Okay first off I have to say that this is the first fic I've written in a while. Yeah.

Disclaimer: Not mine! All characters totally go to Jonathan Larson…sigh I heart him.

Okay enjoy!

"Where could it be?" Mark mutters to himself as he continues to search the loft for his lost item, "I swear I saw not that long ago." He walks over to the table and starts rummaging through the reels of film that are lying around. One title catches his eye.

"Bullshit" He reads the piece of masking tape with the word scribbled across in a fading permanent marker. There isn't much film on the reel but feeling curiosity tickle the reaches of his mind, he sets up the projector. As Mark is putting up the tattered sheet that would serve as a screen, he hears the metal door slide open and looks to see Roger walking in with his guitar.

"Hey, Mark...I didn't know you were working on a film," Roger inquires, cocking his head to the side to put emphasis on his own curiosity. He looks at the filmmaker's expression of surprise and slightly disheveled appearance, "Are you okay?" Mark is wearing one of his many sweaters, but it is half tucked into jeans that seem to fit loosely around his skinnier-than-normal waist, with the sleeves rolled up. His hair is sticking out in all directions from the many times a hand has been worked through it. And Roger can see, even with his thick framed glasses, there are circles under Mark's eyes.

"Oh, I'm not...Working on anything that is. I was looking for something and I stumbled across this..." Mark points to the reel of film. There is a slight moment before an expression of recognition crosses his face.

"And yes I am doing...just fine. No caffeine or sleep for," Mark glances at his watch, "Hmm...I'd say thirty –six hours."

"Why?" Roger asks in disbelief, "What could possibly be your motive for not sleeping."

"Um...Good question," Mark shrugs as he laces his fingers together and rests them behind his head.

"You don't know do you." Roger more states than asks in a flat tone.

"Precisely...It was one of those 'I don't feel like it' moments last night when I fell into my bed." Mark brings his arms over his head, running his hands over his hair making it stick out in more directions.

"Ah...So what do you say we look at this reel?" Roger decides he doesn't want to run around in circles in the pursuit to find the cause of Mark's temporary insomnia.

"Right"

Roger is sitting on the couch with a hand full of cards. Mimi sits beside him. Angel has a handful of cards as well, sitting across from the two in the armchair. The three players keep placing cards down on the table.

"Two aces," Roger places two cards down and glances to Mimi, his eyes flickering to Angel momentarily then back to Mimi. Before Mimi can put her cards down Angel grins, "Bullshit!"

"Damn it, Angel!" Roger shakes his head as he takes the pile of cards, almost doubling his hand, "How do you do that?"

"I'm psychic..." She trails moving her eyes to Mimi. The dancer lays three cards down, "Three twos."

"Two threes," Angel states winking in the camera's direction.

"Ah-hah! Bullshit!" Roger exclaims, a smile spreading along his face.

"Go ahead, honey. Look for yourself."

Roger's face drops at Angel's challenge. He hesitates and then reaches to the top card. He looks at Mimi who gives him a small smile prompting him to go on. Roger lifts the top two cards and he doesn't have to say a thing as his scowl signals Angel's celebratory yelp.

"Damn it," Roger says as Mimi giggles and leans over to give him a small kiss on the cheek.

"Aw. Don't worry Rog. It's only a game," Mimi states giving Roger a small smile. He smiles back even though it's apparent he would rater sulk about the matter.

"What's just a game?" A loud voice is heard from off camera. The camera is redirected to the front door of the loft where the owner of the voice, namely Collins, is taking off his boots.

"Hey, Collins," Mark's voice shouts from behind the camera, "B.S...Roger sucks at it."

"I do not!" Roger yells as the camera refocuses on the game. Collins leans against the arm of Angel's chair.

"Bull shit!" Mark's voice yells as everyone but Roger laughs lightly at the bad pun.

"See, Mark can call a B.S. Why don't you join the game Mark?" Angel teases.

"No thanks. And Roger, no offence man, but you have a horrible poker face. Maybe you should just stick to playing the guitar and not cards."

"Shut up, Mark," Roger replies though he laughs knowing it's true.

Mark chuckles as the screen goes white when the short reel ends. Roger frowns and looks over from his seat on the couch to his roommate. Mark starts to laugh out loud at nothing in particular, bringing his knees up to his chest, clutching them. Roger sits back and frowns again. Before he can say anything the sound of a knock on the door is heard. Then a head pokes into the room.

"Hey Collins," Roger says, standing to greet their other roommate. After Angel's death he stayed with them a while then started looking for a place of his own. Mark and Roger convinced him to stay with them though, worried about him after such big loss.

"What the...?" Collins inquires about the filmmaker's odd behavior. Roger and Collins embrace for a moment before turning to look at the spectacle that Mark had become, who was no longer laughing but giggling.

"Thirty-six hours without any caffeine or sleep...apparently," Roger explains.

"Damn" Collins exclaims, "Mark, buddy, you okay?"

"Hmm...I don't know!" Mark sighs and exclaims as Collins places a hand on his shoulder.

"Bullshit, Mark." Roger states.

"Aha! You're getting better...Yay for Roger."

"I think you need to go to bed," Roger replies. Mark sits up and frowns slightly. His breathing slows and he sits back, closes his eyes and sighs. He opens his eyes and looks at Roger.

"Have you ever experienced that odd sensation when you're too tired to sleep?"

"Yeah...it happened all the time when I was grading papers," Collins answers, "Is that what's going on?"

"Pretty much," Marks says. He stretches his arms above his head before standing up and looking through the other reels. He spots one picks it up, reading the title.

"'Joanne's Seduction'? Hey this isn't in my handwriting." Roger and Collins look at each other with the same confused expression, then back to Mark who mirrors their faces. He takes the last reel out and replaces it with this new one. After flipping the switch on the projector he settles him self at one end of the couch. Collins sits down on the other end and stretches his long legs out in front of him. Roger takes his seat in the chair next to the couch, bringing his legs up next to him.

The camera focuses on Maureen in the chair that is placed by the couch; there is the sound of friendly commotion around her. The scene seems to be placed in the loft. The camera sweeps around the room and the frame shakes a bit, it looks like the camera was almost dropped.

"Marky, watch it! You're gonna brake that damn thing if you aren't careful," the young woman says. She shakes her head as the frame tips slightly from the filmmaker's obvious inability, at the time, to hold the camera.

Mark's voice comes out slurred, "Maureen, th'r's a slight problem wi'zat. See...see I... am a- FUCKING ASSHOLE!" There is a loud crashing noise along with a few choice words streaming from Mark's mouth, "Damn coffee table. Tha' fuckin' hurt."

"Well Mark, if you hadn't been drinking so much damn vodka then your failing ability to keep balance wouldn't be an issue." Roger's voice drifts from the side of the frame. The camera focuses on Maureen some more and tips from one side to the next. "In fact give me that." The frame is blurry for a moment or two as the camera focuses in its new star. Mark, in all his drunken glory, has his jeans rolled up to his knees with his bright white socks pulled up to mid calf, his sleeves are rolled up, and his shoes are off. His eyes are glazed over as he frowns in concentration to focus on the camera.

"Wha' ishhue?" Mark slurs.

"Never mind. How's about you go and sit over on the...okay" Roger says but gives up on his original idea for Mark to sit on the couch as he goes to sit on the arm of Maureen's chair .She giggles as he sits and almost falls over on top of her.

"Hey gorgeous," Mark says as he gives a sloppy lopsided grin .He slides down to sit next to her and slings an arm around her shoulders.

"Mark!" Joanne's voice drifts from the side of the camera as it then focuses on her as she places her hand on her hips with an amused smirk on her lips.

"You need to back away from my woman." She adds with a playful tone.

"Aww, Pookie! He's drunk he doesn't mean anything by it" Maureen giggles and Mark mimics her giggling until he falls off the chair. Joanne grabs him from around the waist and hauls him up to his feet.

"Spank you, Muh'lady," Mark slurs. Joanne tries to let go but Mark starts to fall over. She readjusts her hold on him. He slings his arm around her neck to support himself.

"You mean 'Thank you'," Joanne says. Mark's glazed eyes drift up as he tries to focus on Joanne.

"I love it when you talk like that…" He says and leans up and sloppily places a kiss on her lips. Joanne's eyes go wide as saucers and when Mark pulls back she drags him to sit on the couch. She walks off and as the camera focuses on Mark's confused expression there is a sound of running water. Mark's eyes wander around the room and then he sighs. Joanne then appears with a glass of water. With a second of contemplation, instead of handing him the glass she poises it above his head and tips it over. Mark's face goes form blank to surprise it seconds and he looks up at the lawyer, water dripping from his hair glasses.

"Wha' the hell wha's tha' for?" He yells. The room falls silent then everyone bursts out laughing.

"Good night, Mark" is Joanne's only reply as she takes Maureen's hand. Maureen leans down and gives him a small kiss on the cheek as she passes. Roger's laughter is heard from behind the camera before the screen goes white.

Roger looks at Collins for a few moments before the two men start to laugh out right. Mark glares at the two of them in turn. He then stands up and walks to the projector and turns it off.

"I don't see what's so funny…" He trails as he turns to the laughing men. They calm themselves and turn to watch the filmmaker as he starts to rummage through a couple more reels lying on the table.

"No offence, man," Collins says, grinning widely, "But you don't get drunk often."

"One would think that is a good thing." Mark replies flatly.

"Well," Roger says, "I think he means that when you do get drunk…"

"It's fucking hilarious. I mean I think I remember that," Collins laughs as he points to the screen.

"I remember you the next morning…" Roger trails as he looks to the ceiling in thought.

"I don't." Mark replies, frustrated by his roommates' cheerful moods. He has been awake for almost two days.

"Well, one, you wouldn't shut up about your headache. And then when Maureen and Joanne came over for brunch you were completely oblivious to what you had done. I mean, you remembered…"

Roger trails off and then his face lights up. He jumps up and walks over to the table. He goes through a couple reels, reading the labels, until he comes across one. "Ah-ha!"

Roger snatches the reel up and starts to replace the last one with this with this new reel.

"Uh…Rog?" Mark asks as he sits down, "What are you doing?"

"Well, I filmed what happened that morning. So…" Roger flips the switch, "I figure instead of listening to me talk we'll watch it." He grins as he sits down.

"You used my camera without telling me?!"

"Yes, now shush and watch"

The camera is focused on Joanne's eyes as they travel to Mark a few times. He is sitting on the couch looking down with a small blush that has crept onto his face. She sits back and then leans forward.

"Mark," She prompts, "Is there something you want to say. You know, to Maureen and my self?"

"Pookie! He was drunk! Leave him alone" Maureen pouts and then turns to Mark, "Don't you worry about it, Mark."

"No, she's right. I need to face this, Maureen," the filmmaker looks up at the two women, "Maureen it's been two years since you broke up with me, and I know that. I am sorry that I called you 'gorgeous' in such a drunken state. I mean not that you aren't- that is…Uh-"

"It's okay..." Maureen answers and leans over to give him small hug.

"Whew…that wasn't so bad." Mark says and sits back. He starts to rub the side of his head in an attempt to sooth his headache. Joanne is seen leaning forward as if waiting for him so say something else.

"Mark," Joanne prompts again.

"Yes?"

"Anything else?"

"Um...no?"

Joanne sits back with a half glare, a look of suspicion shifting onto her face. Mark looks at her with his own confused expression. He shrugs in question as if to ask 'What?'

"You mean you remember calling my girlfriend 'gorgeous' but you don't remember kissing me?"

Mark's face drops for a moment. He sits still before he looks up at the ceiling in thought, sifting through his memory of the previous night. Then a look of horror crosses his face. Roger's and Mimi's laughter are heard softly off camera.

"Oh…my...God! Did I...really? I am so, so, so, so, so, sorry!" Mark starts to rant, "I mean if I had been sober- I'll never drink again… feel so bad. Oh, Joanne… I don't know what to say…I'm just so sorry…"

"Mark," Joanne say,s her irritated look fading into one of small amusement, "Its fine…I mean if you hadn't been completely trashed that kiss wouldn't have been half bad."

"Joanne!" Maureen yells surprised but then laughs merrily at her lover's comment.

"What? It's true…But try to watch how much you drink in the future, m'kay, Mark?"

"Yeah…"

The screen goes white again. Mark moves to remove the reel from the projector. He puts it on the table and then sits again.

"Okay, okay lesson learned. Mark plus alcohol equals bad," Mark muses and sighs, "Oh, what have you been doing anyway? I haven't seen you in a couple days, Roger?"

"Yeah, man, where have you been?" Collins pitches in.

"I've just been with Mimi…It's just easier to stay with her when I can't think of anything to write. She just helps me get into that centered place where I can think…creatively. I dunno…She's my muse."

"Oh how is she doing?"

"Good, not bad."

"That's good…How about you Collins? Where're you been?"

"Man, I've been here. And at work, but when I was here earlier you were like a zombie. I tried to give you something to eat like four times last night and you didn't say a thing. What have you been doing?"

Roger and Collins both give Mark a concerned look. They both know that their friend has his moments when his filming goes slowly and then he will get a big idea and he works nonstop. Rarely does Mark stay awake for long periods of time without eating or drinking. He looks up at then and then down at his hands. He wrings them together a few times before looking up at Collins.

"It was Halloween."

"What?" Collins asks.

"The other day, when I started searching, it was Halloween. The day Angel's funeral was held," Mark pauses, "I thought it would be a good idea to watch Today 4 U…but I can't find it."

"Mark, you don't have to worry about it." Collins says and stands up. He walks over to his friend and bends over to embrace him, "But thanks anyway, man."

"Hey Mark? Have you tried looking in your room? You know, like, next to your bed?" Roger says. Mark shoots up and runs into his room area. Collins smiles at Roger as the two hear the sound of Mark looking through his stuff. The two jump slightly when they hear Mark give a whoop. They glance as he walks out with a grin plastered on his face.

"I found it! Thanks, Roger."

Roger just shrugs as he observes Mark as he puts the film on. He flips the switch on the projector and sits down. As the film starts to roll the three men start to relax a little more into their seats.

A few minutes in Roger looks over to Mark to congratulate him on the great film for the hundredth time sine he's seen it. But as his gaze falls on Mark he sees the filmmaker's head resting on his chest and his eyes closed.

Roger smiles, thankful that his friend finally is going to get some sleep.

Thanks and please review ...I live for those...