Disclaimer: It's not mine. Thank you Jonathan Larson.

Matching Maureen

Summary: Maureen plays inadvertent matchmaker for two unsuspecting roommates with her latest protest. AUish Maur/Mar/Rog & Mo/Jo, Two-shot

"Pooky I swear-"

"Don't pooky me Maureen, I'm sick of this, of you constantly stringing me along, toying with me. I'm done; I can't do it anymore,"

"Just let me explain!"

"There's nothing to explain, they were all over you,"

"Yeah but-"

"And you did nothing to stop it,"

"But-"

"Don't even deny that you weren't enjoying it," Joanne said in a dangerously calm tone, taking a step towards Maureen. "I saw that look on your face,"

"Joanne listen to me-"

"We're over,"

Tears of frustration had sprouted in the diva's heavily lined eyes. Maureen wasn't accustomed to not being allowed to speak, especially when what she had to say was of vital importance (which was most of the time).

"I can't believe you could just throw this away after everything we've been through together. I thought we were going to be okay, and then you go and do something like this,"

"Joanne-"

"Goodbye Maureen,"

The tears escaped their eyelash prison, caught by high cheekbones and plump lips. Maureen stood by helplessly as Joanne, the one person she ever truly loved stormed out of the apartment, and out of her life, forever.

A Few Hours Earlier…

"Come on pooky can you please do this for me?"

"Maureen, I'm really not comfortable-"

"Mark, I need you,"

"Why can't you get someone else?"

"Jesus Mark, I can't just go pick some random person on the street; I need someone I trust,"

"You trust Joanne, get her to do it for you,"

Mark knew better than to try and brush off the pushy drama queen. He understood better than anyone how determined she was to get her own way.

Maureen will stop at nothing.

Still, he did his best to distract himself from her whiny demands, trying to focus on a few frames of footage he had cut earlier, and were now replaying over and over in an endless loop, waiting to be tied into his latest film.

"She would never go for it; you're the only one who can pull this off,"

"Maureen, I'm trying to-"

"Please Mark, I never ask you for anything, just do this one teeny, tiny favor for me,"

"No, it'll be too awkward,"

"It's only going to be as awkward as you make it out to be, it's not like we've never done this before,"

"Well I don't remember ever performing it for an audience,"

"But that's the whole point! People act like sex is some taboo thing that has to be ignored. We're going to show the world that it's a natural, beautiful, act and it should be celebrated not shunned,"

"And you need me why?"

"Because you have a penis!"

"I don't get it… you're a lesbian,"

"Yeah, so?"

"…Why aren't you staging your protest with a woman instead of a man,"

"Because I'm protesting sexual boundaries!" Maureen shouted, waving her arms about for dramatic effect. "I'm breaking the stereotype that lesbians only have sex with other women,"

"…lesbians do only have sex with other women,"

"You see, that's the exact thing I want to protest. Everyone is so black and white when it comes to sex. It's not right,"

"So you want to have sex with a man, onstage, in front of people, to protest the stereotype that lesbians only have sex with women?"

"No! The whole point is freedom. People should be able to have sex with whoever they want without a label,"

"So you're saying everyone should be bi?"

"You're missing the point completely Marky-"

"Don't call me Marky,"

"Fine, Mark, I'm protesting people limiting their sexual freedom because of society's expectations,"

"…I still don't get it,"

"Ugh, Mark you're so damn thick sometimes. You'll understand when you see it all together,"

"Uh…"

"Now go get Roger and we'll start rehearsing,"

"Wait, Roger's in on this?!"

"Yeah, I asked him last night,"

"He's… like the director or something, right?"

"Ew, no! Why would I have Roger direct?" Maureen said disgusted. "He's in the protest,"

"Like… in it, in it?" Mark's face had taken on an impressive shade of scarlet at the newest development in Maureen's scheme.

"Of course,"

"I can't do it,"

"The protest is about breaking through these boundaries Marky. I'm a lesbian messing around with men, and you're two "straight" guys fooling around,"

"No way,"

"Oh come on, it's not like you're actually going to have sex with anyone on stage, it's all metaphorical,"

"I don't care,"

"It'll be fun,"

"Ha,"

It was at that time Roger chose to emerge from his bedroom in nothing but low riding sweatpants. Last night's grime shone shimmered on his skin and through his hair. He was dirty, disgusting, smelled like yesterday's curdled milk, and Mark was inexplicably attracted.

Despite the fresh, chilly spring air, the filmmaker found himself suddenly breaking into a hot sweat.

"You guys ready to get the show on the road?"

"What?!" If Mark wasn't wearing glasses, his eyes would have fallen out of his head and been lost in the muck that covered every spare inch of the loft. "You're actually going along with this?"

"Why not?" Roger shrugged, sinewy muscles twisting brilliantly under a thin layer of white skin.

Mark's blush grew deeper.

"See, Roger has an open mind," Maureen cut in.

"Yeah, he also lost half of his brain cells to heroin,"

"Watch it," he shot the filmmaker a gaze fierce enough to stop a train.

"Don't be so defensive Marky. Be open, like Roger," she said, sending the musician a blinding grin of approval. "Think of it as a new experience,"

"Come on Mark, it'll be fun," Roger coaxed.

The filmmaker swallowed harshly and averted his eyes from his roommates' incredibly toned torso.

He couldn't help but think how Roger hadn't earned his physique. Excessive amounts of drugs and alcohol and laziness should have ruined the musician's body, yet here he was in all his perfect, half-naked glory.

It wasn't fair.

"I don't think so,"

Better safe than sorry.

"Please pooky,"

Falling to her knees, Maureen clutched Mark's legs tightly, refusing to relinquish them until he agreed to perform in her protest.

He had long ago learned to ignore the diva's over-dramatic theatrics.

"Why the hell would you ever agree to this?" Mark asked Roger who had buried himself inside the broken refrigerator, searching for nonexistent food. His dirty head popped out of the appliance and turned to face his best friend.

The only response Roger offered was the combination of a strange grimace and shrug, before immediately returning to his quest for food,

Mark sighed.

"I need to get drunk,"

I am well aware of the extreme "crack" factor of this fic… and I don't really care all that much.

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