Disclaimer: Warning! Romantic pairing! MO/JO! But I think it's fun... Oh well. RENT is not mine, Wicked is not mine... Because Holtzman and Schwarts (and Maguire's) lawyers would be after me. Like they would the Bohos.

"So we have Mimi's chair, the Wizard head, his mike," Joanne permitted herself a smile, before continuing. "The bubble-wand-umbrella thing, tiara, tin man suit-"

"Why are you always listing things?" Maureen said complainingly. She was sitting in their armchair, upside down, so that her hair hung down to the floor and her legs stuck up in the air as she chewed a large wad of bubble gum. Joanne was sitting at the table, cross-referencing lists of things they needed, things they had, and things they had that they could use to make things they needed. "It's not like they'll go away if you don't list them."

"The slippers are sparkled, we've got the straw mask and cuffs, the broom's as un-bent as it's going to get…" Joanne continued, ignoring Maureen. And frankly, Maureen didn't like being ignored.

"That's why I never liked cleaning," Maureen raised her voice the tiniest bit. "I mean, I know I have socks. Does it matter if they're all in the same place?"

"Guard and citizen jackets are done, and Benny's bringing his Wizard coat, Father's hat, Mother's hairnet, Mark's scarf for Boq…" Joanne was muttering to herself now. "No clue why he's so over possessive of it... hair clip, hand mirror, books…" Maureen started kicking her legs in the air, back and forth.

"Pookieeee! I'm bored!" Maureen twisted herself around until she was sitting upright. "How many people do you think are going to show up?" she asked excitedly. Joanne stopped listing, rubbing at her temples.

"Not many," she said. "This is an illegal performance. Too many and we'll be charged with copyright infringement."

"Oh, legal, illegal, laws, schmals!" Maureen jumped up from the chair, spreading her arms theatrically. "This is the theatre! This is art! And art knows no bounds or copyrights!"

"Try telling that to Holzman and Schwartz's lawyers," Joanne said. "And if they find us, they'll win." Maureen gasped audibly.

"Pookie, don't put yourself down like that!" Maureen approached Joanne from behind, draping her arms around her Pookie-bear's shoulders. "You're really good at what you do!" Joanne smirked again.

"It doesn't matter how good I am if the other guys are right." Joanne said. "We blatantly ignored copyright laws to put on a Broadway show literally a few streets over. There's no getting out of it."

"Pookie, you worry too much!" Maureen pretended to chastise, before leaning in close and saying in her baby voice, "Do I need to make Roger sing Dancing Through Life at you?" This time Joanne fully smiled.

"I still can't believe you managed to get the overemotional rocker to play the carefree 'scandalacious' prince." she said.

"Well, he was the only one of them flat-out hot enough to pull it off," Maureen said casually. Joanne whipped around.

"What did you just call him?" Maureen's eyes widened in innocence.

"What?" she said. Joanne stood, throwing off Maureen's arms as she began to pace.

"You just called Roger 'flat-out hot'!" Joanne accused, using her lawyer-powers of imposingness. Maureen held up her hands in surrender.

"Oh, come on!" she said. "There's more than one hot being on this planet, Pookie!"

"Though you don't say there is!" Joanne felt about to cry. "The fact you think he's hot means you've been looking at him… like that!" Maureen took Joanne's hand, making her stay still.

"Joanne," she said, no hint of a joke in her eyes. "I would never dream of cheating with Roger Davis, no matter how hot he may be." Joanne just stood there, wanting to believe Maureen but not sure if she should. "Roger and I have known each other for a while, and if we were in love, we'd be together by now. But we're not. He's with Mimi," Maureen brought Joanne closer to her. "And I'm with you."

They stood there, Joanne shaking involuntarily, for a few seconds.

"Sing it with me," Joanne said at last. "Sing As Long As You're Mine." Maureen reached blindly for a tissue, never looking away from Joanne as she spit out the gum.

"Kiss me too fiercely," she began, gently starting to steer Joanne toward their bedroom. "Hold me too tight…"