"I've got a good feeling about tonight," Joanne says optimistically to Maureen as she piles on clothes in preparation to search for Mimi yet again, "Benny found some former junkie friend of hers who said he saw her buy from a new dealer just last week."
When Maureen doesn't respond, Joanne turns toward the couch where her girlfriend sits idly flipping through a magazine and obnoxiously snapping her gum. Her legs are crossed; the top one bouncing into the air every few seconds in a display of poorly contained energy that's only point seems to be to drive Joanne crazy.
"Mo?"
The magazine is tossed haphazardly to the coffee table and Joanne can't help but wince. She barely manages to suppress the urge to walk over and place it on top of all the other magazines, the ones she'd stacked neatly into a pile and aligned with the edge of the table. Instead, she focuses on Maureen, who rises off of the couch and saunters seductively in her direction.
"Come on, Pookie," her girlfriend drawls, "let's go out and have some fun! I've been stuck here all day and I'm bored."
Joanne opens her mouth to protest, but is quickly silenced when Maureen reaches out and catches her by the hips, tugging her close and into a kiss. The diva's thumbs lightly caress the delicate skin just above Joanne's waistband, causing a shiver of pleasure to shoot up the lawyer's spine. Maureen breaks the kiss and pretends to consider their choices.
"You're right. We could go out in the cold," she says, pressing languid, lingering kisses to Joanne's collarbone, her jaw, the curve of her neck. "Or," she whispers teasingly into her lover's ear, her hot breath tickling sensitive mocha skin, "we could stay here in bed. I'll make it worth your while, Baby."
Sliding her hands up and under multiple layers of clothing, Maureen cups one of Joanne's breasts in her hand and teases her nipple, pinching and rolling it between her fingers before taking the other one in her mouth and curling her tongue around it, sucking gently.
Joanne bites her lip and groans low in her throat, feeling her resolve weakening by the second. Sensing her impending victory, Maureen smiles devilishly and unbuttons her girlfriend's jeans. Nimble fingers have already unzipped her fly when Joanne manages to come to her senses and gently pushes Maureen away.
"We've got to look for Mimi," she says firmly.
Maureen immediately turns sullen. "Why?"
Joanne blinks. "Why?" she repeats, "what do you mean, why?"
Maureen rolls her eyes and backs away further, hands jammed tightly into her back pockets. "I mean," she says, looking bored, "why bother?"
"She's our friend and she needs help!" Joanne raises her voice more out of confusion than anger, baffled at Maureen's attitude. When Mimi had first gone missing, Maureen had gladly spent every spare moment she had searching just like everyone else, never once complaining about posting numerous fliers, making a seemingly endless amount of phone calls, or walking the streets of the Village night after night. The longer the younger woman remained missing, however, the more irritated Maureen became.
"What's going on with you?"
Maureen throws her hands in the air, frustrated. "Me? What about the rest of you?" she demands fiercely, eyes flashing. "She doesn't want to be found! Can't you see that? She doesn't want our help, she doesn't care! That's what happens. No matter what you do, sometimes it all goes to shit anyway."
Joanne can't believe what she's hearing. "So, that's it? You're just going to give up on her?" she asks, incredulous.
Maureen crosses her arms in front of her chest and stares back at her girlfriend defiantly.
"She gave up on us first."
Shaking her head, Joanne digs her gloves out of her pockets and slips them on. She grabs her coat and lingers for a moment before leaving, her hand clutching the doorknob. Maureen watches wordlessly, her jaw set and eyes hard, before turning and flouncing back into the living room.
After taking a cab to Alphabet City, Joanne walks alone for five blocks before hearing the unmistakable sound of someone jogging behind her. She turns around and stops, waiting patiently for Maureen to catch up. Her girlfriend walks the last few feet and doubles over, exaggerating a coughing fit and sucking in oxygen by the lungful.
"God, Pookie," Maureen wheezes inelegantly, "slow down, will ya?"
Joanne says nothing, still smarting for their earlier argument. When the brunette finishes composing herself, they cover the next few blocks in complete silence.
Maureen moves in a straight line a few steps ahead. She's looking at her shoes, stretching out long legs to gracefully leap along, lost in thought. Then suddenly, she lifts a foot and holds it aloft for a moment, as if considering something. Joanne hangs back, watching as Maureen seems to gather herself before she twirls around just then and stops to face her girlfriend, both feet back on the pavement.
"Jo?"
Surprised at hearing the rarely used nickname, Joanne hums in response. "Hmmm?"
Maureen looks away and swallows hard, then turns her gaze skyward before finally meeting Joanne's eyes and blinking back tears. She's huddled into her coat, balled fists buried deeply in her pockets. It makes her look small and cold and kind of pathetic, and Joanne suddenly wants nothing more than to gather her up and hug her.
"What if we don't find her? Huh? Did you even think about that? Or, hell," Maureen lets out a harsh laugh and shrugs her shoulders, "what if we find her and she's dead? What if she's fucking frozen to some dirty bench somewhere and she died alone and thought nobody fucking cared?"
Maureen's eyes are wet and red-rimmed, and she angrily wipes at the tears that threaten to fall, leaving smudges of mascara behind. She crosses her arms, kicks a foot at the ground and mutters something Joanne has to strain to hear.
"If she's gonna die, we should at least be there."
The pieces come together then and Joanne feels her heart twist. She reaches out and catches the bend in Maureen's elbow, then gives it a soft tug and pulls the other woman into her arms. She presses a kiss to her temple.
"Sweetheart, she's not April. There's still a chance. We'll find her, you'll see."
For all of Joanne's life, her hard work has always, always paid off. She's used to things going her way, and until now, she hadn't even considered the idea that Mimi might not be found alive. In her mind, after hours and days and weeks of endless searching, of course they would be successful. They had to be.
They walk side-by-side quietly after that, occasionally rousing women who look enough like Mimi to get their hopes up. It's not until they begin walking through a small park that they have any luck. Maureen spots a shivering figure curled into a fetal position under a tree, familiar dark curls spilling out from under a threadbare scarf. She takes off like a shot and falls to her knees beside the younger woman, shaking her violently.
"Mimi!"
Mimi barely responds, and when Joanne catches up she doesn't think twice, automatically bending to scoop the dancer up into her arms. She gasps and stumbles forward, correcting for what she had expected to be a heavier load.
Maureen shoots her a worried look.
"Baby?"
Joanne can't keep the shock out of her voice. "She doesn't weigh anything."
Maureen's features are all grim determination.
"We have to get her to the hospital."
"No!"
Mimi's objection is more of a quiet request than an actual shout, but the two women couldn't have been more thankful to hear her voice.
Maureen looks up at Joanne and laughs, her face splitting into the first genuine smile she's seen in weeks.
"Mimi! Mimi, honey, it's Mo," Maureen lays a hand against Mimi's cheek almost reverently, "Joanne's here too. Please let us take you to the hospital."
Mimi relaxes into Maureen's touch. "No hospital."
"But -"
"No hospital!" The younger woman cuts Joanne off as forcefully as she can manage. "I want to go to the loft. Please?"
Joanne gives Maureen a helpless look, but then nods down at Mimi.
"Alright," she agrees reluctantly.
It takes over an hour and a lot of stops, but they finally reach their destination, all three of them freezing and exhausted. Maureen hollers for the guys and they scramble down the stairs, appearing in front of them and sweeping Mimi up into the loft in seconds. The gratitude in Roger's eyes is palpable, and for the rest of the night, he never leaves Mimi's side.
Later, after all the excitement has passed and it's clear that the young dancer will be okay for the time being, Maureen and Joanne say their goodbyes and take a cab home. Maureen rests her head on her lover's shoulder and quietly draws her hand into her lap, fiddling absently with the rings on Joanne's fingers. The diva's uncharacteristically subdued disposition doesn't go unnoticed.
"Honey?" Joanne asks gently.
Maureen hums in acknowledgement.
"Are you okay?"
Silence reigns in the back seat of their cab.
"We found her in time," Maureen answers finally, "so yeah, I am."
She pauses for a moment, and then finishes her thought.
"I'm just really grateful we didn't lose her too."
"I know," Joanne says honestly, giving her hand a soft squeeze, "me too."
