Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. The writing of this chapter was made extremely um…*interesting* by a couple of Wicked characters that kept jumping into my head in the middle of it…::glares at Elphie and Yero::

Anyway, in the interest of coming full circle again, I've decided to go back to using random suggestions…how *did* that stop in the first place…::ponders:: On that note, here's what was used in this chapter:

Quote: Provided by Goddess of Ivy

Activity: washing dishes (suggested by both Mo and Mari so I guess I'll give ya both credit for it…=P)

Object: straightening iron (provided by Mo)

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Chapter 36: Soap Suds and Straightening Irons

August 1st

7:37 AM

"This isn't working," Maureen whined, closing one eye and frowning at her reflection in the mirror.

"Well, what do you expect?" Joanne asked, neatly rolling her curling iron through her dark hair. "You paid…what, ten dollars for it? And why do you want to straighten your hair anyway? I thought you liked it curly."

Maureen dragged the iron through her hair again, making comical faces at herself in the mirror.

"What can I say, I'm cheap."

"You can say that again," Joanne muttered.

"Hey!"

"It was a joke, Mo."

"Well it wasn't funny. And I *do* like my hair curly. I just want to look neat for my audition today."

Joanne snorted.

"You. Neat. Since when have you cared about looking neat?"

Joanne finished curling her hair and unplugged the iron. Maureen continued to struggle with her unruly brown curls, only succeeding in making her hair into a fluffy brown frizz ball.

"Since now. And *it* *won't* *work*."

She bounced on her feet a little, punctuating each word. Joanne smirked at her in the mirror.

"Well, you know what they say…when life gives you lemons…when the going gets tough…"

"The tough make lemonade!" Maureen interrupted excitedly.

Joanne rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. I suppose you could say that."

Maureen grinned. She finally gave up on the straightening iron, pulling her long hair back into a bun and covering it with globs of hair gel, then began putting on makeup. Joanne continued to roll her eyes as she watched Maureen apply dark green eye shadow.

"So you think I'll get this job?" Maureen asked.

Joanne threw up her hands hopelessly.

"How should I know? I've told you a million times, Maureen, I'm not a theatre person! And besides, I can't win. I'm putting my life on the line regardless of what I say. If I tell you I think you will and then you don't get it, you'll hate me. If I tell you I don't think you will, then you'll kill me on the spot."

"You don't think I'm good enough," Maureen said sourly, zipping up her purse and glaring at Joanne. Joanne glared back.

"See?" she said irritably.

"No. I don't see."

Maureen turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

Joanne sighed and glowered at her reflection in the mirror.

"You're right," she said softly, "You don't see. But maybe you would if you'd just take the time to look."

~~~**~~~

2:33 PM

The Loft

"Roger!" Mimi called. "Hey, Roger!"

When she got no answer, she sighed loudly and blew at a small soap bubble that had gotten caught on one of the tendrils of hair that was hanging in her face. It was sweltering in the loft and although she'd just taken a shower, Mimi felt like her clothes were plastered to her skin. Roger had been getting on her nerves all morning, refusing to get out of bed and then up off the couch where he'd been watching television, and the large pile of dirty dishes she'd found in the sink that had been left after one of Roger's "Guys' Nights" was doing nothing to help her mood.

Collins, smart man that he was, had agreed to help Joanne organize her office for the afternoon and had thereby managed to escape the lack of air conditioning in the loft.

"ROGER!" Mimi called again.

He appeared a moment later, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, his face covered in crease marks from the bed sheets. He yawned and stretched, groaning loudly.

"Yes?"

Mimi rolled her eyes.

"Come help me with these," Mimi answered, forcing herself to be patient.

Roger sighed and went over to stand just over her left shoulder, watching silently as she continued to wash the dishes.

"Roger…"

"What?!" He asked defensively.

"That's not helping."

"Well what do you want?"

"Help! You know, where you do something that makes the job a little easier for the other person?" she snapped.

Roger grinned then, his entire face lighting up.

"Oh, *that*! How about you wash, and I'll dry?"

Mimi sighed again.

"I'll take whatever I can get, I guess. My God, Roger, how did you manage while I was gone?"

"Oh, easy, I made Mark do all the housework." Roger frowned slightly at the sound of his name.

Mimi snorted.

"Why am I not surprised by that…"

"Hey! I work…sometimes."

"Oh and when would that be?" Mimi asked dryly.

"When…um…"

"Exactly."

Roger grabbed a gray dishtowel off the counter and rolled it carefully, then snapped it at Mimi, neatly catching her backside.

She shrieked in surprise, then rounded on him, hands on her hips.

"You are so dead."

"Wow, really?" Roger asked in mock surprise. "I wonder how many lives I have left."

Mimi groaned and leaned back against the counter, roughly brushing her hair back off her forehead.

"What?" Roger asked innocently.

"You drive me crazy, did you know that?"

"Yeah, I guess I did. You look hot."

"No kidding," Mimi grumbled, wiping her forehead with the back of one hand, "It's only about a hundred degrees in here."

"I didn't mean like that…"

"Ah. Well, now I see where your mind has been all morning. No wonder you've been so wonderfully productive."

Roger snorted loudly and Mimi rolled her eyes at him.

"God, grow up."

"You know, I'm not entirely sure I like the new you…You used to be a lot more fun before you got all responsible."

Roger grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her against his chest, removing the dishrag from her hands. She giggled.

"I can still be fun. Just not when you're acting so…"

"Romantic? Suave? Dead sexy?" Roger suggested.

"Male," she said finally, as though the word itself were an aberration.

Roger laughed and kissed her.

"I thought you liked masculinity. Come on, be fun. The dishes will still be there in an hour or two. I on the other hand will have gone completely and totally insane."

Mimi quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I thought you did that already. Roger, no, it's too hot."

"*Too* hot?"

Mimi groaned.

"Roger…"

He pulled away suddenly and dashed over to the refrigerator.

"I can fix that."

"What are you doing?" Mimi asked warily.

"Fixing your hotness…heat? Not that it needs fixing but if you insist…"

Roger grabbed a handful of ice out of the icebox and dropped it down the back of her neck.

She screamed, then grabbed a handful of soapy water from the sink and flung it at him.

Roger scooped Mimi into his arms and held her threateningly over the sink.

"Cooled down enough yet?" he asked, grinning mischievously.

Mimi grinned back, then kissed him.

"If you insist."

~~~**~~~

Random thins I want for the next chapter:

Quotes

Activities

Places

Random Objects

REVIEW PLEASE!