Summary: Maureen disclosed her pregnancy to Joanne under Mark's urging; Joanne stormed out to stay with Collins in anger.

January 22, 6:09 pm EST

Joanne's Apartment

"you can't take the hicksville outta the girl"

Joanne opened the door to the apartment as quietly as she could. The windows were dark from the outside but that didn't necessarily mean anything. For all she knew, she could walk in to Maureen passed out on the kitchen floor or something equally as disturbing.

Disturbing because Maureen was pregnant with a three-month-old baby.

Collins had managed to talk her around some, convincing her to go to the apartment and at least pick up a nightgown so she would stop wearing old MIT shirts of his.

"You've mopped around for long enough- either go talk to her or kick her outta your apartment," Collins had suggested and Joanne looked around to him, horrified.

"Kick her out? Where the hell would she go? Stay with Mark and Roger with Mimi and Kat? It's a big loft Collins, but there's no way five people could coincide there peacefully."

Collins laughed at her, "Oh, she'll be fine. I lived in that place with Mark, Roger her and Benny and we managed not to murder one another in our sleep."

"But this time it's different. She's going to have a baby Collins, and that place can get so cold sometimes…" Joanne trailed off, and Collins asked what they were both wondering,

"Do you really believe that? That she's gonna go through with it?"

Joanne thought about all she knew about Maureen and knew that Maureen would keep the baby. She wouldn't be able to kill a child, despite her stance on a woman's right to choose. If Maureen was the person she thought she was, she wouldn't be able to go through with an abortion.

"Yes," she answered in a whisper. Collins came down and sat across from her. "Collins, I… I don't know what to do."

"'Course you do," Collins said, smiling when she looked up at him in confusion. "You might not know it yet, but you've already made a decision. You know what to do," he said confidently.

Joanne couldn't remember making any kind of decision, but she had a feeling that Collins was right. Collins was usually right about these kinds of things. He got up and made for his bedroom, pausing in the doorway.

"For the record, I'd never let Maureen live on the streets; but you already know that, don't you."

Joanne nodded. He was right. She had already made her choice. She'd made it even before she protested kicking Maureen out of her apartment.

She'd made it because she loved Maureen- loved the girl even maybe too much. And part of what she loved about Maureen was that she knew that she would keep the baby, no matter what.

The reasoning was how she came to the conclusion, prior to entering the apartment, that if Maureen was going to keep the baby, she was going to keep Maureen. If Maureen would still have her.

And if Maureen wasn't going to keep the baby… then she didn't really know her girlfriend.

It was dark inside the apartment and the only smell coming from it was of old pizza. Joanne took it as a good sign.

"Maureen?" Joanne called out, clicking on the light. The bright fluorescents made her squint and flooded the numerous boxes stacked on the kitchen counter. Most of them were from the pizza place down the street, but there was a container of takeout Chinese balancing precariously over the sink.

There was no respond to Joanne's call and for a moment she was terrified that Maureen thought they'd broken up and had left. Left to go fuck someone else.

But then there was a sound near the entrance to the hall. Maureen was standing there, wearing an old Harvard tee and sweats, hair disheveled, eyes rimmed red with a nose like Rudolph. She was biting her upper lip, the lower one looking painfully red, fiddling nervously with a strand of hair while her other hand compulsively switched from the front of her body to the back. There was a scared, hurt, trepidatious look in her eye, like Joanne was about to rip out the beating heart of a live rabbit and make her eat it… or something.

They both stared at one another, both afraid to make the first move; an uncomfortable silence had descended on them, but silence meant that nothing could be said- which meant there was nothing to take back which meant that they couldn't regret anything that happened.

Joanne contemplated not being angry anymore, forgiving Maureen instantly and proceeding (quickly and physically) to make mends. But she was too scared of it happening again.

What Maureen had done wrong precisely, she couldn't pinpoint. What made her so ticked off and frustrated and annoyed and angry she didn't quite understand. But it was clear that Maureen felt remorse, felt immense guilt, and that was enough for Joanne to maintain her grudge. Maybe it was just an accumulation of events.

After a moment Joanne couldn't stand it any longer. "Are you going to keep it?" she asked; it was one of the reasons she came and it was pointless to beat around the bush.

Maureen didn't answer, just continued to look at her with those pleading, repenting eyes. Maureen knew she'd done wrong and Joanne had to consciously and forcefully stop herself from saying 'Honeybear'.

"Maureen," she said instead, coldly, "Are you going to keep it?"

"I don't believe in abortion," Maureen whispered- her voice sounded raw and despondent. It implied deep pain and it hurt Joanne to hear.

"You also don't believe in woman being forced to fill conventional roles due to prejudice," Joanne reminded, working hard to keep her voice natural. Knowing Maureen's decision was essential before they went any further. It would affect the entire direction of the conversation.

"Are you going to keep it?" Joanne asked again when Maureen remained voiceless.

Maureen whispered something and Joanne's breath caught in her throat. This was the moment of truth. "What did you say?" she asked softly. What was going to happen to them?

"Him," Maureen whispered, swallowing nervously and biting a hole in her lip. "Not it, him."

"Oh Maureen," Joanne whispered, feeling her legs grow weak.

They were going to be okay.

They were going to fight their way through it.

"Pookie…" Maureen whispered, taking a step forward, and then two back. "Joanne," she said, "I'm going to keep it."

Suddenly a new doubt raised its proverbial hand in Joanne's mind. "How are you going to raise a baby by yourself Maureen?" Worry for her Honeybear was taking priority over sensibility and reason. Again.

Maureen shrugged.

"Maureen, have you even thought about this?"

"I was thinking that maybe…" Maureen trailed off, sucking on her bloody upper lip. "We could… I mean…" she glanced up hopefully, even though Joanne understood what she was trying to say the moment she started speaking.

"Maureen, how are we supposed to raise a child when we can barely get through a day without fighting?" Joanne asked, ever the voice of reason. Sure, they'd talked about adopting and such, but this was for real. "Is that the kind of environment you want to raise your baby in? Is this really what the best thing for him is?"

"Of course," Maureen answered instantly. So she had thought about it. "Sure we fight all the time Pookie- that's who we are. Who would Collins be without his crazy schemes and Stoli? Roger without his guitar? Mark without his camera?"

Joanne decided it wasn't the best time to point out Mark's recent lack of filming. "But what if I'm getting sick of the fighting Maureen?" she asked instead, uncertainly. "What then?"

Maureen looked heartbroken; "Pookie… I…" a tear fell from her eyelash, "I never mean the stuff I say when we're fighting. I love you." She choked on the last line.

"I…" Joanne couldn't bring herself to say it. "But we still say it Maureen. We still say it and that counts for something."

"Then we won't say it." Maureen was getting desperate. Things weren't looking good.

"We've tried that already. I argue all day- I don't want to do it when I come home at night too."

"It's a part of who I am- it's a part of who we are Pookie. You can't change that."

"I know," Joanne admitted. "I'm not trying to change you Maureen," she explained, realizing how what she said must've sounded. "But sometimes it's the last thing I need."

"I can promise to try," Maureen said in a small, thoughtful voice. "If it makes you happy I can try."

A promise to try was better than a promise to quit in Joanne's mind; and a part of her knew that there was truth in what Maureen was saying. She knew who she was outside of the relationship, but she liked who she was in it a whole lot more. For the most part, she was happier with Maureen, simply because she was with Maureen.

Because Maureen was hers, and she didn't care how possessive she got about it.

Which led to one of her lingering annoyances. Maureen was still in the doorway and Joanne moved to sit down on a chair. "You went to Mark with this before you came to me," she started. "Do you still have feelings for him?"

It was a stupid question, one they both knew the answer to, but one that still needed to be asked.

"No!" Maureen almost shouted. It was the first real burst of emotion Joanne had seen from her, the first glimpse of the obnoxious, beautiful, confident Maureen that had temporarily disappeared. "Of course not Pookie, Mark's like…" They both thought about it, both unable to come up with a suitable comparison. "He's just a friend," Maureen settled on.

Joanne wouldn't let it go so easily. "You understand how insensitive you were, going to Mark with this, right?"

By the look on Maureen's face, she didn't fully comprehend.

It was pointless explaining it to her, so Joanne tried a different approach, one that had to do solely with them. "If this, us, is going to work out, next time you have something like this, or a problem, you're going to have to come to me."

Maureen sat down quietly across from Joanne and folded her arms. "I know Pookie. Next time I will. I was just so scared that you'd be mad."

"I am mad Maureen. I'm mad because you didn't tell me."

"So you're not mad I slept with that guy?" Maureen asked hopefully.

Joanne considered the fact that they had been broken up at the time and figured it wasn't unexpected. "Well…"

"I knew it!" Another glimpse of Honeybear.

Joanne started playing defense; "You'd be jealous too if some random guy knocked me up, even if, at the time, we weren't dating. I'm responding the only way I know how to." Joanne looked at Maureen. "I don't ever want to share you with anyone."

"What if…" Maureen bit her already chewed-out lip. "What if I said that I was done?" she ventured cautiously.

Joanne ignored the obvious implications. "We've tried that already too," she repeated, sinking into sulk.

Maureen leaned forwards. "I'll try harder. I know I can't promise anything Pookie- I just can't stop myself sometimes. Flirting. Not fucking," she quickly clarified. "I… I like the attention," she admitted, "You know how home was for me- I thrive on it."

"So I don't give you enough attention?" Joanne asked, trying to understand. On some levels she did understand- you couldn't watch Mark and Maureen together for as long as she had and not understand at least a little something.

"It's not you Pookie, it's me. I know what I'm doing is wrong, but my mind won't listen to my heart. It's like I've been conditioned because of them," her face darkened at the elusion of her parents. It didn't take longer than a second for her to come back, "I swear that I'll never, ever, fuck anyone other than you," she promised.

Joanne shook her head; "I don't want you to just fuck me Maureen."

"Than what do you want?" she asked, looking lost.

"I want you to love me."

There was a soft smile on Maureen's face as she realized she'd been played. "I do love you Pookie," she said sincerely.

"I… love you too," Joanne replied for the first time that night.

And she did.

She really, so very much did.

But after they'd moved their 'discussion' to the bedroom, Joanne found she couldn't sleep in the same bed as Maureen at the moment. She quietly got out of the bed after Maureen had fallen asleep and retrieved the spare blankets and sheets from the linen closet, setting up the couch.

There were many things that they both had to compromise on in order for their relationship to work. There were some things that they told one another, and others that remained secret.

Love her Honeybear she did, and try they agreed to do, but that didn't mean all was completely forgiven.

But soon. Soon, Joanne was confident, that things would be back to normal.

And soon, if everything went well, it would be normal, plus one.

A/N: So this is just a short one, cause… it's MoJo. Sorry MoJo fans. Thanks to all that reviewed!! :D