Mark quickly paid for the shortened dinner, and helped Maureen with her coat.

"I fucked up, didn't I," Roger grumbled.

Mark rolled his eyes. "You could say that."

The three of them wandered outside. Mimi was not outside.

"Excuse me," Mark asked one of the valet parkers. "Did you happen to see a young woman storm out here? She's kinda short…curly hair…"

"Is she pregnant?"

Mark nodded, slowly.

He pointed. "Yeah, she stomped off that way a little while ago. I don't think she was intending to wait for anybody."

Mark glared at Roger, menacingly. "Thanks."

"Hey, no problem."

"I think she decided to go home by herself," Mark told Maureen and Roger as he walked back over. "And I don't blame her."

"She didn't have to get so defensive," Roger said, with a bit of a slur in his voice.

"Yeah, Rog, you only told a complete stranger some very personal information," Mark snapped. He took Maureen's hand. "C'mon," he said. "Let's see if we can't catch up to her."

Mimi entered the loft a few minutes after the others arrived, throwing down her purse in frustration.

"Mimi," Roger said, cautiously as she rushed by him.

"Fuck off," she snapped, pushing her way past him.

Mark winced, from the other side of the room. Ouch.

"Are you okay, honey?" Maureen asked Mimi, putting her hands on her shoulder.

"Well considering I got fucking mugged on the way over here, no," Mimi growled, through clenched teeth.

Mark lifted up his head. "What?"

"What happened?" Maureen exclaimed.

"To be brief, he cornered me, threatened me with his knife and told me if I didn't hand over my wallet, I'd be sorry."

"Jesus," Maureen breathed. "How much did he take?"

"I don't know. Probably about fifty dollars."

"He didn't get your ring, did he?"

"No," Mimi said coldly, looking at Roger. "He was too fucked up to noticed it."

"Well that wouldn't have happened if you'd of walked with us," Roger mumbled.

"Oh, so I see, it's my fault that I decided to leave the restaurant in a hurry because you're an asshole!" she shouted at him.

"You didn't have to leave," he yelled back at her.

Mimi snorted. "Well I don't think anyone else would want to be around when you're telling personal stories to total strangers."

"Well maybe if you didn't used to be such a whore, I wouldn't have any 'personal' stories to tell," Roger shouted.

Everyone was silent.

"Meems, don't listen to him, he's drunk," Maureen pleaded with Mimi, who was staring at Roger, infuriated.

"You're such a prick," Mimi hissed at him. "Whenever you have a problem you just need to drink it away, don't you? And where does it ever get you?"

Roger refused to meet her eye. "You're exaggerating," he said, lamely.

"Everything's an exaggeration for you, Roger. I don't even think you know what a jerk you are sometimes."

"Can't a guy drink every now and then?" he snapped.

Mimi stomped her foot, startling Maureen and Mark. "Don't you get it? That's not the point. You're so immature sometimes."

"Better to be immature than a bitch," he said, regretting the words as soon as he uttered them.

Furious, Mimi grabbed one of Mark's books off the couch and chucked it at Roger's head, who quickly ducked, allowing the book to bang into the wall.

"I don't need to deal with this," Mimi said, tears teasing the corners of her eyes. She tugged her ring off her finger and let it drop to the floor. "There. Do what you want with it," she sniffed. She turned to Maureen. "Can I stay at your place tonight?" she whispered .

Maureen closed her mouth, which was gaped open with shock. "I…yes…I guess so," she said, slowly.

"Can we go then? Now?" Mimi asked, through clenched teeth.

Maureen sighed, and looked at Mark.

"It's okay," he said, quietly.

Maureen shot Roger a dirty look, and put her arm around Mimi, and the two of them slowly retreated down the stairs to Maureen's apartment, and the door closed with a slam.

As soon as the two reached Maureen's apartment, Mimi broke down when they got to the doorway and began to cry.

"Oh, honey, it's okay," Maureen hugged her as she sniffled into her shoulder. "This'll all blow over soon."

"No it won't," Mimi whispered, hot tears filling up her eyes.

"Yes it will," Maureen insisted. "I know you two. You fight all the time, and then you make up."

Mini sniffled. "Not as bad as this. He called me a whore to my face for no reason at all."

"He's just frustrated," Maureen said, softly. "He doesn't like to be wrong."

Mimi shuddered, still crying, but said nothing.

"Here, come on inside," Maureen said, opening the door. "Do you want to use the shower or anything?"

"No. I just want to go to sleep," Mimi whispered. "Can I use the couch?"

"Of course. Let me get a blanket," she said, rushing over to the pantry and returning with a quilt. "Here. Angel gave this to me when I hosted that picnic in Washington Park," she said, giving Mimi a small smile.

Mimi grasped the quilt, looking at the magenta and purple pattern. Very Angel.

"You think she'd want to see you two so upset and fighting?" Maureen asked, rubbing her back.

Mimi wiped at her eyes and shook her head. "No," she murmured, truthfully.

"If you need anymore blankets or pillows, just let me know…"

"Thank you. This is fine," Mimi said, retreating to the couch.

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning, honey," Maureen said, softly. "You'll see. Everything will be fine."

"Yeah," Mimi said uncertainly, tugging at the quilt.

"Why did you do that?" Mark said to Roger once Mimi and Maureen had left.

"Do what," Roger mumbled, his gaze fixated on the ring Mimi had thrown on the floor.

"You know what. Go off at her when she had a right to be angry at you."

Roger sighed and tugged at his hair. "I don't know. I can't think straight."

"No shit," Mark snapped. "And what the fuck did you think you were doing, bringing up Jan during dinner with the waiter? Did you not thinking it would fucking make Maureen uncomfortable? And not only was Mimi upset about you talking about her old job at the club, but how do you think she felt, when  you brought up April like that? You talked as if she was only a replacement for April when she died."

Roger looked at him. "Did it really sound like that?" he asked, weakly.

"Yes. It did," Mark said, shaking his head. "And why were you drinking like that anyway?"

"I don't know" Roger grumbled. "I'm just…frustrated, I guess. With everything. The wedding…the babies. I just fucked everything up." He chewed his lip and looked at the ring on the ground. He bent down and picked it up, sliding it into his pocket. "And I think I fucked this up permanently."

"You'll make up with her," Mark said, with little comfort.

"Mark," Roger said. "I'm sorry."

Mark sighed. "I don't think I'm the one who needs to hear it."

Author's Note: Reviews are almost as fun as Daphne whispering controversial things into my ear ;)