Author's Note: Okay, so here it is…the last chapter. Honestly, I didn't think I'd get here. I've never written anything this long before, and the only stories I've ever finished have been much, much shorter. The improv idea was good but, well…it didn't quite happen. Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.

This will be my last long RENTfic, probably my last altogether. I'm still writing fanfics, but my obsession is more focused on Wicked now…So, thanks to all the RENTheads who have read my fics, and I hope you'll continue reading the stories I am working on.

A special thanks to my team of moral support people who have listened to me whine and given me more fic help than I have a right to…you all should really be listed as co-authors: Liv, Mo, Risa, Mari, Jan, Amy, Liz, Sunny, and Katie. And anyone else who reviewed…I love you all.

And if you've stuck with me this long…you can actually read the end of my fic.

Much love to all,

Michelle

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Chapter 42: What Binds the Fabric Together

December 24th

11:02 PM

The Loft

"December twenty-fourth," Mark narrated, panning his camera across the room, "eleven PM. It's snowing out. No, not snowing, blizarding."

"Mark, there's no such word," Maureen interrupted from her seat at the table.

"Too bad," said Mark, still holding the camera. "Moving on. The gang's back together again, whether we like it or not. I kind of wonder sometimes if we even have a choice in the matter. It's like we all gravitate toward this place against our will somehow. Maybe somewhere in the subconscious that we can't even see, we're all connected by invisible bonds of fate." Mark paused for a moment. "Or maybe we're all just hopeless romantics who can't leave the past behind. Wow…and I don't even *believe* in fate." Mark switched off his camera and shook his head. "I swear, I don't know where words like that come from sometimes."

"That's why you need to get out from behind that thing more," said Maureen. "It's taking over your brain." She grabbed a napkin and dramatically crumpled it up, making a very loud, very exaggerated "squish" noise. "That's your brain. That's what your camera is doing to it."

Mark rolled his eyes at her and sat down at the table. Today it had been set up in the middle of the room, with every free chair or other piece of furniture it was possible to sit on pulled up and crowded around it. Everyone had met in the loft, even Joanne, for the annual Christmas tree decorating and general party. Maureen had brought along materials for making what she referred to as "real" Christmas tree ornaments, and they were all currently her captives at the table as she attempted to instruct them.

Maureen held up a piece of paper and a glitter-glue stick, and began attempting to squeeze some of the glitter out. The glue stick, however, had other ideas. All it would oblige her in doing was making awful noises that made the rest of the group dissolve into uproarious laughter.

"Wow, Mo," said Benny, who had succeeded in making something that looked at least a little like a Christmas tree ornament—a circular piece of paper covered in red sequins, "you seem to be really gifted at this art stuff." He snickered obnoxiously, earning him an acid glare from both Mimi and Maureen.

Roger got up from the table and went over to pet Fender, who was sitting in one corner looking lonely. He picked her up and carried her over to the table, grunting with the effort.

"Hey, Mimi, your baby's not so little anymore. She's getting…um…burly?"

Mimi giggled and pulled the cat onto her lap. Over the past year, Fender had grown to be one of the largest, fattest cats anyone had imagined possible.

"Are you calling my cat fat?" Mimi asked indignantly.

"Um…no?" Roger answered cautiously, leaning down to kiss the back of her neck.

Mimi giggled and smacked at him playfully.

"Hey!" Roger protested, "I carry your cat all the way over here for you and I don't even get a kiss?"

Mimi quirked an eyebrow at him.

"A kiss would be fine. Slobbering down my neck however…is not fine."

Benny burst into laughter at that, a little too loudly. Everyone gave him an odd look. Roger sat back down beside Mimi and put an arm around her. Fender stretched out across both of their laps.

Mark picked up his camera again and started to turn it on, but then stopped himself and put it back down.

"What?" asked Joanne, who had been quiet all evening.

"I was just thinking…how much has happened. How much has changed. It seems like…it's never easy for us."

Mimi nodded.

"I agree…maybe there's some kind of…I don't know. Something out there that keeps testing us."

"Or maybe there isn't," Collins interrupted, "Maybe life is what's hard. And maybe we're lucky to be here at all. I don't really think it's how long, or how well you live your life, but maybe…maybe it's how much love is in your life."

"I know…" said Roger slowly, "It's just…it seems like something's always trying to ruin us. I mean…how much more of this is our little group going to be able to take and still be together?"

"There's a happy thought for you," muttered Maureen.

"Well, we're still together now," said Joanne.

Everyone turned and looked at her.

"What? We are. We've had our share of fights and accidents and illness and…everything imaginable in just the last year. And look at us. We're still here. And we're still together. And I really don't think there's anything that can change that, fate or otherwise."

A silence fell over the room. Maureen got up slowly and walked over to the old, smudged window, recently patched with duct tape after a stone had been thrown at it from the street below.

"What?" Roger asked. "What do you see?"

"Come look."

Slowly, one by one, the group got up and went to stand behind Maureen. The storm had mostly died down, except for a few clean, new looking snowflakes that fell in gentle showers every few seconds. A full moon shown out over the street, transforming the normally gray, dingy looking city into a shining white paradise.

"It's beautiful," Mimi said, wrapping an arm around Roger's waist.

"It's a sign," said Maureen in her most mystical voice.

"Of what?" asked Mark.

Maureen shrugged.

"I don't know. But it is. It's a sign that…that nothing's certain. And that anything can happen. For us…for anyone. That life will go on…and tomorrow will be another day…and we have to go on anyway and try to be as happy as we can."

Everyone turned and gaped at Maureen.

"What?" she said uneasily, "What?"

"Are you still…you?" asked Roger.

"Yeah…"

"Where did that come from?"

"The same place Mark's narrations come from. Come on, it's Christmas. We have to at least do something to act like it." She put up her hands and beckoned to Mark and Roger. Each of them took one of her hands, and the others followed suit until they were all standing in a circle holding hands. Outside, the snow continued falling, and the full moon shown down onto the empty New York street.

~~~**~~~

Well…that's it. ::cries:: Seriously, this has been awesome. Thanks for reading, and if you're still sticking with me at this point…I bow down to you.

One last review? Maybe?