"Happy anniversary, baby."

Shit. Anniversaries- aren't those only for married people? I don't know what anniversary she's talking about, but she'll kill me if I forgot it... which I did. Whatever, I'd better pretend I know what the hell she's talking about if I ever want to live (or have sex) again. "Um, happy anniversary?" I hope she didn't catch the 'um' or the hit of questioning in there. If she did, I'm in deep fucking shit.

"Roger don't tell me you forgot," she says, giving in my opinion, a very overly exasperated sigh. Why yes, Mimi, I did forget this anniversary. Actually, I'm not sure I eve knew it existed in the first place, so was there ever something to forget? Anyway, now she's going to go and make me feel guilty for forgetting now. If only she'd fucking tell me what anniversary I forgot, then maybe it would turn out that I would know what she's talking about. "Today's our four month anniversary," she continues watching for a sign of recognition from me. I sit there, my face blank.

"Jesus Mimi, how the hell was I supposed to know we'd be celebrating that?" Four month anniversary? I'd understand six month or something, but, correct me if I'm wrong, four is kind of an obscure number. Maybe she likes that number or something.

Mimi pouts. She knows I can't resist the pout. "We always celebrate our anniversaries." No we don't. She's grinning now. What the hell, I thought I was in trouble. "I even got you a present." A present? I'm all for this whole anniversary thing. I question as to what this present might be. "Oh," she says. Mimi Marquez, you wipe that grin off your pretty little face, it's making me nervous. "That's for later." Hey now Mimi, if that's for later, don't you go touching that now.

"But what if- whoa..." I'm at a loss of words. Maybe if she moved her hand I'd be able to talk. Besides, if she wants me to wait, she needs to stop that. "Hands off, babe, if you want me to wait." Our anniversary should come more often.

She's grinning again. "We have to wait." Oh yea? I think maybe you should tell that to your hand, it seems to have missed that memo. "Mark is throwing us a party." Looks like I'm the only one who forgot our 'anniversary.' But let's get real. If I'm supposed to be somewhere around people, even if it is just our friends, she needs to hurry her hand up. There's no way I can function at a party with blue balls. Zero chance.

I can hear people coming into the loft through the piece of shit excuse for a door. Scratch that, I hear Maureen coming in. Then again, a deaf guy could hear Maureen coming from three miles away. I tell Mimi to hurry up, people will wonder where the guests of honor ar. (It won't take them too long to figure it out once they take a listen by our door.)

"Mimi you gotta stop for a second, I hear someone coming," I say, holding her wrist. Of course, nothing stops her. Actually, that just makes her go faster. Damn that feels good. She says no and leans in to kiss me. I'm ready to come when Maureen walks in the door. Ten bucks says I saw that coming. Get the fuck out of here Maureen, get out now.

"Get out," I hear Mimi snap, not pausing her ministrations to look at Maureen. Of course, it had to be
Maureen to walk in. Cue shrieking and dramatics right about...

"JESUS, I'M SCARRED FOR LIFE! WHY DID YOU GUYS MAKE ME GO IN THERE?" Now. I can half hear her yelling at Mark, who apparently shot not going in. The other half of me that can't hear her is in complete bliss from my wonderful (and talented) girlfriend's hand. Damn. I like anniversaries much more than I did ten minutes ago.

Mimi finishes and tells me we should go out to the "party." Somehow I don't think we'll get out there without being the butt of ridicule and jokes that would be funny were they not on us. "Do we really have to?" I ask into her neck, my new (and very perfect) headrest as of late. She says yes, we do, because it's a party for us. Somehow I don't think they would mind partying without us. But hey, if it makes her happy...

We, (somehow, in ways unknown to myself) detangle ourselves from each other and the bed sheets and put clothes on. The (yes the) plaid pants and a plain black t-shirt for myself and a black shirt and a black skirt for Mimi. How much do I not want to go to this? A ton. I'd rather stay in bed with her and finish what she started. Screw the party. Or, screw the party if there's no alcohol.

As we emerge from the room, we're greeted by a fair amount of admittedly deserved mocking from Maureen. "Well, I'm surprised you two have come out, you looked pretty busy last time I saw you." Yea, you know what? Shut the fuck up, Maureen, and let's get drunk.

It doesn't end up being too easy to escape the commentary from the others either. There was Collins, with, "Roger just can't keep it in his pants for an hour." You know what? Suck it, Tom. Angel whispers something to him in Spanish and they laugh together. Great. Who knew Collins understood Spanish? Not me.

My favorite comment, however, must be, hands down, from Mark. He never knows when it's time to stop talking. "Yea well, at least you didn't interrupt them while they were fucking each other. Last week I went in to find a role of film Roger stole from me last week and Mimi was-" Thank you, Mark.

"Let's get drunk," I say loudly enough to cover up what Mark said, if he even got that far. I don't even know if there's anything to drink, but it saves me from further embarrassment. "Collins, Stoli." If anyone had anything, it would be him considering he's the only one who ever has that shit. Come on bastard, break it out, I know you have it.

Collins grins and pulls a whole bunch of paper cups and a bottle of Stoli from Angelís plastic pickle tub. ìYou know me too well,î he says, setting the cups out on the old metal table next to some of Markís film equipment that heís left there stupidly. Jesus Mark, no crying when your film shit is broken from this damn party. Oh, also no crying when I get really drunk and break out that film he was looking for in my room. Itís something along the lines of Mark with his old teddy bear that he keeps behind his pillow the last time he was drunk. Maybe tonight Mr. Stuffykins will make a reappearance.

ìHey! My film equipment, be careful!î Run, Mark, run! He skitters over to the table, scooping up his camera and film tins all together, rushing them off into his room. Donít forget to bring Mr. Stuffykins out Mark, we miss him.

Collins finishes pouring the vodka and everyone takes one, waiting for someone to say something. ìTo Roger and Mimi,î Angel begins, beaming at us with her cup raised high above her head. ìMany more, amigos.î

Mimi smiles bashfully and kisses my neck. Somehow I have a feeling weíre not going to be at this party for too long. Iím seeing many difficulties keeping my hands off of her for too long. ìMm, baby, save it for later,î I mutter into her ear, wrapping one arm around her middle, holding my drink with the other. See? Canít keep my hands off her.

ìTo great sex for a long, long time!î Maureen says jubilantly as we all touch cups together and drink. Exactly.