Authors' Note: HAHAHAHAHA!!! Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse…it DOES!!!! ::grins psychotically like Collins and Angel:: Shall we?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday

Mark rolled over, blinking open one eye sleepily to peer at the digital clock on the night table next to his bed.

7:30.

"Rmph…" he mumbled, rolling back over, re-shutting his eyes. Waaaaay to early to be getting out of bed.

Then he remembered.

Collins.

Normally, this would not be enough to even slightly motivate the film maker to move from his warm position between the comforters, but considering the condition Collins had been in the day before, Mark couldn't ignore the little voice in the back of his head telling him to at least go see if he was doing any better.

With a grumble and a muffled curse under his breath, Mark rolled out from the sheets, and stood up, straightening out his boxers.

He then leaned back over, planting a small kiss on Rogers' forehead, who had been lying snuggled next to him.

PSYCHE.

I just wanted to get all the M/R slash fans excited.

Anywho, he padded barefoot out of his room, down the small corridor, and out into the living room and dining area.

Collins sat at the table, fully showered, dressed, and groomed. His hair was a bit wild, the long dreadlocks covered with the usual crocheted cap, and falling rather sinisterly down the front of his face, stopping like always right below the shoulders.

Think a braided version of Cousin It.

But that wasn't why Mark was staring in shock.

He was smoking.

SMOKING?

Mark blinked incredulously. Collins had quit smoking so far back, Mark barely remembered when it was. Easily when he had moved into the loft, if not right after.

This was not a good sign.

Mark approached Collins less-than-vigorously, peering at the small glass the man held in his violently shaking fingers.

It was some sort of clearish-pink liquid.

Then Mark saw the vodka bottle sitting on the table beside it.

VODKA? AT 7:30 IN THE MORNING?

Any hopes Mark had that Collins might be feeling better instantly decreased, and he carefully sat down across from the trembling figure on the other side of the table.

"Uh…Collins…?"

The shaking head slowly lifted up, making eye contact with Mark. Marks' eyes widened. Collins' eyes were completely smoldered with a look of…well, someone in a less-than-sane mental state, and there were bags under them big enough to pack Angels' entire wardrobe in: both drag AND normal.

Which is pretty damn big, need I even say.

"You…you okay, buddy?"

Collins stared at Mark, completely expressionless except for an occasional blink now and then. There was a silence in the room thick enough to cut with a knife for a full minute, before the cracked, liquor-coated lips finally moved.

"Watermelons," Collins stated hoarsely, his voice wavering.

And with that, he lifted his quivering hand to gently sip at the vodka. Well, at least, what he was able to get down his throat and not on his shirt. The other hand trembled so that ashes fell in a steady stream from the tip of the rolled up paper tube in his fingers.

What the hell?

"Watermelons," Mark repeated slowly, nodding his head carefully.

Again, another full minute of heavy silence, before Collins nodded.

"Did you know," the mans' voice was dangerously low, "that if man had to live on one food, and one food only, he could live on watermelons?"

Don't freak out, Mark, don't freak out!

Suddenly, Maureens' voice chanted in his mind. "Don't make any sudden movements!"

Mark gulped nervously, shaking his head. "N-n-n-no, C-C-C-Collins, I-I-I did…not know…that…"

"It's true, yanno…" Collins' voice raised steadily, a glitch of yesterdays' smile beginning to form on his lips. "It has everything. It has food, so that we won't go hungry. It has water, so that we won't go thirsty. BUT, most importantly…"

His voice exploded in an insane, and might we say very loud, cackle. Mark hit the ceiling, jumping back.

"It has the SEED!!! THE SEED, MARK!!! YOU NEED THE SEED!!! SO THAT WE CAN GROW MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The mans' big dark hand slammed down on the table, and he threw his head back, tears forming in his eyes. Mark watched in horror, his heart racing in fright.

Jesus frickin Christ!!!! He's GONE!!! WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?!?!

Then, as suddenly as he had started, Collins stopped laughing, and took a drag on his cigarette.

Then calmly returned to sipping his vodka.

Mark gulped, taking a deep breath before reaching out and taking the vodka out of Collins' hands. "Uh, Collins, I think it'd probably be best if you had coffee instead?"

Collins blinked at Mark, eyes wide.

He then lunged up, standing up so fast and suddenly the chair fell over. Mark gasped and rose to his feet himself, backing up slightly.

Oh my God, HE'S GONNA KILL ME!!!!!

"This is the Channel 10 action news at 11. Coming up next…sex-starved gay psychopath murders rising star film-maker after having his vodka stolen. Stay tuned!"

Mark secretly resolved himself for adding in the "rising star" part.

Hey, if you're gonna go out, go out with a bang.

Collins continued blinking, his huge chocolate brown eyes flashing under long lashes. Then…

"I must depart."

And with that, Collins headed slowly towards the doorway, eyes down, focusing carefully on putting one foot in front of the other. Mark took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, then ran after Collins.

Fool.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"I must depart. The fine New York University awaits me. Fear not, Mark. I will be treated well." The monotone voice shook as his hand twisted the knob.

Mark lunged, knocking Collins' hands from the brass structure.

"Oh no!! No no no!! You're not going to work Collins. No way. Not in this condition."

"I MUST DEPART!!!"

"No! No. Collins, I'll call you in. Your TA can teach the class." He spun the lanky, dangling-limbed philosopher the other direction and steered him away from the door. The mans eyes focused in and out, the dazed, tranced expression only interrupted every so often by blinking lids. Upon reaching the couch, Mark pushed the 6 feet and 4-inched bag of insanity onto the soft cushion, where Collins then looked up into his own gray eyes.

"Mark?" The mans' voice shook, and his lip quivered.

Mark gulped.

"Yeah, Collins?"

"Do we have any…any watermelons…Mark?"

Oh, sure. After all, who DIDN'T have a fresh stock of watermelons in his or her fridge?

"I'm sorry, buddy. Nothing."

The mans' eyes filled, and he wrapped his long, thin arms around his knees.

"I like watermelons."

"So do I, Collins," Mark responded. Dear God, he has completely gone lunatic!

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you take me to buy a watermelon today?" Collins resembled perfectly a five-year-old boy asking his mother to take him to the toy store.

Despite the rapidly growing sense of fear, Mark nodded and smiled.

"Sure, Collins. I know a place."

"Thanks, Mark. I always knew I could count on you."

Silence.

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Could…could I have…my…my drink?" The mans' shaking hand outstretched towards the kitchen table, his eyes rapidly watching the vodka glass.

Mark hesitated. If he said yes, he would put Collins into an even deeper stage of insanity than he was in already. But if he said no…?

Then again, it WAS his fault that Collins was even like this. If it weren't for him, Collins would be at home, perfectly sane, spending the whole night in bed pleasuring his Angel as usual.

Thus, Mark smiled, and handed the man his vodka. "Sure pal. Here ya go."

"Thanks, Mr. Mark," Collins took a sip, almost dropping the glass as a result of his shaking countenance.

Mark headed over to the phone, quickly tapped in the number for NYU, and transferred to the absence hotline, where he reported Collins' absence for the day.

"What's the motive, sir?" The thick Jersey accent tinted the womans' 40-something aged voice.

Mark opened his mouth to say "excessive fatigue" just as his eyes landed on the mans' long outstretched form which was now lying down on the couch.

Grabbing at the air.

And talking to himself.

Mark couldn't quite hear what he was saying, but thought he caught the word "watermelons" once or twice before turning back to the receiver.

"Uh…illness," Mark replied, before hanging up the phone.

There were a few moments of silence before…

BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!

Thunder pealed overhead, and a sudden, soaking downpour descended upon the loft. Collins shrieked and scrambled quickly, curling up into a little ball on the far side of the sofa and looking out the window with eyes as frightened as those of a newborn baby.

"MARK!!!!!!" The fully-grown man looked ready to weep like a child.

"It's okay…Collins…" Mark carefully stepped back over to the quivering teacher, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's just a storm."

"But…but…but it's wet!!!"

Well, duh.

"Yes, I know Collins."

"But…but…but…" the man sputtered. "But it's really WET!"

Mark sighed, before gently bending over and helping him to his feet.

"Collins…" Mark said carefully. "Why don't you go into my room and lie down a little. I think you got up just a bit too early today. Try to sleep some more. Close the door so that there won't be any noise to prevent you from sleeping." Trust me, you need all the sleep you can get, he thought, but didn't say.

Collins let Mark push him down towards his room, and suddenly whirled around, eyes flashing with fright.

"You…you mean…there are noises in there? I don't like noises, Mark! I like watermelons!"

Mark smiled in comfort, and pushed the taller man into the room. "No, Collins. I meant _ I _ might be making some noise. I'm gonna be up and moving about, and I don't want to disturb you."

"Oh…" Collins' lip quivered. "Okay…"

Collins slowly lay down on the bed, curling up into a little ball. Mark smiled again and turned to leave the room.

"Mark!?"

Mark whirled around, heart racing. "What?"

Collins blushed a little, and squirmed uncomfortably.

"Will you tuck me in?" His voice squeaked like that of a small boy.

You gotta be kidding me.

"Sure, Collins," Mark replied patiently, leaning over and pulling the comforters up, tucking them snuggly around the teachers' lanky frame. "There ya go. Warm enough?"

"Thanks, Mr. Mark."

"No problem."

Mark exited the room and out into the hallway, gently closing the door behind him.

Eyebrows arched way, WAY up.

~~

* Three Hours Later *

::KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK::

"Who is it?" Mark asked warily, staring in…almost fright at the door. He had a backup plan. If that was Angel there on the other side, he was going to fling himself out the window before he could even have a chance to enter.

Thus, one can imagine his relief when it was JoAnne he heard.

"MARK!! It's JoAnne!!! Open up, quick!!!" She sounded frantic.

"Sure!" Mark threw the chain off, flinging open the door.

And gasped.

Maureen and JoAnne stood in the doorway.

Holding Angel in between them.

At least, he thought it was Angel. He couldn't really tell. The mans' eyes were huge with madness, the same crazy smile as the previous day. He was soaked from head to toe, his wig matted in huge clumps, sticking in every direction. All of his makeup was running in various-colored rivers down his face, and his clothes were thrown on wildly: some articles even on backwards. His body shook as if he was having a seizure, and he clutched viciously a huge bottle of alcohol of some sort in his bony fingers.

And he was laughing.

Lord, was he laughing.

And singing. Slowly. Dazed. Tranced. Swaying from side to side lazily.

"It's raining…!" ::giggle:: "It's pouring…!" ::laugh:: "The old man is snoring…!" ::cackle::

Marks' eyes widened for the 5468765464th time in the past three days as he looked at Maureen and JoAnne in shock.

"Jesus CHRIST!!!! What in the blue fuck is going on?!"

"I don't know!!!!" Maureen cried, pulling Angel after them through the doorway. "He was outside on the front steps, drinking this…stuff in the pouring rain, singing that song—"

"HE BUMPED HIS HEAD!!!!" Angel screeched, cackling psychotically. "AND HE WENT TO BED, AND HE DIDN'T GET UP UNTIL THE MORNI-I-I-I-ING!!!!!!!" His song dissolved into fits of hysterical laughter, throwing his head back merrily.

"—and we brought him up right away! Mark," Maureen looked at the blond filmmaker severely, "you guys—all three of you—are calling this whole thing off RIGHT NOW!!! Do you understand me?! If you don't, I will personally see to it that Collins and Angel are locked in a room together until we—ALL OF US—hear them screaming!!! Got it?!?!?"

"Fuck, Maureen!!! Don't you think I would've already DONE that if I could?!?! It's not my decision!! Angel and Collins are dead set on beating me in this thing, and nothing you say or do is going to change that! These two are not gonna have sex until FRIDAY, and we can't convince them otherwise!!!"

Maureen looked Angel over in agony, then returned her gaze to Mark in horror.

Suddenly, then, JoAnne spoke up.

"Wait a second!! Both of them are nuts, right?"

Maureen and Mark looked at each other, then at JoAnne in shock.

"Uh, ya THINK?!" Marks' voice cracked highly.

"Well, then," JoAnne, logical as always, kept her voice low. "Why don't we just TELL them it's Friday? I mean, look at them! They can't think or reason, they're in no mental state to believe otherwise! That way that they can have sex, go back to normal, and they'll believe that they won. Totally simple."

* Ta Da! *

A beat.

Maureen looked at Mark.

Mark looked at Maureen.

"It could work," they both said at the exact same time.

Maureen sighed, and turned to Angel, taking the man by the shoulders. "Hey, Angel?"

"It's raining…it's pouring…the old man—"

"Angel? Hold on two seconds, okay? We have a…a…a surprise for you." With that, Maureen headed down the hall and gently cracked open the door to Marks' room.

Collins lay on the bed, curled up, gently breathing in and out.

Maureen crept over to the folded up body and ever so gingerly tapped the bony shoulder. She had read somewhere that you should never wake up a crazy person unless prepared to suffer serious consequences.

Tough luck.

Collins stirred a little, rolling over to his other side, mumbling something about melons.

Melons?

Maureen tapped him again, a little bit more forcefully.

Collins eyelids flew open, and his sat up like he had been shot out of a cannon.

Maureen yelped and jumped back as Collins shook himself out of the sleepy daze and turned to face her.

Damn, why is he shaking like that?

"Maureen?"

Maureen relaxed slightly, and nodded. "Yeah, it's me. How you feelin, Collins?"

"I went to the moon this morning."

::Beat::

Maureen considered this for a moment, before smiling warmly and nodding gently. "How was it?"

"Cold. And there weren't any watermelons. I wonder how they live up there? Just on the cheese, I guess…" his voice drifted off as he stared off into space, playing with the little golden chain hung about his neck. His pupils dilated in and out.

WHAT?

Once again, Maureen nodded as if she understood exactly what Collins was talking about, before helping the gangly man to his feet.

"We have a surprise for you, Collins! Wanna see what it is?"

Collins' eyes focused, and he smiled as though he was a little boy whose mother had just told him that Santa had just dropped off the gifts. "Sure! Did you get me watermelons, Maureen?! I bet that's what you did!!!"

"Even better. You'll see," she said, pushing Collins out the door. "It's just as…delicious, you could say."

With that, they entered the living room, where Mark, JoAnne, Angel and now Roger and Mimi were, the latter two mumbling inaudible phrases to each other over soggy cereal.

Angels' head snapped up as Collins entered the room.

Collins' head snapped up as his eyes landed on Angel.

The two stared at each other for a moment, the crazed, dazed expressions immediately melting into raptured stares of uncontrolled hunger, desire and longing.

For the first time in quite a while, Collins' head became clear. One could even say a little sane. His eyes drank in the smooth, blemish-free caramel skin, the wild dark hair cascading like a tangled waterfall down his back, the black eyes smoldered with a thirsty desire begging to be quenched, and the tight, even more so WET clothing that clung so perfectly in lovely curves to the slim form of his lover.

The full red lips pouted, and Angels' mind was immediately cleared of fog and insanity as he took in hungrily the long, flowing dreadlocks spilling over the manly shoulders, the smooth chocolate skin, the huge brown eyes behind the thin glasses wide with lust, and the slender, lean body clothed in baggy jeans and a work shirt with slightly rolled up sleeves and quite a few buttons missing, revealing the neck and top of the warm, sexy chest.

Damn. Damn. DAMN.

I've GOTTA HAVE HIM!!! Each ones' mind screamed in unfulfilled need.

"Hey guys!" JoAnne called slightly louder than what was necessary, to assure being heard. "Guess what? It's Friday, guys!! FRIDAY!!! Week's over!!! The bet is done!!! You guys can make love now!"

Friday.

Friday?!?!

FRIDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was FRIDAY?!?!?!?!?

The crazed fog of insane lust clouded both mens' minds until neither one was able to think at all except for one thing.

It was time to get laid.

In one swift move, Angel and Collins lunged for one another, grasping each other savagely and practically wrestling each other down to the floor. Their mouths slammed together almost violently, crushing against each others' over and over again until their lips were numb.

On the floor.

Marks' eyes widened.

JoAnnes' eyes widened.

Maureens' eyes widened.

Rogers' eyes widened.

Mimis' eyes widened.

"Oh my God!! They're gonna FUCK ON THE FLOOR?!?!?!" Maureens' voice cracked in hysteria.

"In front of US?!?!" JoAnne looked nauseous, as if she was ready to vomit.

Angel tore Collins shirt open, leaning down to wildly kiss and nibble at the smooth chest, licking and teasing the soft skin with his tongue. Collins moaned and moved to free his companion of the soaked clothing that prevented him access to the warm, bare skin that would soon be his, free to touch and explore.

"Ahhhh!" Maureen cried, and hid her face in her hands. "I don't wanna see this!! I don't—"

"Shut up!! SHUT UP, Maureen!!! Don't say a word!! Don't say anything until after they're done! Don't say ANYTHING that would prevent them from—"

"Hey guys? Are you sure you wanna be doing that? It's only Thursday, you know."

::Beat::

Mimi rubbed her eye sleepily, still groggy from working the late shift the night before, before getting up and carrying her cereal bowl into the kitchen.

Mark watched her in outrage.

Maureen watched her in outrage.

JoAnne watched her in outrage.

Angel, now lying under Collins, stopped stripping him of his clothing.

Collins stopped stripping Angel of his clothing and licking the warm caramel neck.

The two remained frozen for a moment, before slowly sitting up in unison, already half naked. Heads turned simultaneously to regard the trio evenly.

Roger munched on his cereal.

This was gonna be good.

"Thursday?" Angels' voice was barely a whisper, more like a small puff of air that happened to travel briefly over his red, swollen, and now numb lips.

Mark closed his eyes and face palmed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

We were sooooo close….

"I am gonna KILL that Mimi…" Maureen growled fiercely under her breath, fists balled.

"It's Thursday?" Angel looked as though he was on the edge of tears.

Mark sighed reluctantly, before nodding, defeated.

"Yeah. It's Thursday."

Angel turned back to Collins, where the quivering man held the drag queen lightly around the waist.

Damn.

Damn.

Dammit.

DAMN!!!

The two regarded each other, eyes filled, in a thick silence for a few seconds before…

Angel burst into tears.

Collins burst into tears.

And they cried.

And cried.

And cried.

Maureen rolled her eyes. "Oh shit, NOT AGAIN!!!"

They hugged each other tightly, sobbing over and over again, rocking back and forth.

"Daaaammmmmmmiiiiiiiitttttttt!" Collins cried into Angels' neck.

"I knnooooowwwwww!!!!!!!!!!" Angels' choked tears fell into Collins' hair.

Mark ran over to Collins and Angel, and helped them up, the two still clinging to one another tightly.

"Guys, listen!!! This is over now, okay? It's finished! Let's just say you won, and it's over, okay? You won! Now for the love of God, FUCK EACH OTHER!!!!!!!"

Angel and Collins whipped their heads to regard Mark dangerously. Mark recoiled slightly, and watched as they returned their gazes to each other. Their expressions were twisted with pain and temptation, before, as fast as they had burst into tears, hardening.

"NO!!!!!" They cried, shoving away from each other with a surprisingly powerful strength. Angel slammed back against the blinds in the window on one side of the room, Collins with a big thud against the wall on the other.

"NEVER!!!" Angel cried. "Never!! You will NEVER win, Mark!!! GOT IT?!?!"

"NEVER!!! We are NOT GIVING IN!" Collins' voice boomed as Angel turned and ran towards the hallway.

"Where are you going?!" JoAnne called after the transvestite.

"As far away from Collins as I can get!"

"Why?"

"Because if I don't I'll FUCK HIM SENSELESS!!!!!!"

And with that, the door to Mimi and Rogers' room slammed shut with a bang.

~~

By dinnertime that night, Angel still had not emerged from the bedroom, despite several attempts to get him to come out. The gang lolled around the apartment, chomping on the appointed dinner for that night: scrambled eggs.

Except for Collins.

He had watermelon.

The group watched in worry, dread, and awe as the man calmly cut and sliced the fresh red fruit with his shaking hands and shoved the monster sized red triangles into his mouth.

"Dear God, Roger…if they're like this now, what the fuck do you think they'll be like tomorrow?" Marks' murmur was low with dread, gazing at the watermelon monster in worry.

"I dunno, man," Roger responded, shaking his head slowly. "I'm afraid to ask."

"Well, at least the bet will be over tomorrow," Mimi chirped, taking a bite of egg. "Then all this craziness will finally stop and things can just go back to normal."

"Yeah," Mark snorted hotly, "and it WOULD'VE been over by TODAY Mimi, if SOMEONE hadn't opened her big fat mouth!"

Mimi shot Mark a death glare and threw down her fork.

"I told you a MILLION TIMES that I was sorry for that!! I had just woken up! I didn't even see them making out until it was too late, not to mention you guys talking about your little 'plan.'"

"Shut up, the two of you," Maureen groaned, gazing towards Collins. "Look at that. Look at him. He's pathetic!"

The group looked to see Collins, still as stone, staring at a small square of watermelon pierced onto his fork.

Just staring.

And staring.

And staring.

Occasionally blinking.

But mostly staring.

Then he started talking.

To himself.

Marks' eyebrows rose.

"What…what is he saying?" He whispered, leaning in to hear him better.

The group shrugged and joined him.

Slowly, the whispered words became audible.

"Ode to a watermelon!! For which we call a watermelon by any other name would taste as sweet! Watermelon, watermelon, where for art thou, watermelon? Defy thy seeds and refuse thy name, and if thy will not, be but sworn my love, and…and…I will no longer be…um…"

The man giggled boyishly, and looked up at the group with a twinkle in his eye.

"I dunno!!!!!! HEY GUYS?!?! What should I no longer be?!?!?" He dissolved into a fit of giggles, before shoving the red, dripping square into his mouth.

The gang moaned simultaneously, before turning back to their dinner.

"Crazy would be nice," JoAnne grumbled, chomping into her toast.

"What's this whole thing with watermelon today, anyway?" Mark chirped up. "I mean, he's been obsessed with it since the moment he got up this morning. What's the deal?"

Mimi pshawed. "Mark, didn't you learn ANYTHING in school? The explanation is simple. When people are denied everyday things that they normally have supplied in abundance, they find something else, some other object, no matter how ordinary or ridiculous it may seem, to replace it until the time that they get the origional item back."

Mark raised his eyebrows.

Roger raised his eyebrows.

Maureen and JoAnne raised their eyebrows.

"And where did you learn this, Miss Psychologist?"

Mimi rolled her eyes. "Around. Anyway, that's what's going on. Collins' item that he normally has abundance of in his everyday life is sex. Therefore, when that was taken away, he found something else to replace it."

"Watermelons," the gang said instantaneously, with a nod of their heads.

"Exactly. Rediculous, yes. Maybe even slightly…outlandish. But actually, dare I say…normal."

They chuckled a wry laugh just as they heard a door open.

Five heads snapped towards the direction of the hallway.

Angel emerged in the entrance. He didn't look too different from that afternoon, just with bigger bags under his eyes. He blinked sleepily, rubbing his make up coated eye, before heading to the kitchen.

"Angel?" JoAnne asked cautiously, craning her neck to follow the transvestites route. "You okay, honey?"

Angel stopped walking, and turned to look at JoAnne pensively.

Angel stared at the group.

The group stared at Angel.

There was a moment of silence, before he spoke.

"I'm sorry, JoAnne. I'm just a bit tired. I guess that's normal however, being a little jetlagged…I _ did _ just get back from the moon."

::Pause::

The scary part was, Angel sounded one hundred percent completely normal as he said it.

There was another peculiar pause, before a voice, ecstatic and thrilled, filled the loft.

"You mean, YOU went to the moon TOO?!?!" Collins lunged up, letting the forgotten watermelon fall to the floor. His eyes were alight and he stared at Angel with a look that was half desire, half elation.

Angels' expressionless eyes lit up, and the well-known grin of the week replastered itself on his face.

"YEAH!!!!!!"

"OH MY GOD!!! ME TOO!!!!!"

"REALLY?!?!?! WHEN?!?!?!?"

"THIS MORNING!!!!!!!!"

"COOL!!!!!!!!!!"

The two burst into hysterical laughter, before…

* Transition! *

They stopped laughing.

Collins' eyes filled with tears.

"There wasn't any watermelon, though."

Angels' face fell, and he cocked his head to regard his lover sadly.

"I'm sorry baby. I know. I could only eat cheese. At least…" his voice got low, as if he was about to say a bad word. "That's what they told me." Angel nodded heavily, eyes wide.

Collins gasped, eyes wide.

"Yeah! Me too! But," suddenly, the grin was back, "but LOOK, my Angel!!!!! I have watermelon HERE!!!!!"

"That's GREAT Collins!"

"Isn't it though?!?!"

Angel laughed and headed into the kitchen, where he quickly retrieved the chocolate cookie dough ice cream he had been looking for before heading back out into the living room.

And stopping dead in his tracks.

The container of ice cream fell, and the spoon clattered to the ground with a metal bang.

Collins was naked.

Collins blinked, and stared at Angel wide eyed.

Angel was naked.

Why was Collins naked?

Why was Angel naked?

Angel sputtered, his blood quickly heating once again in a painful desire.

"COLLINS!!!!!!! YOU PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!!"

Collins gasped, and looked down.

HE was clothed. It was ANGEL who was naked!

Collins lunged to his feet, backing slowly away from the drag queen. "I DON'T HAVE MY CLOTHES OFF!!! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S NAKED!!! PLEASE, MY ANGEL! UNLESS YOU WANNA LOSE THIS THING YOU GOTTA GET REDRESSED!!!"

The gang looked at the two staring at each other insanely in downright fear.

"What the FUCK?!?!" Roger cried, voice cracking in hysteria.

"Why are they looking at each other like that?" Maureens' brow crinkled. "Jesus Christ, what the fuck are they talking about? They're not fucking naked!!"

Mimis' eyes widened.

"Try telling them that," she said with an expectant tone.

"Huh?" Mark turned to Mimi curiously.

"Another psychological trick. DUH, they're not naked. They're just so damn sex starved they're seeing each other that way."

"Jesus CHRIST!!!!!!"

"Don't worry! It's NORMAL, Mark!"

Angel yelped and slowly ran back towards the hall.

"I GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!!!!!"

"YES!!! YES!! GO!!! PLEASE!!! AND DON'T COME OUT UNTIL YOU HAVE CLOTHES ON!!!"

Angel yelped and ran down the hall, once again slamming the door shut behind him.

CLACK!

There was a thick silence before Mark turned to Mimi, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, yeah Marquez. REAL normal."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heh!! Okay, so, sorry it took so much longer to get this part up…with school starting and FF. Net shutting down AGAIN (BAH) for like, the 32987594652374th time this summer, I was having some difficulty getting it finished. Alright. Things are gonna take a slightly…different turn in Chapter Six. You'll see! It might take me a bit longer to get that up as well, so please be patient and keep checking back!! Oh, and btw, I'm really sorry if I scared you guys with that whole watermelon thing. Believe it or not, that's actually a true story. I joke not. Be afraid. Be VERY afraid.

Chapter six will be here shortly!! Reviews Welcome!