OMG, I have hit 96 reviews! Four more and I have hit my dream of 100! I'm so excited! Here's the next story from Roger. It's a continuation of the other two chapters. Apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors. As always, thank you for reading and please review!

Chapter 13

"Where is she? Where is she?" Maureen squealed impatiently as she bounced around the elevator. "I can't wait to see her … she's going to be so adorable!"

"Honey, we're not even on the right floor," Joanne pointed out.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so excited!" she continued. "I mean … I'm practically an aunt! And I'm going to be the best role model every for my niece. I'll teacher her all the important things in life … hey, think Roger and Mark will let me give her the sex talk?"

"If they're smart, no," Joanne grinned. "Besides, I don't think they'll appreciate you teaching their daughter how to get drunk and dress in rubber."

Collins snorted. "You mean, she isn't going to teach the kid how to moo?"

Maureen stopped jumping around and fixed Collins with a glare. "And just what will you teach her, Mr. Professor at NYU?" she demanded.

"That Stoli is the only brand of liquor worth buying," he said. "That Cap'n Crunch is the best cereal ever. And about Angel." He paused. "You know, Angel would've loved this little baby."

Before the trio could start crying and reminiscing of Angel, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. They rushed into the hallway and headed towards the nurse's station.

"Where's Roger Cohen-Davis?" Joanne asked breathlessly when they reached the desk.

The nurse glanced at the company. Joanne was wearing her usual suspenders and button down striped shirt, in addition to a pair of heels. Collins was in a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and tennis shoes. Maureen, however, was wearing tight leather pants, white boots that reached her knees, and a tiny white tube top. There were purple cow earrings dangling from her ears.

"He's in room … room 225," the nurse said slowly. "Just down the hall and take a right. However, I don't think he'll be awake … he's had a rough morning." Her eyes narrowed even more. "You aren't, by any chance, the paparazzi or anything, are you?"

"Paparazzi? Roger's that famous?" Maureen trilled. "If anything, I'd be the one with the cameras following me. I'm Maureen Johnson … well, Johnson-Jefferson now, but I'm famous for …"

"Thank you," Joanne cut her off. "We just want to check on his partner." Grabbing Maureen firmly by the arm, she steered her down the corridor.

Once they were out of the nurse's vision, the three bolted towards Roger's room, flying past dinner trays and other sick residents. They whizzed past the nursery and dashed up the next hallway. It had always been a tradition for them to race down the halls; they used to have relays throughout the entire building until Benny caught them.

Maureen reached Roger's room and first and skidded inside. "Hi you …" she began loudly, before falling silent. Behind her, Collins and Joanne peered over her shoulders, searching the reason of her abrupt halt.

Roger lay in bed, his skin as white as the sheets, eyes closed. An IV was in his wrist and steadily dripping fluid into him. Next to Roger, Mark sat dozing in an armchair, one hand in the isolette that held his daughter. At the sound of Maureen's entrance, the baby started squalling fearfully. Immediately, Mark jerked awake and lifted the baby into his arms. Only then did he spot his friends.

"Hey guys," he said quietly, standing up and walking over to greet them.

"Is that …? Is she …?" Maureen asked excitedly, gesturing to the bundle in Mark's arms.

"This is my daughter you guys," Mark announced proudly. "Jennifer Lynn Cohen-Davis." He dropped a kiss on the now peaceful baby's forehead. "She's about seven pounds, six ounces, 20 inches long. She'll be a tall one, just like Rog."

"She's so pretty," Joanne cooed. "She looks just like you Mark. Her entire face is yours in miniature."

"Do you guys want to hold her?" he offered.

"Really?" Maureen squealed. "Oh please Marky, let me hold her first!"

"Let her godfather hold her," Mark grinned at Collins as he handed the baby to him.

"Me?" Collins asked.

"You," Mark confirmed. "Collins, you saved our asses so many times … you deserve a special gift. We wanted someone to be able to teach her all the finer points in life. Like how to rewire an ATM machine."

"Once she's 17," Collins joked. "You guys … thanks."

A soft groan came from the bed, causing everyone's attention to shift to the tired musician.

"Joanne, Maureen, Thomas, you made it," he smiled wearily.

"Hey Rog," Joanne replied, kissing his forehead. "How are you?"

"Tired. Sore. Other than that, I'm just fantastic."

"I just told them who her godfather is," Mark informed him. "I know you wanted to see it, but you've had a rough day."

Roger laughed. "Whatever. Anyway, Thomas, we thought you'd be the best godfather ever for her."

The anarchist beamed proudly and turned his focus back on the little squirming baby in his arms.

"And her godmother?" Maureen hinted.

"Joanne," Roger replied. "Someone with a little sanity left in her."

Maureen pouted unhappily. Next to her, her partner put her hand on the diva's shoulder.

"Don't worry honey," the lawyer assured her. "I'm sure in no time you'll be her favorite aunt."

"Teach her how to hold a protest," Collins suggested, giving the baby to Joanne.

"Excuse me," a nurse interrupted. "I'm afraid visiting hours are over, and I unfortunately need to take the little one back to the nursery."

"But I didn't get to hold her," Maureen whined.

"We'll be back tomorrow," Collins told her.

Joanne replaced the baby in the isolette and the nurse wheeled it down the hall. Everyone said their good-byes and left, leaving Roger and Mark alone in their room.

"I miss her already," Mark confessed. "Good thing I can stay here though. I can wander out at night and look at her."

"And leave me?" Roger mumbled, a vague smile playing on his lips.

The filmmaker reached out to stroke the other man's wavy hair. "Hey Rog?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"I love you too Marky … hey, Mark?"

"Yeah?"

Roger was silent for a minute. Then, he said, "You got tested … right?"

"I'm fine Rog."

All lethargy gone, Roger sat up abruptly, causing him to wince as he put pressure on his stitches. His eyes were blazing. "Answer the fucking question Mark."

"What the fuck Roger? Of course I did … don't be such a moron!"

The rock star relaxed visibly. "Just checking."

"You didn't need to jump down my throat," Mark snapped irritably.

The other coughed weakly, then sighed. "I'm only looking out for you … for Jen," he responded. "If you hadn't gotten tested … Jesus Mark, I don't want her to be orphaned!"

"She won't be! Roger, what the fuck is wrong with you? She has you and me. She'll always have one of us there for her."

"She has me for a limited amount of time. I'll be gone before I see her get married … have her own kids … you get to see that Mark. I don't want you to have to miss it as well."

"Rog, can we not talk about this at the moment?" Mark sighed, running a hand through his own honey-colored locks. "Let's not talk about this now."

"But I want to," Roger said childishly.

"I don't want to talk about you dying!" Mark replied. "It's the happiest day of our lives right now. We have a daughter. Please, let's not discuss the heavy shit now."

"Fine." He coughed again.

"You okay?" Mark asked, concern replacing the anger in his voice.

"Fucking fantastic. Just go away Mark."

"Fuck you."

"Don't you dare."

Mark closed his eyes briefly before gently shoving Roger over to the other side of the bed.

"What the hell?" he squawked.

Without responding, Mark curled up next to Roger in the little space he had just created and wrapped an arm around the other's torso, his head on Roger's shoulder.

"What's going on?" the filmmaker whispered. "Why are you like this?"

A deep sigh escaped Roger. "I don't want anything to happen to our daughter," he replied, a tear coursing down his cheek. "But I'm not going to be there to protect her later."

"You don't know that."

"Mark, I've been HIV positive for how long? Sooner or later, I'll join Angel." He coughed. "Just … don't forget me. Don't let Jen forget me. Use each other to remember me. Can you do that?"

Mark nodded. "I'll never forget."

Please review! Any comments are appreciated. Thank you to the eight people who reviewed my last chapter. I am indebted to you all!