in plain sight of the window by the fire escape, where the tapping was coming from.
Maybe it's just the ladder from upstairs fallen again, Mimi thought wildly to herself as she crept catlike to the window, trying not to call up memories of horrific headlines. I'll just peek out the window, and if I see anything strange, I'll just –
"Oh!"
Mimi gasped softly as she saw the face of a much-beloved person standing on the fire escape, holding a guitar. She only allowed herself a moment of bewilderment and relief, then steeled herself to begin making demands as she headed for the sliding glass door.
What does he think he's doing on the fire escape anyway?
Mimi was hard-pressed to keep her determined expression in place as she neared her husband. Her heart found comfort as she gazed at his face, his smiling lips, his high cheekbones, his deep, soulful eyes that looked out at her now, love and joy shining in their depths as they met hers. She tried not to blush or fumble with the latch as she pulled the door open.
Mimi took a breath to ask him what exactly was going on, but before she could gather her words, Roger began strumming his guitar, and as always, she was immediately spellbound by the mesmerizing sound of his voice.
Meet me in Chicago
Down by the water line,
Step across the Gold Coast,
You've stepped into this heart of mine
Maybe Cincinnati
With a trip in the morning light,
Step across the branches; I will
Follow you over the rhyme
Mesmerizing did not cover it.
Mimi could only stare at him, lips parted, as he sang a song that reverberated in her heart. His voice caressed each phrase like a lover; each line echoed hope and sunrises. As he sang, he gazed at her earnestly, steadfastly.
And it takes one to know one's what they always say
Waiting for the dawn and I'm waiting for the day
Oh, I'm coming home and I'm willing to pray
Stepping through the haze one more day
Roger could feel his fingers shaking as they stroked the steel strings, coaxing out a melodic paradise. His previous practices had been nothing compared to this. Before, he could only imagine her in front of him, her eyes watching his every move, listening for every word. Now that he could see her as he sang, see her warm, deep brown eyes following him…he couldn't contain it. He was one with the music, and the music was one with his heart, yearning towards her like no other force in the world. He couldn't contain it; he stepped into their apartment, eyes still trained on her beloved face.
On a wide open road
On and on, and the lights come and go
And everything I might not even know
What is the distance?
On through the resistance
Singing: oh, oh, oh…
Mimi shifted back a few steps to let Roger in, but she was barely aware of it. She still watched him, still felt every poignant note as it shimmered in the air. He smiled at her obvious fascination.
Meet me in Portland,
Rose Hill in the summer light,
See you in the Evergreens
I will catch you down on the northeast side
Maybe San Diego,
Moonlight at the lowest tide,
See you in a shoreline breaker
Stepping over my Maker's line
As Roger looked down into Mimi's eyes, he had a sudden thought. Heavens above, she doesn't realize the real surprise, the real reason I've been acting strange. She's too enamored by my song.
Too enamored by me.
And it takes one to know one's what they always say
Waiting for the dawn and I've waited for the day
Oh, I'm coming home and I'm willing to pray
Stepping through the haze one more day
On a wide open road
On and on, and the lights come and go
And everything I might not even know
What is the distance?
On through the resistance
Singing: oh, oh, oh…
Mimi tried to hide her disappointment as Roger gently slowed his strumming into silence and put down his guitar. She worked to remember to breathe as Roger pulled out something from inside his jacket.
Car keys.
"We never had a honeymoon."
Mimi raised her gaze from the strange keys to her husband's face.
"You mean…?"
Suddenly, the rifling of papers, the phone calls to Benny, even the song took on a new meaning, and Mimi wasn't sure whether to laugh with, hug, or scold her husband. As it was, she was still trying to shake the shock from her system.
A pained look crossed Roger's face as he watched the strange play of emotions across his young wife's face. "I know it might be a bit much, especially after all the therapy…if you'd rather not–"
His words were quickly stopped as Mimi abruptly wrapped her thin arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. Roger froze for a second, then slowly enclosed her in his embrace as he deepened the kiss, holding her for as long as possible.
When they finally pulled apart, he put his forehead to Mimi's, smiling into her dark eyes. "I'm glad you approve."
Mimi grinned back at him. "I just hope you know what you're getting into."
She sighed then, remembering the beautiful song Roger had sung for her. Though she was not quite as much of a music-phile as he was, she had never wanted that song to end.
Roger's brow furrowed. "What is it?"
She looked at him underneath her eyelashes, then took a steadying breath.
You met me on the backstreets
Right there at the end of the line
Where a spark turns into fire
And a tear falls into love
And it takes one to know one's what they always say
I've waited for the dawn and I've waited for the day
Oh, I'm coming home and I'm willing to pray
Stepping through the haze one more day
Roger's eyes widened as Mimi sang his song back to him, with a verse she had created. He felt touched as she sang of her love for him, all the while fixing her soulful gaze on him.
On a wide open road
On and on, and the lights come and go
And everything I might not even know
What is the distance?
On through the resistance
Singing…
Roger smiled as he took Mimi's hand, releasing his hold on her. He shifted his hold on his new set of keys so he could hold his guitar by the neck. As they walked out of their apartment together, he joined in her sweet singing.
On a wide open road
On and on, and the lights come and go
And everything I might not even know
What is the distance?
On through the resistance
Singing: oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh…
Mimi chuckled as Roger held open the passenger door for her, bowing like an 18th century dandy. She adjusted some of the luggage in the back seats as Roger walked around to the driver's side.
Trust Roger to be prepared enough to have already packed luggage before he comes to woo me, but not to have thought of how said luggage might "shift" while driving…
When the car had started, Roger wrapped his arm around Mimi, holding her close to him as they drove away into a Manhattan moon.
Meet me in Chicago
Down by the water line
Step across the Gold Coast
Stepped into this heart of mine…
Extra A/N: Roger's line of Mimi being enamored by him isn't arrogant; he's just realizing how much she loves him...
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