Oh hi. God it's been ages since I've written something and posted it online. I've never written for Rent before, so please bear with me. I wrote this because there's a serious lack of Maureen/Roger out there, plus I'm extremely bored. Obviously, everything belongs to Jonathon Larson, though I wouldn't kick Roger out of my bed! Let me know if I should bother continuing this. Thank you and happy reading!

Maureen Johnson has always preyed on weaker men. Call it insecurity or chicken salad, it doesn't really matter, that's just the way she is. Typically, she prefers her men to be attractive, but not more attractive than she so when she set her ambitions on Mark Cohen, everyone, including herself, was surprised. It's not that he's unattractive…he's just not Johnny Depp.

Sorry Johnny…Maureen thought to herself as she and Mark made their way through the tent city leading to Mark's apartment. Maureen could tell Mark was freaking out about what she thought of his living arrangements, but things like that don't bother her. She came from a well to do family where everything in their apartment was beautiful; so beautiful, but so cold. So picking her way through a bit of garbage hardly bothered her.

"I'm warning you now, we probably don't have electricity…meaning we probably don't have heat." Mark sighed.

"We?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh didn't I tell you? I kinda sorta have roommates…"

"Boys or girls?" Maureen asked casually.

"B-boys of course!" He hastened to assure her.

Maureen smiled in relief, "That's fine Pookie, I'm sure we'll be the best of friends."

"Uh I wouldn't count on that Maureen. Roger's…difficult…to say the least."

"If I were named Roger, I'd be a little difficult too." Maureen giggled.

Mark choked out a laugh, "Don't tell him that. There's also Collins, but he's rarely there cause he teaches and I think he'll be moving onto better things soon. Oh and there's Benny. He preys off of rich girls and usually stays with them until they realize he's using them and he comes crawling back to us."

"Lovely, they sound like…characters, to say the least." She prayed that this Benny never found out about her family; the last thing she needed was a gold digger. "So where is this place anyway?"

"We're almost there. Why? Are you tired? Do you want to stop for a minute?"

Maureen kept herself from rolling her eyes, "Oh honestly Mark, we're not in the 17th century, I'm not some dainty girl in a corset, I was just curious."

"Right, sorry." Mark took her hand.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, "Though I'm not opposed to corsets, I'd just rather wear them at night when I'm writhing on a bed, not walking down a dirty street." Maureen got a little too much satisfaction out of the blush on Mark's face.

"So uh here it is." Mark had stopped them in front of a crumbling building, still blushing, "Ready to go in?"

"Beyond ready, Pookie, let's go." She charged into the building as if she actually knew where to go.

"Our elevators broken, we'll have to walk." Mark added apologetically.

"A little exercise won't kill me. Gives me an excuse to eat chocolate later." She winked then began the long ascent to meet these dreaded roommates.

Meanwhile in the flat, Roger was lying on the couch with his Fender balanced precariously on his stomach. Mark was supposedly coming over with his new girlfriend. He, Collins and Benny had all been convinced Mark was making her up, but apparently she existed. It sucked that the other 2 wouldn't be there to meet…What's her name again?...Mallory? No that's not right…something that begins with an M…Oh whatever, I'm sure Mark will repeat her name 10,000 times once they get here.

Roger strummed his guitar, analyzing the mold that was steadily spreading across their ceiling. A few years ago, this may have disgusted him, but after awhile you lose your sense of what is nauseating and what is not. If anything, it gave him another excuse to not invite his mother to visit him. Roger could hear footsteps on the stairs and new that he should probably try to make himself and the flat more presentable, but that would involve an effort he didn't feel like expending.

Mark used his key (technically, you could get into the apartment regardless of whether you had the key or not, but he didn't want Maureen to know this) and shoved the heavy door open. "Um, after you." He gestured gallantly to Maureen.

Maureen smiled graciously at him and stepped inside the dingy flat. Once her eyes had adjusted a bit, she could make out a couch, a few tables and trash everywhere. There were band posters on the wall and bits of what seemed to be lyrics strewn across the floor.

Mark inwardly groaned; he'd begged Roger to clean the place up before leaving this morning, "I-I'm so sorry about the mess. I asked Roger to fix it up, but well…" He trailed off miserably.

Roger grinned when he heard this, "I did clean up, Mark. You can actually sit on the couch now."

Maureen, who had been examining one of the band posters, jumped and let out a small shriek when she heard a new voice in the room. She could hear a raspy chuckling and felt herself blush; now Maureen was pissed. She rarely lost her cool and she never blushed!

"Roger, you're such a prick sometimes, honestly." Mark was glaring at the couch.

Maureen turned around as Roger sat up and adjusted his guitar. Mark cleared his throat pointedly. Roger glanced at him then sighed and stood up, gently setting his Fender aside.

"I'm Roger." He offered a calloused hand. Mark cleared his throat again. "Whaaaat?" Roger whined. Mark cocked an eyebrow. "Oh…Sorry for making you shriek like a girl."

Maureen stared at his hand then took it, "Maureen and considering I am a girl, I think my shriek was spot on."

A surprised grin flashed across Roger's face, so Maureen (I knew it began with an M!) has a sense of humor. And really soft hands. He released said soft hands then stretched his arms over his head and wandered away.

Mark was blushing again, "I'm so-"

Maureen pressed a slender finger to his lips, "Stop apologizing." She raised her voice slightly, "He's nothing I can't handle."

In their tiny kitchen, Roger froze then smirked, Keep thinking that little girl, keep thinking that.

Roger did his best to ignore Mark attempting to flirt with his smoking hot girlfriend. He had to admit to himself that if she weren't his best friend's girl, he'd definitely get in on that, but because of this and also because he could just tell she wouldn't last one week trying to be a part of this lifestyle, he dropped it.

Maureen's so out of Mark's lead he mused. Mark was like his brother, but he couldn't quite see why Maureen was wasting her time with him…It was clear from her expressions that at times Mark was boring her beyond belief and he could already tell the difference between a genuine laugh and a pity giggle, but whatever, not his problem.

A few hours later, Roger gave up on trying to hang out at his apartment and grabbed his coat and guitar, "I'm going to get ready for the show tonight, later."

"Wait, when are you coming back, Rog?" Mark called.

"Does it matter?" Roger sighed impatiently, his hand on the door knob, "If I play my cards right, the band will get to play an extra set and then I can find a groupie to play with, if you know what I mean."

Maureen rolled her eyes in disgust, Typical musician.

"Alright…" Mark still looked uncertain.

Roger threw him a disgruntled look, "Quit it, Mom, I'll be back whenever." Then he stalked out of the apartment.

"Well, he's charming." Maureen commented.

"Yeah…" Mark agreed distractedly.

Maureen pouted, "Come on, Pookie, what are you worried about?"

Mark ignored her, still staring at the door.

Maureen sighed and slid into Mark's lap, turning his face away from the door and kissing him seductively, "Forget about him," she murmured against his lips, "I'm here, you can do things to me if you want."

Mark blushed again then kissed her back, as always, letting her take the lead.