A/N: Sam here. Thankfully my computer is finally fixed and I'll be able to write once again! Thank you for all the reviews, Jenna and I love em, so keep them coming!

Mark lay as still as he could, staring up at the fake-stucco ceiling in his room.

He had spent at least four days with Joanne, which surprisingly wasn't too bad, considering she did most of the talking in their whole conversation, asking him direct questions about the murder.

Mark was still nervous, even as well prepped as he was. Joanne advised him to just stay at home, relax and film something to get his mind off of any stress, but nothing seemed to work.

He was tempted to talk to Roger, but Roger was always with Mimi or locking himself in his room, trying once again to write a song. Mark wanted to talk to him, he really did. Roger was his best friend after all, but Mark never knew how Roger would react to anything he said. He also wondered if Roger would understand what he was going through, considering he has never stepped foot inside a court room.

He sighed, closed his eyes, prayed that a nightmare wouldn't occur again, and sank into a steady, deep sleep.

Mark awoke to the sound of yelling outside his room.

"What the hell." Mark muttered. He got dressed and put on his glasses, still feeling sleepy.

"God Roger, you are so insensitive!"

"Insensitive? What's that supposed to mean? You are over dramatic, practically Maureen!"

"See? You always have to insult me."

"What the hell? I thought you liked Maureen!"

Mark stepped out of his room, watching as Roger and Mimi, once again, bickered.

Mark had noticed the pattern a few weeks ago. Roger would say something to upset Mimi, who, would in turn, start yelling at Roger. Roger would reply with something which Mimi didn't usually like, and the whole thing would start over again. The next week Mimi and Roger would be obscenely making out on their couch as if nothing happened.

"Oh hi Mark." Mimi greeted him, running her hands through her hair and quickly glared at Roger. "Roger didn't wake you, did he? I always tell him he yells too loud--"

"I what?"

Mimi held up her hands "Sorry, I forgot, nothing is your fault."

Mark shook his head, rolling his eyes at his two friends and pushed through them to get some coffee.

"Would you just chill out? Everything makes you mad." Roger said, shaking his head and sighing.

"Fine, whatever. I'll talk to you later." Mimi left the loft, head down and dragged her feet a little.

Roger shook his head again and walked towards Mark who was pouring some coffee.

"You two always fight."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"Don't mention it, Colonel Sadness." Mark smirked, sitting on their couch carefully so he wouldn't spill his coffee. Last thing he needed know were third-degree burns.

"So how is the trial prep coming along?" Roger asked, taking a long sip of his coffee.

"Okay."

"Just okay?" Roger furrowed his brow and plopped himself down on a ratty old chair.

"Well yeah I mean…Joanne is great, and--"

"Pretty hot."

Mark stared at Roger and blinked. "You better not let Maureen hear that."

Roger laughed. "What's she gonna do? Hit me with a cowbell or something? Please."

"Anyway," Mark was ready to change the conversation, "you would be nervous too if you had to go into some strange court room and talk to people."

"Dude, I was in a band. I had to sing to people. That's like, a lot worse."

"Uh, how?"

"Well, if you are out of tune, which, I never was, but if your voice sucks or your band sucks or whatever, it's a lot worse. People boo you…throw things at you. Not that I would ever know about that," Roger said quickly, "I just know from other people's experiences…that's all. Everybody loved me." He grinned.

"You're a big help." Mark sighed sarcastically and looked down into his coffee. He watched as the creamer swirled around with the brown liquid. Mark found random joy in watching this.

"You know, Mimi and I have been fighting a lot lately." Roger said after a few minutes of awkward silence.

"Why?" Mark asked, looking up from his coffee.

"I don't know," Roger sighed, "I never say the right thing. And when I do say what I think is the right thing, it's the wrong thing in her mind. Chicks are so confusing."

Mark laughed and a small smile formed on his lips.

"What, my misery makes you happy or something?"

"Sorta. It makes my situation not seem as bad."

This time it was Roger's turn to smile. He picked up a pillow and tossed it at Mark, narrowly missing Mark's coffee.

"Hey!" Mark laughed and tossed it back, not even close to where Roger was sitting.

"You were never good at baseball. Or throwing anything, really."

"Funny."

Roger smirked a little, and then a soft-serious look appeared on his face.

"You know Mark, uh, I was never good at like, listening but you know…if you wanna talk about anything…like the trail, for a random example, just tell me. Okay?"

Mark smiled and nodded his head. "Thanks, Rog."

"But don't get all mushy on me or anything." Roger snapped quickly, getting up and grabbing his guitar. He dumped his coffee out in their sink and headed towards his room, shutting his door with a loud slam.

"Yeah, you too." Mark said to the empty loft, smiling to himself.

A few minutes later, the phone rang and Mark, as usual let the machine pick it up.

SPEEEEEEEEEEEEAK

"Hey, Mark, it's Joanne. Throw down the key."

Mark smiled and picked up the key from their kitchen counter, and walked over to the large dusty window, leaned over and tossed the key to a rather preppy-dressed Joanne.

She caught the key perfectly and shouted quick thanks before briskly walking towards the door.

Everything she does is so lawer-ish Mark thought, walking towards their loft door to greet Joanne.

About two seconds passed and Mark heard a knock on the door.

And she's a quick walker too.

"Okay so I need to talk to you and get some stuff prepared." Joanne said quickly, entering the loft with a large briefcase.

"And hello to you too." Mark laughed, closing the door behind her.

"Oh God Mark, I'm sorry." Joanne gasped, obviously frazzled.

"It's fine, I was just kidding." Mark reassured her.

"No no it's just…..I've been having awful cases lately and I can't seem to win any…" Joanne looked up at a now frightened Mark.

"But we will win this one, I promise." She said, nodding her head and sitting down on the couch, making an oomph noise.

Mark soon joined Joanne on the couch and patiently listened as she went through some court room stuff. Mark could hardly keep up, Joanne was talking too fast.

"So is it all clear and okay?" Joanne finally asked, taking a deep breath and shuffling her papers around.

"I guess."

"You guess?" Joanne raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah yeah, it's fine." Mark smiled a little, trying to look convincing.

"Well if you don't understand anything, I'll be happy to explain it again."

"No no, it's okay." He said, nodding his head this time, trying to look and sound more convincing then the last time.

Joanne bought it and smiled. "Well good. And get plenty of rest; the trial will be here before you know it."

"I will."

"And we will get this guy, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. I better go….Maureen has been complaining that I'm never home. If only she had a job, maybe she'd understand." Joanne said, rolling her eyes. "I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

Mark nodded and opened the door for her.

"The trial will be here before you know it." Mark repeated to himself, feeling a little queasy.

He ran his fingers through his hair and made himself another cup of coffee.

It'll go fine, Mark thought, reassuring himself.

Would it?