Author's Note: Wow…for those of you who saw the typos earlier. Sorry. I typed the whole chapter really fast because I didn't think I'd be home tonight…and…yeah. Sorry. ::blushes::

~~~**~~~

Chapter 39: Halloween

October 31

3:31 PM

The Loft

"I don't see why he has to come here," Roger grumbled, glaring at the stack of dirty dishes that had accumulated in the sink from the morning's breakfast. "He was too good to be here for the rest of us, why should this be any different?"

Mimi glared warningly at him.

"Roger…can you just let be for today? You know Collins doesn't have much time left, and this can't be easy for him as it is. The last thing any of us needs is you picking a fight with Mark."

"He's bringing it on himself!"

"Roger! I swear to God if you start anything today….I don't know what's gotten into you lately. This should be Angel's day. Can't you forget about being angry with Mark for *once*? Please, Roger, ignore him, give him the cold shoulder, I don't give a damn! Just don't start a fight."

Roger sighed.

"Mark doesn't deserve any favors."

"Then don't do it for Mark! Do it for Collins…and for me."

Roger stared at the floor for a long time, his demeanor softening noticeably.

"Fine." He went over to Mimi and kissed the back of her neck. "For you. And Angel. I'll be good."

Mimi grinned and tousled his hair as if he were a small child.

"Good. Go get dressed. Everyone will be here soon."

She snapped a dishtowel at his backside as he turned to leave. Roger laughed and flipped her off over his shoulder. Mimi sighed and turned back to the sink, a quiet sadness descending over her like a fog. It was only two years since Angel had died, and already so much had happened. So much had changed.

Collins had wanted for everyone to be together, had wanted to visit Angel's grave. But a damp, clammy cold had come in sometime during the night and with Collins' rapidly declining health, a trip away from the loft was out of the question. As though sensing her thoughts, Collins emerged from the bedroom, coughing.

"Morning," Mimi greeted, going over to give the professor a hug.

"Hey," Collins sounded tired, older somehow.

"Mark and Aimee should be here soon," said Mimi, attempting to cheer him up at least a little. "And Maureen and Joanne."

Collins nodded, but didn't say anything in response. As if on cue, there was a knock on the door, and Mimi ran to answer it. Collins smiled a little when she returned with Mark and Aimee following. They exchanged hugs and warm greetings with the others. Mimi went into the kitchen to finish the dishes. She was surprised when Mark followed.

"How's Syracuse?" she asked casually, looking thoughtfully at the soap bubbles forming in the sink.

"Good," said Mark, "Stressful. Mind-boggling. Frustrating."

Mimi raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"I love it."

Mimi smiled at him.

"I'm glad. You deserve to be happy, Marky."

"And you?" Mark asked.

Mimi jumped slightly at the question. Somehow she hadn't been expecting it.

"What?"

"Are you happy?"

Mimi shrugged.

"I guess. Listen, Mark, whatever Roger does today…just ignore it. I'm apologizing in advance. I have no idea what's up with him. He hasn't been himself ever since…" she trailed off and shrugged.

Mark nodded slowly.

"Is he still angry with me?"

Mimi sighed.

"He's angry with the world. I don't know what to do about it anymore…He needs help, but if I so much as try to *suggest* it, he flies off the handle."

Mark put an arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I don't know, Mimi. You can't force Roger into anything he doesn't want. If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that. I guess the best you can do is just wait and see. He'll come to his senses eventually."

Mimi smiled a little.

"You really think so?"

"He always has before."

"I hope…"

The doorbell rang again, and Joanne entered, alone. At the same time, Roger appeared from his bedroom, a sour look on his face. An uneasy silence fell over the room.

"Where's Maureen?" Roger asked at last.

Joanne sighed angrily.

"God knows. Not that I *care.*"

"You broke up?" Aimee asked, sounding surprised.

Joanne nodded.

"When?" asked Mimi, "What happened?"

Joanne shrugged.

"A month ago. She ran off with some guy from her show."

"Oh, honey, why didn't you tell us?" asked Collins. "I mean, I knew we hadn't seen much you two lately, but I assumed you were just busy."

"It's okay," Joanne said firmly. "It's better this way. It had to happen eventually."

She went over and sat down on the couch, ending the discussion. Another awkward silence descended, in which Mark and Roger eyed each other warily.

"So." Said Mimi, attempting to start another conversation. No one else spoke, but Roger went over and put his arms around her protectively. Mark sat down on the couch next to Joanne and pulled Aimee onto his lap. She turned around and looked at him expectantly. Mark cleared his throat.

"Um…we have some news."

"Do tell," prompted Collins.

"We…uh…"

"We're getting married!" Aimee interrupted excitedly.

"Congratulations!" Collins exclaimed, going over to kiss his sister on the cheek.

Fender stuck her head out from behind the couch and mewed loudly, as though offering her own sentiments. Everyone laughed.

"So," Collins said when the laughter had died down again. "It's exactly two years today since Angel…passed. Mark…would you start the film?"

Everyone sat down around the table in the middle of the room and grew quiet. The tradition of watching Mark's documentary on the anniversary of Angel's death had been started the year before.

They were halfway through the film when they were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Mark got up and went to answer it. After a few moments during which a muffled conversation could be heard, Mark returned, followed by Maureen and a dark haired man the group had never seen before. A collective stir went through the room, and Joanne got to her feet. Maureen smiled sweetly at her.

"Hello all," she said loudly, "This is Jason. We've been together for a month now, I figured I ought to introduce you." That said, she grabbed Jason's arm and led him over to the couch. She motioned for him to sit, then sat down beside him, putting an arm around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. Joanne continued to stare. After a moment, Maureen turned around again and glared at her.

"What? Problem, Pookie?"

"You *dare* to waltz in here like that, trailing your new…*prize* behind you like a dog," Joanne spat, "On today of all days, and you expect us to just be *okay* with it?"

Maureen shrugged.

"Nobody *else* seems to have a problem with it."

"Get out. Both of you."

"I don't believe this is your house."

"It doesn't matter. Leave."

"You have no right to make me."

"Out!"

"Forget it, bitch."

"Stop!" Collins shouted finally, getting to his feet. "Just stop it, both of you. Or leave. I refuse to let your petty arguments ruin this day. What would Angel think if she could see us now?"

Maureen and Joanne sat back down. Mark and Roger glanced at each other guiltily. The group lapsed into the guilty silence of broken friendship as the end of Mark's film played on the old, static covered television.

~~~**~~~

Wow…wasn't that nice and depressing…review please!