Qualm Chapter 4: The Little Grabber Monkey, a rent fanfic

A/N: Okay so I just want to thank everyone who's been reviewing and reading the story! I wasn't expecting such warm acceptance! My inbox has been inundated with messages telling me people have put me on alert lists and I'm so flattered… THANK YOU!
Anyways, I hope Roger is going to redeem himself a bit, but I really don't control what these characters do… they just flow… I let my fingers do everything. It's like my brain is communicating directly with my fingers and has eliminated the middle man… which would be my consciousness… so I have no idea what's going to happen… but I think he's going to be a bit better.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was about 5am when Mark woke. His room was pitch black and he sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand and reaching for his glasses with the other. Even after he had put them on, he could barely see a thing. He definitely couldn't see that Mimi was asleep on the floor beside him, and he hadn't even realized that someone else must have pulled the covers over him.

He pushed the covers down and took his shirt off. It was hot and his throat felt dry; he needed to get some water. He got out at the far end of his bed so that he could open the window and padded into the kitchen for his drink. He took his time, looking around the loft as he sipped. The light from the kitchen revealed a strange figure in his room and he decided to investigate, which would be difficult because he had to turn the light off and try and figure it out in the dark.

When he reached his room, after stumbling a little over a pair of shoes, he reached down and prodded the figure. It was soft, and it moved slightly under his fingers.

"Mimi…" he breathed, remembering her promise not to leave him alone. She slept on the floor for me…he thought, feeling slightly guilty for telling her to go away. Gently, he lifted her into his bed and smoothed the covers over her tiny frame. Mimi sighed and clutched his arm and Mark smiled down at her. The sun was now beginning to rise and with the little light that shone into the room, Mark could just see her. Sleep highlighted Mimi's youth. In many ways she was youthful no matter how much she insisted she was old for her age – reckless, a little arrogant at times, and she felt invincible at her best (at her worst, she became very aware of her mortality) – but at that moment Mark was more aware than ever of the young girl that lived inside her; the fifteen-year-old girl with big, bright eyes who ran away from home to be a dancer in the Big City. She held onto Mark's arm as if it were the pillow she brought with her… the one Mark knew was still on her bed downstairs; the one she couldn't bear to part with. Her tough exterior was broken down and all that remained were her soft, child-like features.

He moved to pick up his camera, but Mimi let out a whimper and dug her fingers into his skin; she didn't want him to leave. He wondered for a moment if she was awake but her deep, steady breathing suggested otherwise. He slid underneath the covers with her, and she immediately shifted herself so that her head was resting on his chest and her arm was draped around his torso. Mark was almost too terrified to breathe; what if she woke up and got mad? What if she thought he had been taking advantage of her?

As if the constant stream of questions flowing through Mark's mind had been too loud, Mimi woke. She looked confused for a moment, then looked up at Mark and smiled.

"Hey."

"Hi," he remained perfectly still as he was unsure how to move, "uh… I didn't- I mean, I felt bad because you were on the floor and I was going to get up but you grabbed me and…" he trailed off, and Mimi let out a small laugh.

"Did I?"

"Kind of…"

"Sorry, it's a bad habit I've had ever since I was a baby. My father used to call me his 'little grabber monkey'." She smiled at the memory, and Mark relaxed. "Thanks for putting me in your bed. The floor was pretty hard."

"Thanks for staying with me." She hugged him and kissed his chest.

"You're welcome. Feeling better?" Mark's head was still spinning from the kiss when he answered, "Much. Thanks."

"You should try and talk with Roger today." Mimi sat up and stretched. Mark watched her closely, and noticed her sleeve fall off her shoulder. He put it back in place, but his hand lingered too long and Mimi closed her fingers over his. "You should probably avoid doing things that'll get us murdered." Mark hastily removed his hand, feeling incredibly stupid and blushing. Mimi turned to face him. He went to apologize and explain, but Mimi silenced him by touching her fingers to his lips.

"Don't worry about it. I've known for a while." Mark gave her an embarrassed look.

"You have?"

"What? You don't think I notice it when someone's staring at me?" he began to look increasingly like a tomato and Mimi chuckled, "Will you stop worrying?" she noted that he found the floor suddenly very interesting, and lifted his chin so that he was looking at her.

She hadn't been lying. She had known for a very long time about Mark's feelings for her. Many times she felt his eyes on her, undressing her, always so adoring. Of course she loved the attention – when didn't she? – and knew that if he were aware of her knowledge, the looks would stop, so she never said a word. After a while, it became more than just enjoyment of the attention, however, and Mimi began to long for the next time she would feel his adoration wash over her. The truth was that she was attracted to him… dangerously attracted to him… and she had been for about a year now. But she did love Roger, and so she thought nothing would ever come of their mutual attraction until now. Now, she wasn't so sure if she could ignore it. Mimi brushed his cheek with her finger, Mark drew his breath sharply. She had an air of hesitance about her and she kept glancing downwards at his lips. He remembered having that very same feeling and doing the very same thing when he was thirteen. His brain screamed at him to get up and stop this before it went too far, but something else far stronger was keeping him cemented in his place. Before he could come to a decision, he felt Mimi's lips pressed against his own. He returned the kiss and she relaxed into him, raking her hands through his hair and crawling into his lap. Mark broke the kiss, but Mimi swiftly turned her attention to his jaw and earlobe.

"We can't-," he managed to pant, "We can't do this, Mimi." She placed her hands at either side of his face and studied his face carefully. "We can't." he said, more firmly this time.

"Mark… baby, please…" Mark found the sound of her pleading surprisingly arousing and he moved slightly to hide the fact. Mimi shifted in his lap with a mischievous glint in her eye – she had obviously felt his arousal – and began kissing his neck. She took his hands and placed them on her waist, but he withdrew them.

"Mimi stop… please… please… don't…" an unexpected moan passed through his lips and he began to run his hands through her untamed curls "Oh God… please don't stop…"

A/N: Okay so Roger didn't even feature… sorry, guys… Like I said, I don't control anything here…