Hello all. So I'm not sure how this story is going over...if there's even any interest...but I'm continuing anyways, just to see where it goes. So I know the first chapter was vague and a little confusing, so let me clarify a couple things now:

This fic takes place almost six years after the end of RENT (RENT ended December 1990, this fic starts in April 1996) and Mark is 29 years old. Collins moved to California to teach at UCSD in January, 1993 and Maureen and Joanne moved to Los Angeles (where Joanne opened her own law practice) January 1996, so just a few months prior to this.

I know there were a lot of characters thrown around in the first chapter. Grace is going to be the only OC actually important to the story. The rest are just the people Mark works with in his filmmaking career.

More information about what has happened in the past six years will be told as the story goes.

I do not own RENT or any characters therein.

Family

Mark finished buttoning up his shirt as he walked into the kitchen.

"Why are you dressed for work?" Grace's voice called at him, confusion nearly masking the subtle note of annoyance to her tone.

Mark sighed as he faced her. "I have to go in for a couple quick meetings."

"You're supposed to have Saturdays off." She reminded him, green eyes glinting in irritation.

He walked over, kissing her apologetically on the cheek. "We start production in less than two weeks. Things are a little chaotic right now. But you know that once all the details are fine-tuned, the ball will be totally in Robert's court… and I can just stand back and watch him ruin my work." He added the last with a wry grin.

"Don't stand back too much, baby. This screenplay was really good. But fine, I guess I can put up with it for another few days." She muttered.

"That's my girl." He kissed her again. "Its only a couple meetings…I'll be home as soon as I can, promise."

"You better. I'm making spinach lasagna tonight."

"Lucky me, married the only woman in the world who can make spinach tasty." He teased lightly before leaving for work.

LINELINELINELINE

Mark smiled as he watched Grace wipe at her forehead, a spot of tomato sauce appearing where her hand touched. How did I get so lucky to find her?

Grace paid no mind to her watcher as she continued cooking, humming a few bars of Eleanor Rigby to herself. She was a lovely, petite woman with freckles on her olive toned skin and short cropped, eternally unruly black hair. She worked as a music journalist and wrote her reviews and articles on an antique typewriter she kept in their study, and therefore only worked away from home a couple nights a week. Her clothing of choice was well worn in blue jeans coupled with band tees she got free from reviewing performances all over New York.

She was an incredibly compassionate and loyal woman, and Mark used to wonder how she held her own against all types of musicians, from classical to underground punk, until he watched how she could turn on an amazingly outgoing, motivated, and fearless side on whim. She was capable of great grace and femininity, and alternatively she swore like a sailor, held liquor like a man twice her size, and had a mischievous side the devil would be envious of. She was also prone to dramatic outbursts, hyperactive days, and she got annoyed and impatient easily.

Mark had met her four years back at a small dive called The Pit where she had been the opening act for a smalltime band he, Maureen and Joanne had gone to see. She sang like a rock goddess but it had been her soulful guitar playing and vibrant eyes that had caught his attention. She didn't like to play much anymore, but Mark knew it would never leave her soul completely.

He walked up behind her, kissing her neck gently. "So…remember our conversation last week?" he asked softly.

She turned to face him, wide-eyed. "You mean the one about kids?" she asked incredulously.

He nodded. "Yeah…that very unpleasant 'talk' we had."

"What about it?" her tone was cautious and he couldn't help dropping another kiss on her nape.

"Well…I've been thinking…and I don't think its that unpleasant of an idea after all." He said softly.

"Really?" Hope shone star bright in her eyes. "Are you being serious, sweetheart?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I am… I mean, if this film does as good as Robert thinks, I'll have a full blown career ahead of me and you already practically work from home, so we can finally afford to have a baby. We could make it work… I still think I'm not going to make father of the year…but I'm sure I'll do a better job than my parents…so let's give it a try."

"Well, so long as our kids turn out better than you did. I'm not raising any pussies." She teased.

"And I'm not raising any smart-asses." He teased back.

"Agreed, then. Also, our kids are not wearing anything pink or frilly."

"So long as you don't give them mohawks, I'm cool with whatever…now enough talking about babies, let's get to making some." Mark leered, wrapping her arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

"Oh, but I'm not done cooking!" she protested halfheartedly.

"I'm not that hungry yet anyways." He murmured, pulling her to the bedroom.

LINELINELINELINE

Mark moaned with pleasure, licking his lips clean. Damn, Grace is such a good cook. She looked over at him with amusement, taking a bite of her own lasagna

"The Williams invited us over for dinner next Sunday. I knew that was your day off so I told-

"I'm going to see Roger next Sunday. We'll be into filming by then and Robert's not going to need me for anything so I don't have to worry about being on call. I've been planning it for a couple weeks." Mark interrupted her.

She stopped immediately. "Oh." She watched Mark avoid her gaze for a moment before sighing. "So soon? You just saw him, honey."

He looked at her sharply. "Three months….Its been over three months, Grace."

She nodded softly. "Oh…I guess it has…it really didn't feel like that long."

They were silent for a moment before Grace sighed deeply, causing Mark to glare at her. "Do not give me that attitude, Grace. I do not need it right now." She should have been upset by how quickly his good mood had changed, but talking about his old roommate always caused this reaction in him.

"I know, Mark…its just that I don't get….why must you-"

"Don't give me that! You know I have to go."

"No you don't, Mark!" her voice was loud now, almost shouting, almost desperate. "You don't have to go. You don't. Its not like he's going to-"

"Don't say it. I don't want to hear it. I have to go and that's it." He stopped shouting, his voice lowering to just above a whisper as he met her eyes. "I need to go. I need to go. You know that's just how it is, Grace."

She stared at him, her eyes glossy and sad. They kept the silence, for a few seconds before she blinked and sighed. "I know, baby, I know…I'm sorry."

They were silent for a few moments before she sighed again, ignoring his glare. "Look just…just be careful okay? …And tell him I said 'hello' when you go." She added softly, knowing that neither of them would bring up the subject again until he left Sunday. Mark didn't like to talk about it.

LINELINELINE

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