A/N: Okay, so back in June I watched the PBS taping of the musical Chess, and the entire time I kept going "IDINA! *spaz* ADAM! *spaz* THEM SINGING TOGETHER! *spaz*" So, of course, this story came to mind. Partly because of that, partly because there's not enough Maureen and Roger stuff. And yeah, I'm just finally getting the chance to upload it, but that's alright, you'll get over it. This story takes place pre-RENT, 'cause I said so! Enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own RENT, or Chess [the musical or the game].
Roger sat on the sofa in the loft strumming his guitar, enjoying the unusually peaceful atmosphere. It was shattered in a moment, however, when Maureen came flouncing in and plopped down on the sofa next to him, sighing dramatically.
"Whattsa matter with you?" he asked, not looking up from the chord he was trying to form.
"There's nothing to do around here," Maureen complained.
"What are you talking about? There's plenty of stuff to do around here!" Roger protested.
"Playing that guitar all day is not exciting. Neither is staring at dust. That exhausts all my options," she pointed out.
"Go shopping," Roger suggested. "Girls like to do that, right?"
"No money dip shit," Maureen reminded him.
"Oh yeah. Well go do something with someone."
"Everyone's so boring. Everything's boring since Collins went off to NYU. I miss him," she said quietly.
Roger looked up, not used to Maureen's voice being anything below screaming. Her head was bowed, and she was blinking her eyes furiously, trying not to cry. "Aw, Mo," he said, putting his guitar aside and placing his arms around her shoulders. Maureen leaned her head against his shoulder, and Roger rubbed small circles on her arm as she hiccuped.
After only a moment, she had calmed down and Roger said, "What about Mark? Where's he at?" This didn't have the desired effect of cheering her up, instead it made her face furrow in rage.
"He's off filming something with that god damn camera of his," she muttered darkly.
"Are things alright with you guys?" Roger asked, concerned for his friends' relationship. They did seem to be fighting an awful lot lately.
"He doesn't seem to care about me anymore. He'd rather spend an entire day in the middle of the slums videotaping homeless people than spending time with me. I feel unwanted," she explained.
"I would too," Roger said, hugging her tightly, as if he could dispel all the evil. "Thanks," Maureen said, straightening up and shaking her head to clear her thoughts.
"You wanna play a game?" Roger asked, in another attempt to cheer her up. "What kind of game?" she replied suspiciously. "Like a board game, Mo. Mind out of the gutter please," he replied with a dramatic sigh that could rival hers. "Sure!" she said, her happy spirit coming back. "What do we have?"
Roger got up and went into his bedroom. "Umm, we could play…cards?" "No. Only fun when you're drunk and we don't have booze." "Parcheesi?" "I fail miserably at that." "Charades?" "What are we, fourteen?" "How about chess?"
Maureen's resounding, "YES!" settled that, and Roger brought the black and white checkered board out along with the plastic grocery bag containing the playing pieces. The two roommates sat on the floor and began setting up the board, Roger white and Maureen black.
They played in silence for awhile, Roger making strategic moves, and Maureen concentrating as hard as she could, but sucking anyways. Thinking? Yeah, not her strong point.
Twenty minutes later, and Maureen had managed to capture two of Roger's pawns, and he had taken most of her pieces. Maureen huffed, and she must have guessed [how ever could she?] that she was about to lose, because she flipped the board upside down, sending the remaining pieces flying across the loft.
"What the fuck Maureen? What'd you do that for?" Roger demanded.
"I was losing!"
"So?"
"So…I didn't want to and now that we can't finish the game, no one's won!"
"You're demented," Roger muttered as he lay down on his stomach to try and get the chess pieces out from under the sofa. His torso was under the furniture, and his plaid clad legs and clunk work boots stuck out from under the edge of the green couch.
Maureen, deciding to be evil, sat on his legs, making it impossible for him to move from under the sofa.
"Mo!" Roger cried, "Get off!"
"I seem to have lost the ability to move," she replied in a monotone. He thrashed about wildly, causing Maureen to giggle uncontrollably.
The door to the loft banged open and both of them stopped moving. "If that's April, I swear Mo," Roger muttered.
"Hello Benny," Maureen remarked, trying not to burst out laughing. "Aw shit man," was heard audibly from under the couch. The rocker was not happy to face public humiliation for this.
"Who are you sitting on?" Benny asked. "You can't tell by the pants?" Maureen asked incredulously. "Wow you're dumber than you look." "I'm just gonna take that as a compliment," Benny said, walking over and perching on the coffee table. "Why exactly are you sitting on Roger, Mo?"
"'Cause he's been a baaaaaaaad boy!" Maureen crowed, laughing maniacally, causing Roger to begin thrashing again. "I see," Benny said, lying through his teeth. "And what exactly did he do?" "He didn't let me win," the diva pouted.
Benny laughed at Maureen and pulled her off of Roger, who scooted out from under the couch as quickly as he could, afraid of being trapped again. Maureen giggled at the sight of him, and he chucked a chess piece at her head. She ducked out of the way as Benny advised him, "She's competitive and a sore loser."
"No shit," was the witty response. Roger stood and glared at Maureen.
"I wanna rematch."
A/N: Admittedly not my best work. But I'm sleep deprived. Oh, and if you didn't already figure this out, I'M BACK BITCHES! So I'll be updating my other stories soon! Hopefully…Push the PURPLE BUTTON OF AWESOMENESS!!! Actually, I think it's green now. Damn. Fine then. PUSH THE GREEN BUTTON OF SUPERFANTABULOUSNESS! It will give you Wicked powers! Haha yays for the bad pun! Anyways, I'll shut up now.