Fairy Wings
A/N…I got sick of writing sad, sappy fics, so I wrote this one…R&R, please! AU-Angel lives! She's my favorite.
"Oh, come on, it's not that bad. They're just fairy wings."
"Easy for you to say, Ang." Mark glowered at her. The drag queen giggled and ran at Mark. "NO!" He yelled as he put up his arms in an attempt to shield himself, only to be defeated.
Angel tackled Mark, knocking him to the floor with a loud thud. "Oh my god, are you alright?" Her face switched from play to concern so quickly that if Mark had blinked, he would have missed it. Her voice was frantic, jumping up an octave or two. When she saw the filmmaker laughing, her expression relaxed.
"Please, Mark? Wear the wings. For me." Angel gave him the puppy dog eyes, which she was very good at. "Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. We've been through this already. Remember? Last night?" Mark gave her an irritated look.
"Marky!!! I found you a Halloween costume!!!!" Angel hollered as she banged noisily into the loft.
"Dear God, help me please…" Mark thought to himself. Angel had a knack for choosing very…interesting costumes, seeing as it was her favorite holiday. "What'd you find, Ang?" His mouth dropped in utter horror at the sight of the outfit.
Sparkly pink tutu, red ballet shoes, and pink fairy wings. Mark was horrified. He thought of asking Angel if she was holding up the wrong costume, but it was the only one she was carrying. Mark's mouth opened and closed a few times before he could speak.
"Um, Angel? You bought me a tutu. And wings."
"Uh huh! And ballet shoes!!" She sounded so pleased with herself. Mark opened his mouth in protest, but got no where, taking note of the fact that he wouldn't win the debate that would follow.
"Do you wanna come in? You look pretty cold, there." Mark was trying to get Angel into the loft, and possibly trying to get her to get rid of that fugly costume.
"Angel? Is there any way in hell that I am going to get away with not wearing that costume?" Mark was practically begging her to get rid of it.
She laughed her bell-like laugh. "Ha ha, no way in hell. Sorry, Marky."
three days later…Halloween Day
Maureen showed up at the loft first, wearing the shortest dress known to humanity. She was without Joanne. Roger had looked up first when she let herself into the cold room. He was ogling at the extremely attractive lesbian in the bright blue mini dress. The rocker leaned over to Mark and whispered, "Damn, Mark…too bad she dumped you for a woman." When he saw the hurt in Mark's eyes, Roger immediately wished he could take his words back. "I'm sorry, man…I didn't mean it."
Mimi was next, in some outfit that Mark had seen Angel wear a few times. "Hey, boys, hey Mo," Was all she said before climbing into Roger's lap on the sofa. Angel and Collins showed up next, wearing something that fell out of the 60s. Their costumes were wonderful. Bright, cheery, obnoxious… "Just like the two of them," Mark thought to himself. All they needed was Joanne, and for Mark to change into his costume and they'd be ready to go out.
She burst through the door with a greater entrance than the Queen of England would have wanted. Ironically enough, Joanne was the Queen…for Halloween, of course.
"Gosh, Mark…way to plan a costume party and not even dress up for it…." Joanne put her hands on her hips playfully then said, "I'm just playin' wit you boy, go get dressed up!"
Mark reluctantly pulled himself from his comfortable position on the couch and headed to the bedroom. Ten minutes later, after the Bohemians had had to sit through Mark yelling at his costume, he emerged from the room. It was quiet for a small moment…a very small moment. And the room burst into laughter.
Mark stood in the doorway of the small bedroom, blushing every shade of red and pink imaginable. He was standing there, clad in pink mesh and red faux leather…looking like an idiot. No one could catch their breath for at least five minutes. When someone could breathe, Mark couldn't tell who, but they said, "…Was…this…Angel…?!….."
Mark replied in a sarcastic, droll tone. "How did you know?"