A/N: Again, love the reviews! Please keep 'em coming! This chapter was a little harder coming; I think I erased more that I actually wrote, lol, so please let know if you think it works. Some major angst is coming up soon, so I wanted to write a something a little flufflier first.


"Close on Mark, showing us that blue is his color."

Mark's head whipped up from his workbench, cheeks red as he found Roger standing in the doorway, Mark's camera in hand. Behind him was Mimi and they were both grinning wickedly.

"How did you get in here?" he asked, grateful for the fact that class was over and today, for once, he was the only student that had remained behind.

"We just walked in like everyone else," Mimi answered and stepped up behind him, fingering the hem of his scrub shirt. "Blue really is your color. Brings out your eyes. You should wear it more often."

"Thank you for the advice. Now can you shut that off, please?"

"No way," Roger answered. "You film us all the time and we never get to film you. Besides you're the one that left your camera at home."

"I left it home because I was out of film." He was and hadn't had the time to go and get more. Actually he hadn't had the time to do much of anything lately; finals were around the corner, hence the fact that he was still in the gross anatomy lab half an hour after class. That final was only two days away.

"Not anymore. We went and bought more," Mimi told him and peered over his shoulder. "Oh, ew. I don't why I just looked at that." She took a couple of steps back.

"I think it's cool. What is organ is that?"

"Okay, now the camera really goes off. Seriously." He held up a gloved hand. There was a reason he worked behind the scenes. He never felt comfortable in front of the lens.

This time Roger listened. "It's off," he said. "You want do dinner at the Life? It's on Joanne. Apparently she made partner this afternoon."

"She did?" Mark knew she'd been trying to achieve that for the past several months, but he hadn't had a free moment to speak with her lately to ask how it was going and Joanne seemed just as preoccupied. "That's great!"

"Of course it is. It means we get to see drunk Joanne," Mimi said. "Drunk Joanne is so much fun. So come on, let's go."

"I need to clean up and change."

"Okay, clean up. Mimi and I will meet you downstairs," Roger said.

"But don't change," Mimi told him, "I was serious when I said blue was your color."


In the end, it turned out that Mark couldn't change. A slight accident while cleaning up had left his jeans soaking, so, feeling somewhat self-conscious, in scrubs he stayed, making sure he closed his coat.

"Mark!" Joanne was up and out of her chair when they entered the Life, and judging from her eyes and the wine glasses on the table, it was apparent she and Maureen had been celebrating for a little while. "You finally made it."

"Yeah, Mimi and Roger found me," he said. "Congratulations."

"We dragged him, really," Mimi interjected playfully, shrugging off her coat and taking a seat. "Please tell me Andre's bringing out the good stuff, 'cause if he's not I can fix that."

"Joanne already ordered the most expensive champagne on the menu," Maureen answered. "She's showing off. Right, pookie?" Maureen took that opportunity to pat Joanne on the ass.

Joanne only grinned. It was New Year's all over again. "Hell, why not? I can afford it now. Sit down, Mark. Take off your coat and have some champagne."

He sat down, but left his coat on, accepting a glass from Collins.

"A toast," Collins said. "To Joanne Jefferson. The richest one of us. Which, of course, doesn't take much, but it's still an accomplishment worth celebrating."

"And she didn't sell out," added Roger.

"Damn right," Joanne answered. "Though I did kiss some ass on the way there."

"We'll forgive you for that, I think," Collins said. "To Joanne, her promotion, and her new finances that are paying for this meal."

Glasses clinked all around and orders were taken before they all settled back into conversation.

"You know, in another three years, it could be Mark paying for one of these meals," Mimi said, after downing half her glass of champagne.

"Oh yeah," Maureen chimed in, getting up and putting her hands on the back of Mark's chair. "Marky'll be rich."

"Just don't forget the little people when you get to the top," Collins said.

"Oh yeah, when I'm making the big bucks working in a free clinic," he answered with smile. "I think I'll make more money with my films than I will with my medical career."

Collins gave a shrug. "Time will tell, I guess. We all know the college professor's life is not glamorous."

"Especially not when you keep getting yourself fired," Roger pointed out.

"True," Collins answered, "but I do go out with a bang, don't I?"

"Oh yeah." Roger raised his glass again, clinking it with Collins.

"Mark, take your coat off," Maureen persuaded, hooking her arms around his neck from behind. She, like Joanne, was definitely relaxed. Maureen, surprisingly, was one of the biggest lightweights ever and her open personality only seemed to enhance the effects of any alcohol. "It's a million degrees in here."

"I'm fine," he said.

"No, you're not." She started unbuttoning his coat and he couldn't help blushing.

"Maureen," he hissed, moving her hand away. He felt the blush crept up into his cheeks. Part of him - granted it was a very tiny part - still harbored feelings for her and her being this close didn't help.

"Hey." Joanne had apparently noticed the fact that her girlfriend was a little too close to her ex-boyfriend. "Maureen..."

Maureen waved a hand. "Relax, pookie, I'm just getting him to take his coat off. I'm all yours, baby." Her hands had reached the last button and pulled his coat off. "Oooo, you're all decked out, Mark."

"I came from the lab," he explained.

"Blue is your color," Maureen commented.

"That's exactly what I said," Mimi said. "Very sexy."

"Hey." Roger feigned a hurt expression.

"Don't worry, honey, you're sexy, too," Mimi told him. "But dressed like that, Mark could get a himself a gal or two."

"Yeah, gold diggers," Joanne said. "You be careful, Mark."

"I'm sure when they see my bank account, they'd all run away, so there's no worry there." Frankly, the idea of finding someone made him uncomfortable. It was hard enough being around couples, it was even worse when those couple decided he needed someone to be happy. After Maureen, he'd learned giving his all to someone only got him hurt.

Besides, he was happy. Or at least, he told himself that he was. He was currently stressed beyond belief, both terrified and excited for his finals and the three years to come. But on the film side of things, he was absolutely frustrated by the footage he had and the focus he lacked. He'd barely had time to edit, which was fine, after finals there would be time and that wasn't what bothered him. What upset him was the fact that they was no screaming link in the scenes he watched, no connection. Before he'd had Angel; now there was no muse in sight.

The food came and conversation continued, but when Collins excused himself to go outside for a smoke, Mark told advantage of that moment to pick Collins' brain.

"Am I crazy?" he asked, leaning against the building as Collins blew a puff of smoke into the air.

Collins turned to him. "Do you think you're crazy?"

"I think I'm exhausted and wondering how the hell I'm going to make it through my finals."

"You'll make it," Collin answered. "Though I will say, I was surprised to see Roger with your camera tonight. That thing is a part of you."

"I know," he admitted. "Roger once told me I'd marry it if I could."

Collins smiled. "Sounds like something Roger would say."

"'Course he did say it when he was pissed at me."

"He wasn't pissed. He was just confused. To Roger, you are bohemia and the real world all in one. If you change, well, then he has too as well."

He frowned. "I don't know if I understand."

Collins took another drag of his cigarette. "He has to grow up. We all think we can continue like this forever, but we can't. And if you move on, well, you hold this group together, even though half the time you may not feel like it. Angel pointed that out to me; she saw it the moment she met you."

"Angel was wrong. She did a hell of lot more than I did," he muttered. He'd failed in many things, never moved forward. Before he'd gone back to school, he hadn't changed. Even with the very limited release of his film, nothing had really changed. He was still broke and the only one that didn't have a lasting romantic relationship and ultimately would be the last person standing, watching the group dwindle one by one.

"Angel was amazing, and as much as it still hurts me a little every day, we're surviving without her. I'm not sure it would be the same if you left."

He considered that though carefully. "Maybe," he admitted, "but you still didn't answer my original question. Do you think what I'm doing is crazy?"

"No," Collins said. "But I do think it's crazy that you think you can save us all."

"They are new medications coming out—"

"And they may or may not help any of us, even if you do manage to make sure we take 'em. Mark, I know exactly what you're doing, and hell, I even appreciate it. I can even see that you actually like it. But don't lose who you are in the process. Remember that camera."

"I haven't forgotten about my camera. I have footage. I'm just not sure what to do with it." Mark sighed. "Before Angel was my focus. Now I'm not sure what my focus is."

"You have a focus."

"Do I?" he asked. "Or are you seeing something that I don't?"

"Damn it, Mark, you are the most observant person in the world when it comes to others, but when it comes to yourself, you need serious help." He finished his cigarette, throwing the butt onto the ground. "Roger showed up on campus today to drag your ass here, didn't he?"

"He and Mimi did. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Did he bring your camera?" Collins asked.

Again, Mark found himself frowning. He hadn't a clue what Collins was trying to get him to see. "Yeah. He decided filming me in the mist of my gross anatomy lab was a good idea."

Collins raised an eyebrow. "There you go. I'm heading back inside, see if Joanne's drunk enough to dance again. You coming?"

Mark shook his head, Collins' words echoing in his brain. "In a minute."

It was as he watched Collins head back into the Life that the point Collins was trying to make finally hit him.

Himself. Collins was talking about using himself. Was he supposed to be the focus of his own film? Was what he was trying to achieve important enough to be a focus? At the moment, his brain was to tired to wrap itself around the concept. Did he need to play a more active role in his storytelling?

Could he do that if he wasn't sure what the story was?

From here on in, I shoot without a script...

He shook his head and went back into the Life, more confused than ever. He walked straight into Roger, who had his camera on and pointed directly at him.

"Don't be lame," Roger said, "besides if you get back up on one of these tables, I want it documented. I already got Joanne while you were outside." Sure enough, in the distance, Joanne was sitting in the middle of their table, champagne in one hand and a smiling Maureen in the other.

Roger was holding the camera all wrong, and Mark was sure the angle was terrible, but the few shots of himself that he'd placed into Today 4 U were taken by Roger's hand.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd give Collins' advice a little thought.