When You're Cold and You're Lonely

Roger woke up late on a Wednesday morning. The loft was quiet, but he couldn't get back to sleep so he went to get something to drink. There was a note from Mark on the kitchen counter.

Rog, it said

I went to look for a job. Maureen is still here. Be nice! I'll be back in a few hours. TAKE YOUR AZT!!

Roger smiled at that. Mark was always after him to take his AZT and to be nicer to Maureen. Ever since Collins had left for MIT and Benny had moved out, he only had Mark to watch out for him. Maureen really could have cared less.

Speaking of Maureen, Roger decided it was time to go and bother her. It was one of the only things that kept him going since he had lost April. Maureen's door was partially open and Roger peered inside at her. Or rather the top of her head since that's all he could see of her. The rest was buried under the thin blanket. Suddenly, she sneezed violently and sniffed.

"You okay Mo?" Roger asked.

Maureen lowered the blanket from her face. Her usually rosy skin was very pale. "Like you care." she replied weakly.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Yeah well I'd rather you didn't die here in Mark's bed. He wouldn't like that. So why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"I feel like shit." Maureen told him.

"Hey that's funny, you look like shit too." Roger said back with a smile.

Maureen groaned and pulled the cover back over her head. "Just leave me alone." she snapped. "Go mope somewhere and leave me the hell alone."

Roger sighed. He would rather be alone than babysitting Mark's spoiled girlfriend. But Mark had always been there for him and April, so he figured he owed it to him. So he entered the room and scooped Maureen up, blanket and all.

"Roger put me down!" she shrieked. "I'm not even dressed yet."

He dumped her back on the bed. "Mo please. It's not like you've got anything I haven't seen before." She just glared at him. "Fine." he huffed. "Get dressed."

"It hurts too much." she whined and tried to climb back under the blanket.

"Oh no you don't." Roger said and pulled off his own shirt. It was a couple of sizes too large for him, so he figured that it would cover Maureen. "Here, put this on." he said and tossed it at her.

Maureen's eyes widened as she looked at Roger's bare chest. "Roger put your shirt back on." she ordered. "It's cold in here."

"You're the one who's sick." Roger retorted. "Just put on the shirt before I force you into it."

Maureen obliged and began to pull the shirt over her head. "Why are you being so nice to me Roger Davis?" she demanded. "You hate me for some reason, remember?"

"Yeah, but Mark's my best friend. He would be distraught if something were to happen to you. So come on, we're going into the other room so I can keep an eye on you." He scooped her up again. This time she didn't protest, just laid her head against his shoulder and allowed him to carry her into the main room and lay her on the couch.

Roger dipped into his room for a minute and returned wearing another shirt and carrying his guitar. He sat down on the dilapidated chair adjacent to the equally dilapidated couch that Maureen was lying on, dozing gently. He began to gently strum a few random chords in no particular order.

About an hour had passed when Roger started to feel a little hungry. He glanced over at Maureen who was still sleeping and decided it was time for some lunch. He gently shook his charge awake.

"Huh?" she mumbled sleepily.

"What do you want to eat for lunch?" he asked her. "You must be hungry." Maureen's stomach answered before she could. He smiled. "I'll see what I can find."

After rummaging in all the cabinets, Roger found a can of chicken soup that wasn't too dented. Remembering that his mother had said soup was good when you were sick, he heated it up. Checking the clock he saw that it was almost one. He got his AZT out and poured a glass of water. "Hey Maureen, want to see a trick?" he called.

She coughed and sat up. "What kind of trick?"

"Just watch." Roger answered. He looked at the clock. "Ten, nine, eight."

"I don't get it." Maureen told him.

"Five, four, three, two, one" Roger continued. Then right on cue his AZT beeper went off and the phone rang shrilly. He laughed and went to answer it. "I'm taking it now Mark." he said.

"Very funny." Mark replied. "I see I've trained you well. So what's going on over there?"

Roger paused to take his pill. "Well I'm making some soup for lunch right now. And Maureen's sick. How goes the job hunt?"

"Sucky. Apparently, amateur filmmaking isn't a valid skill. Is Mo okay?"

"I've got it under control." Roger assured him. "Hey soups on. We'll save you some."

"Alright. If you're sure she's okay." Mark said. "Give Maureen a kiss for me."

"Um, hell no." was the response and the two friends hung up. Roger went over to the stove and turned off the soup. He poured it into two bowls, leaving a little for Mark, and went back to where Maureen was.

"He worries about you." she said softly and accepted her bowl of soup.

"Is that why you hate me?" Roger demanded still standing over her.

Maureen looked up at him. "I don't hate you." she said. "Really." a few coughs racked in her chest and Roger leaned over and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "That's from Mark." he told her and went over to his chair. "I'm not the only one he worries about."

"Is that why you hate me?" Maureen wanted to know.

"Yes." Roger said simply. "That, and your annoying singing voice." He sipped at his soup for a minute, then his features softened. "Maureen?" She raised her eyes to his. "I don't hate you. Anymore. You're not that bad. I guess." he finished.

Needless to say, it was a very different sight that greeted Mark when he came home a few hours later. He walked in to find Roger playing a song while Maureen sang softly.

"Did I walk into the twilight zone or something?" he asked. "I thought one of you would be dead or at least severely injured when I got back."

Roger grinned at him. "Now Mark. Why would you think something like that? Maureen and I are great friends."

"Yeah." Maureen concurred. "Come have some soup."

Mark shook his head. Laughing, he went to go eat with the two people he loved most in the world.

A/N: So this was just a one-shot that I thought of the other day. I really like doing these in the midst of all the long stories that I have going. I'm also thinking about doing another song-fic like Hate Me. So keep a lookout for that.