**
Mark flipped to the H section of Angel's address book and quickly dialed Kristin Holden's number. The other end of the line rang three or four times before someone picked up.
"Hello?" a female voice asked. The voice didn't have Mimi's distinctive Puerto Rican accent, so he assumed it was Kristin.
"Hi," Mark said quietly. It was ten o'clock, but Angel and Collins still hadn't emerged from the bedroom. "Uh, is Roger there?"
"Yeah, just a second."
"Thanks."
Mark leaned back against the kitchen counter, stretching the red phone line toward him, and waited. He gazed out of the window idly, watching people walk down the sidewalk. The day had turned out to be beautiful. The snow had stopped and the sun was out.
"Mark? Is that you?"
Mark smiled at the concern evident in Roger's voice when he came on the line.
"Yeah, it's me."
"Where the hell are you? Why weren't you at Maureen's?"
Mark frowned. "I'm at Angel's now. It's kind of a long story."
"With Maureen it's always a long story," Roger said, a slight edge to his voice. Those two had always had their differences. Roger didn't know, but he had been one of the main reasons that Mark and Maureen had broken up. Or, at least, he had been one of the main excuses.
"Do you want to meet me somewhere?" Roger continued. "Get some coffee or something?"
"Yeah," Mark said with a smile. "Sounds good to me. Where are you?"
"I'm right near the Life," he said, a suggestion in his tone. "Where are you?"
"Close enough. I'll see you in a minute."
"Bye Mark."
*
Mark was already seated when Roger walked in. He glanced around the café for a moment before spotting Mark at a table in a corner and sliding into the seat across from him.
"Well, I guess I don't need to ask how you've been the last few days," Mark said.
Roger looked... alive... in a way that he hadn't in a long time. He seemed lighter, younger. His eyes leveled on Mark with a smile, and there was a fire in them that had been too long absent.
"What do you mean?" Roger asked with a barely concealed grin.
"You know what I mean," Mark replied, sipping at his coffee. "So?"
"So what?"
"So?"
"So it's been amazing. The most amazing three days of my life, as stupid as that sounds," Roger said, leaning forward in his chair. "Christ, I don't know how to describe it Mark. She's incredible."
"Yeah, I thought so," Mark said softly, smiling. He knew if he tried to say anything else, anything more meaningful, he would stutter and fumble and it would all come out wrong.
"So where have you been?" Roger asked, concern creeping back into his voice as he shifted the focus to his friend. "What happened with Maureen?"
"It was insane. Roger, you don't know, this has been the craziest week." Mark paused. "Get your coffee."
Roger nodded and walked to the counter. Mark watched after him, a kind of stillness settling over him. Watching Roger chat and laugh with Greg, the waiter, made him suddenly wish for his camera. Last night filming Angel and Collins had made him realize why every shot he had taken in the last few months had been so flat and colorless. He knew his craft, knew what angles to use and how to cut them together, but the mechanics of it weren't the problem. His scripts lacked something vital, something real, because they didn't come from what Mark knew best.
This morning, though, he had watched the hours of spontaneous footage he had shot on Christmas Eve and it all shined. It was real. He had been able to capture these people, and they had made it real. He knew he could never lose them because of it; they would always exist there on those reels as vibrant and funny and angry as they had been in life. His work had always been the focus of his own life, but the focus of the work was now changing. He wanted to have this picture of Roger, happy and safe and in love. He didn't want to lose anything anymore.
He should have picked up his camera before he left. With Roger here, the Life Café had become meaningful scenery again. Mark was relieved to find that he had no desire to throw a chair through the window. None of the hurt or anger would matter anymore once he had told it all to Roger because Roger would understand.
"Okay," Roger said, returning to his seat and cupping his hands around the steaming mug. "So what happened?"
"Well," Mark sighed. "I went to Maureen's, and she was crying when she answered the door."
"Crying?" Roger's disbelief echoed his own.
"Yeah," Mark said, frowning. "I don't know, apparently Joanne caught her kissing Melissa and broke up with her. She was such a mess; I can't even remember the last time I saw her cry like that. I guess it doesn't matter, we went to sleep pretty soon after that. The next morning, well... it was Christmas, so I-- "
"Christ Mark," Roger interrupted with a groan. "You didn't give her the necklace, did you?"
Mark smiled sheepishly and looked away. "Well, yeah, I did. I know! I know it was stupid, but it was just sitting there in my pocket and I..."
"Just couldn't help it," Roger finished with a sad shake of his head, though his eyes were laughing. "So what did she say? Did she like it?"
"Forget the necklace," Mark replied. "She kissed me."
"What?"
"She kissed me. God! it was bizarre. I mean, you don't know how many times I've wished that I could kiss her again, but when it was actually happening..." He struggled, words escaping him. "I don't know. She's so wrong for me in every possible way, but..."
"You can't help still loving her."
Mark looked up at Roger and saw the certainty in his eyes. Roger still managed to surprise him with his perceptiveness and understanding. He exhaled slowly and nodded.
"Bitch," Roger said softly, acidly, suddenly showing his anger. "Manipulative, self-serving little bitch."
"Roger," Mark said. "Please..."
"It's true Mark! I can't believe she did that to you. You, of all people!"
"I know, but don't call her that."
They were quiet for a moment, Roger silently fuming over Maureen's ability to continue to hurt Mark without compunction and Mark sipping quietly at his coffee.
"Mark..." Roger began, trying to place the words as best as he could. "You know.. I mean, you don't think-- "
"That she still loves me?" he finished. "No. Believe it or not I'm not quite that naive. I realize that she just needed someone to make her feel like she was wanted, and I was the only person around. Actually, things were kind of back to normal there for a while."
Roger pursed his lips, like he often did when he was thinking. "No, I think she really loved you. It got fucked up somewhere - and I'm not entirely sure that that wasn't partly my fault - but I think beneath all of her selfishness she did love you."
Mark shook his head, suddenly sad again, looking at the table top.
"I don't know," he said, the doubt in his voice tangible.
"She did," Roger asserted, seeming to become more confident in the face of his friend's uncertainty. "And if she didn't, that just proves what a stupid, heartless bitch she really is."
"Roger!"
"Sorry, sorry..." he mumbled.
They were silent again, but after a moment Mark chuckled.
"Only I have the right to call her a bitch, okay?" he said. "Me and Joanne, and trust me, I've done it enough in my head the past couple of days for both of us."
Roger smiled and conceded the point. At least Mark could still laugh about it; Mark could find a way to smile at almost anything.
"What happened then?" he asked.
"I pushed her away and walked out."
"Good. You're worth more than that Mark."
Mark's gaze drifted back down to the table. He traced his finger over the gold pattern on the Formica table top and tried to decide what he should say.
"It's true," Roger assured him. "I hope you know it."
But he could tell just by looking at his friend that he didn't. The uncertainty and
hurt in Mark's frame was almost palpable, even with his telling eyes averted. Roger paused a long moment before laying his hand over the filmmakers. Mark looked up at him in surprise.
"I missed you," Roger said seriously.
Mark laughed, partly to cover the depth of his response to Roger's words and partly because the melodrama of the situation was not lost on him. "It's only been three days Roger."
"That's not what I meant." Roger smiled, but the humor drained away as he said the words he had been wanting to say all week. "I meant that I've missed you this whole time. This entire year... Christ, I was so wrapped up in myself that I barely even saw you, even though you were there with me the entire time. I'm... really sorry."
"God, Roger, don't be--" Mark began to reply.
"No Mark, I was a shitty friend to you and I apologize," he continued. "Hell, you cared about me more than anyone else ever has my entire life, and I know..." Roger sighed, pushing his fingers through his hair, frustrated because the words wouldn't come out the way he wanted them to. "I know I've never really told you this, but... you are so important to me Mark. I know I wouldn't have made it through this year without you."
Roger waited for his friend's response, but Mark was silent, spinning his coffee mug in tight circles on the surface of the table absently. He seemed to be thinking, and Roger saw him bite his lower lip, a nervous habit of his.
"Come on," Mark finally said, his tone and expression inscrutable. "Let's get out of here."
Unsure of what was going through Mark's head, Roger stood with him. As they left the café and began to walk down the sidewalk, still with no response from Mark, Roger began to grow worried. Why did he have to say those things? Mark had already known them anyway. Had he just suceeded in upseting him somehow?
"Mark.." he began hesitantly. "I--"
"Shut up Roger," Mark laughed suddenly and pulled his friend into a hug. Roger could have no idea of the effect of his clumsy, sincere confession. Mark felt a surge of joy and relief course through him. Roger had made it. He was clean and out of the loft and in love, and he still wanted Mark with him. Roger pulled him surprisingly close, a crooked smile on his lips. If their relationship hadn't already been cemented as one of the most important of their lives, it was fully at that moment.
They pulled away from each other and continued to walk down the street, neither acknowledging what had just happened because they knew there was no need.
"So wait," Roger finally said as a question that had been in the back of his mind earlier returned. "How did you find Collins and Angel after you left Maureen's?"
"Well, actually," Mark said, "they found me."
"What does that mean?"
"I didn't have anywhere to go." Mark looked up at Roger, finding his friend's eyes confused. "I didn't know where you were, or where Collins was. I ended up, um, spending the night on the street down by the park."
"Shit, are you joking?" Rogers eyes were wide, disbelieving.
"No," Mark laughed. "It was a good learning experience, really. From an artistic standpoint especially, it gave me--"
"Christ, Mark," Roger said stopping, obviously distressed. "I don't believe it. While I was warm and safe, celebrating Christmas with Mimi, you were out here freezing to death. Alone. Damnit, I should never have let you go to Maureen's; I should have asked you to come with us. I didn't even ask..."
"Roger," Mark said, laying his hands on his shoulders to get his attention. "It's okay, really. I'm fine, and you had no way of knowing what would happen. Collins and Angel found me the next morning, and I've been staying at Angel's since. Everything's okay."
"How can you still want me as a friend?" Roger asked quietly.
Mark sighed, his sarcastic comment stuck in his throat when he realized the graveness in the musician's face.
"The truth is... well, you're the best friend I've ever had," he said. "And I can't imagine what life would be like if I didn't have to put up with your shit."
"I'm serious Mark."
"So am I," he replied. "I love you Roger."
Roger shook his head, looking down at his shoes. He looked up to find his earnest friend's eyes on him still. "You are such a better person than I am. I love you too Mark."
They only looked at each other for a long minute and then at the same moment turned and began walking down the street, again finding words unnecessary.
**
Yes, very hard for me not to turn this into slash; I wanted to so badly! :) "It's a fill-in Jolie, a fill-in..." There's one chapter after this, which I hope I'll be able to post on one of my nights off. Bye!