A.N.: It's 4:15 already. You know what you gotta do? You gotta get up, and drive me, to the bagel store! You know why? 'Cause I need a bagel. You know I need a bagel.

Anybody who got the reference I will give a virtual donut to.

I am so proud of myself right now.

--

Mark was sorely perplexed when he got home. There were cups laying around the living room, and blankets tossed halfhazardly across the couches.

They had had some sort of party. Without him. In fact, they had chased him out.

Somewhere between being overly-tired and hopped up on caffeine, he got angry. So storming into the kitchen, he sat on the stool and stared moodily at the table.

How dare they!

He'd been sitting in the same position for close to half and hour when Mimi finally walked in. This made Mark glad, because he'd been sitting there hoping someone would come in and ask him what was wrong so he could yell at them. If she hadn't come in, he would have finally just given up, and then his big dramatic moment would have been ruined.

Plus, he was getting a crick in his neck.

"Good morning Mark."

Mark looked up. Mimi didn't seem to be paying much attention to his broody- Mark stance.

"Good morning Mimi."

Mimi got up and rummaged through the cupboards. She continued to not notice his broody-Mark stance.

"I said, good morning."

"I heard you." She didn't look at him.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Mimi pulled out a green bagel, held it to her nose, then turned to Mark. "Is this a spinach bagel, or is it just moldy?"

"I think-I think it's a spinach bagel." Even though Mark knew perfectly well that that particular bagel was over three months old. Collins and Roger had a running bet of how long it would last before going squishy.

"Oh, ok." Mimi took a large bite out of it. She paused, chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. "No, I think you're wrong Mark. It's moldy." She nodded, then took another bite as she walked out of the kitchen and into the adjoining den where the couches were. There she sat down, drew her knees up to her chest, and flipped through a magazine while periodically taking bites from the moldy bagel she held in her hand.

Roger shuffled out from the hall, and looked at Mimi. "Mimi! You're eating our bet!"

"What?"

"That's our moldy bagel!"

"What, is this your sick repressed mind trying to make up for some kids we'll never have or something?"

"No, I mean, it's Collins' and mine's bagel."

".Roger, does Angel know that you and Collins have a bagel together?"

"Mimi! We had a bet on how long before it went squishy."

"Well, how old is it?"

"About three months."

"Who had three months?"

"Collins."

"Collins won."

"Wait, you know it's a moldy-now-squishy bagel and you're still eating it?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"You're sick."

"And you're cruising for another elbow in the groin."

Roger rolled his eyes, cast another wary look at the bagel, and sat down on the couch.

"AHEM!"

"Oh, yeah, hey Mark. How was the festival?"

"Fine." Mark sulked visibly. "What did you guys do?"

"Nothing much. Sat around. It was a pretty quiet evening."

"Oh, I'm sure." Mark hissed, and stood up-ready to make his dramatic exit. He tripped over the chair leg.

"You okay man?"

"Yeah, sure, I'm fine! Perfectly fine! So fine, in fact, that I'm going to go outside and be fine there! Keep my fineness away from all the unfine people here!"

Roger and Mimi looked at each other, then shrugged. "Whatever. Okay. See you later Mark."

"Good bye."

--

Cor and Cal were walking through the mass of people, talking quietly with their heads bent towards each other. Quite a few people crossed to the other side of the street or made exaggeratedly disgusted gestures at their twined hands and close proximity.

Another pair of gay men passed by them, and one leaned over to talk to the other, while looking at Cor and Cal with furtive, unnerved glances.

"They're, like, twins."

Cor and Cal, of course, heard this, and smiled secretly at each other, before Cor proclaimed rather loudly: "We're cousins you dumb shit."

Cal jabbed him in the ribs.

In their distraction, they were caught off guard as a guy walking fast- hunched over with his hands shoved deep into his pockets-moved past them, knocking into Cal.

The guy turned sharply, and looked at them apologetically. "I'm sorry-I didn't mean-are you okay?" He had blonde hair, glasses, and slightly unnerved look. Cor thought he looked a little bit like one of those Trekkies.

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," Cal smiled, and held up his hands. "No problem."

"'Kay, I was just-geez, I usually don't run into people like that. I'm just, and little peeved, that's all. I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's no big deal." Cal touched one hand to his slightly piece-y auburn hair, and smiled. "See? Not a hair out of place."

"Hey," the guy looked between the two of them, "are you guys-I mean, are you.twins?"

"Not exactly," Cor flashed a grin of nearly identical proportion to Cal's. "But there is an uncanny resemblance, isn't there?"

"Hell yeah." The blonde nodded, and brushed stray piece of dirt off his pants self-consciously. The two were almost immaculately dressed in jeans and tight sleeveless shirts. The two were not unaware of the jealousy their conversant harbored for the chiseled muscles they both possessed.

"Well," Cal held out his hand, "I'm Cal. This is Cor."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Mark."

"Well, nice to meet you too Mark." Cor shook his hand, and motioned to him and Cal. "You wanna walk with us?"

"Yeah, sure, why? You sure you wanna be seen with me?"

"Hey, sure." Cal smiled. "People already suspect us of homosexuality and incest, why not add unnatural threesomes to the list?"

Mark looked horrified, but Cor only laughed, slapped Cal on the shoulder, and they made their way continuing down the crowded street.