Author's Notes:

This is another chapter I'm proud of, which I think under Rentfic rules means it'll suck and everyone will hate it. :P Anyhow, um, please review anyhow, it makes me feel loved and gives me hope that people will follow me through all the way to the end of this huge beast of a fic. Rinny(Kate?), can I take you up on that promise to write more? And Sashay, I need more After the Fall. Lola, that applies to you too. Must.have.fic.



"You know, you're absolutely adorable when you're soaking wet," my boyfriend informed me, attempting to lift up my towel with his foot.

I stepped away and swatted playfully at his leg. "You're insatiable, Roger Davis," I sighed. "Can't you last longer than half an hour?"

"But I don't wanna wait," he whined.

"Well, you'll just have to," I told him firmly. "I have to work tonight, and I'll be late enough as it is without you helping."

He pouted, looking up at me with those wounded little-boy eyes. "But I'll be so lonely without you."

I stepped into my closet and slipped on my bathrobe before emerging again, using the towel to dry my hair. "I'll miss you too, my little chuleta," I informed him, curling up next to him on the bed. "But I'll be off by midnight, and we'll have the rest of the night to ourselves."

"Why won't you tell me what that means?" Roger whined. "You're always saying all this stuff in Spanish and you never translate any of it!"

I laughed and kissed the wrinkle in his forehead. "Chiquitita, you make too much out of this," I scolded him playfully.

"There you go again!" he complained. "Okay, that does it, I'm going to look it up."

"How?" I grinned, enjoying the sight of him running around the room in his boxers, looking for his pants.

"Mark has a Spanish/English dictionary somewhere upstairs," he answered, dropping to his knees and peering under the bed. "Where the hell did my jeans go?"

I sat up and plucked them off the lampshade, tucking them into a ball and throwing them at his head. Roger rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

He tugged them on and dashed upstairs. I reluctantly got up and began getting dressed for work. If I didn't do this while Roger was gone, I'd have to put up with him stealing items of my clothing and holding them ransom until I kissed him. Which was pleasant, true, but I'd been late for work twice this week, and Robbie wasn't happy with me at the moment.

It had been quite a week, to say the least. When Roger and I came down from the fire escape on Christmas Eve, we'd discovered that Benny had padlocked the front door so no one could get in. Roger was pissed as hell, convinced that Benny had done it to get back at him and Mark for not paying their rent. But he'd *promised*, Roger told me. Benny had sworn up and down that he would never charge his former roommates to live in their apartment.

I had my own theory on this. Benny hadn't been happy to find Roger and me together, and I had a feeling he was still sore about our own breakup, even though three months had passed by. I didn't tell Roger this-- who in their right mind tells their brand new boyfriend of two hours about all the other guys she's dated, especially when said boyfriend is furious at said ex-boyfriend? So I sympathized with Roger's outrage, and promised that something would work out.

And it did, to an extent. Mark went to stay with Maureen, who was more than happy to have either the company, or the opportunity to make her now ex-girlfriend Joanne jealous. I hadn't seen Angel since dinner at the cafe, but I had a feeling she and Collins were having a pretty good time themselves.

So Roger and I were left without anywhere to stay. We spent the better part of an hour huddled together outside the café, me shivering to keep warm, Roger bitching about Benny. I can't remember whose idea it was to climb back up the fire escape and break into the building, but it worked very nicely. The heat had been turned back on, and we had the entire building to ourselves. We were free to go wild, and neither one of us was the type to waste such an opportunity. We'd made love in the elevators, in the stairwell, even down in the laundry room.

I was happy. For the first time in a long time, since I'd broken up with Benny, since I'd been diagnosed with HIV, even since my father had died, I had something and someone to live for. I couldn't describe it, but there was something about Roger that was special.

"My little *pork chop*??" I turned around to see my boyfriend holding up a Spanish/English dictionary, his face caught between indignation and laughter. "You call me your little pork chop?"

"Oh, Roger," I giggled. "It's a term of endearment. My mother called me and my sisters that all the time."

"All right, my little cantaloupe," he grinned. "Anything you say, my little graham cracker."

I laughed and threw a pillow at him. He threw it right back, and the situation quickly escalated into a tickle war.

"Okay, okay!" I managed to gasp between laughter. "You win! Now let me go to work!"

Roger turned those pleading little-boy eyes in my direction. "You promise you'll come right back afterwards?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away," I promised, throwing my leather jacket over my shoulders and kissing my boyfriend quickly on the lips. "I'll see you later tonight."

It was five thirty when I left the apartment building, exiting through a back door. I wasn't due at the club for another hour, but there was a stop I needed to make on the way.



I knew Benny would be in his office. It didn't matter that it was two days from New Years, and just about everyone in New York was at home with their families. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and Benny always worked weekdays. It was both the most endearing and the most obnoxious thing about him.

I knocked on his office door, feeling as shy and nervous as I did on that day so many months ago when I came to beg him to give me more time to pay my rent. "Come in," he called, a trace of annoyance in his voice. This wasn't going to be as easy as I'd hoped.

He stared at me when I came in. "Wow. What's the occasion, Mimi?"

I blushed a little as I stared down at my outfit. Black leather skirt, black lace bra under a see-through shirt, it always resulted in my getting good tips at the club. But it felt different now that I was here, alone with Benny. What was he going to think, with my showing up out of the blue dressed like this?

Then again, it didn't matter what he thought, as long as he listened to what I said.

"Benny, I've come to ask a favor," I began. "Do you have a minute?"

"For you, I have ten," he replied automatically, still staring.

That was easier than I expected. Now came the hard part. "Benny, I know it was really awkward when we saw each other on Christmas Eve," I started hesitantly. "It was the first time we'd seen each other in three months, and you were probably a little jealous that I was with Roger--"

"What do you see in that asshole anyhow?" Benny demanded. "Mimi, he's a loser. You can do so much better for yourself."

"He's not a loser!" I retorted. "And I don't think it's very fair-- or professional," I threw out, remembering how fond he was of that word, "-- to lock all your tenants out just to get back at me for finding a new boyfriend!"

"God, I have *had* it!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "Alison's been bitching at me all week over the damn dog, and now you come in with this preposterous idea that I'm jealous of Roger?"

"Benny, you're not being fair," I insisted. "If you're mad at me, fine, throw me out. I'll find somewhere else to live. But Roger and Mark don't have anything to do with this."

He stood up and glared at me. "You certainly have a high opinion of yourself, don't you, Miss Marquez," he said icily. "Why would you automatically assume this is all about you?"

"Maybe it's not, I don't know," I shrugged. "I'm sorry I wasted your time."

I opened the door. He strode across the room and slammed it shut again.

My heart began pounding faster. "Benny, I have to go to work."

"Surely you can spare a few more minutes for old time's sake." His voice sounded normal, but there was something in his eyes that frightened me.

"I mean it, Benny, I'm going to be late." I reached for the door handle. He grabbed my wrist and flung it away. "Stop it, Benny, you're scaring me!"

"You *bitch*!" he snarled, grabbing me by my shirt and shoving me against the wall. The fragile material tore under his rough grasp. "You think you can walk in here with your sex kitten act and get me all worked up, then waltz out nice as you please?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I pleaded. "And I don't know what you want, but you're frightening me, Benny. Please let me go."

"You'll go when I say you can go," he spat. His face was twisted and ugly, and although I was searching desperately, I couldn't find any trace of the Benny I knew, who loved to surprise me with flowers and was always, always gentle when he touched me.

He was kissing me now, his mouth pressing down insistently on mine while his hands tore at my clothes. I was trapped. Everyone in the building was home--it was two days before New Years, after all. There was no one to call for help. No one would hear me if I screamed.

Benny grabbed me again, and threw me down on his desk. Office supplies scattered everywhere. He lowered himself on top of me, that ugly look of satisfaction still gleaming in his eyes.

"You pig!" I screamed, thrusting my knee up into his crotch. He shuddered, and halted for a moment. I did it again, and this time, was able to escape from under him and roll off the desk.

"Oh my God, Mimi." he whispered. He looked like the old Benny now, but I still shrunk back. "Mimi, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me."

"What the fuck were you doing?" I screamed at him.

"I didn't mean to, I swear," he protested. "I've been under so much stress this week, and Alison's been on my case and I never meant to do that. You know I'd never hurt you."

"You almost did, you shit!" I shouted at him, tears streaming down my cheeks. "You fucking tried to rape me!"

He took a few steps toward me. "Mimi, I'm sorry."

"Fuck you, Benny." I kicked him in the shin, as hard as I could. "I'm not your whore."

I stormed out of his office and slammed the door behind me. On the way to work, I stopped by a McDonalds and washed my face and straightened my clothes as best I could. What I really wanted was a long, hot shower, but that would have to wait until after work.

I danced numbly through the next five hours, wanting more than anything to get it over with so I could go home. When I finally arrived back at my apartment, I found Roger asleep, clutching a pillow to his chest and looking so cute that I had to smile, in spite of everything that had happened to me.

I took a shower, staying under the water as long as I could, scrubbing furiously in the hope I could wash the whole ugly experience away. When I got out, I dressed myself in a pair of Roger's boxer shorts and an old shirt of his. The last thing I felt like doing was being sexy.

Roger didn't stir as I climbed into bed next to him, or as I cried myself to sleep.