(squeals) Thanks so much to all my reviewers, seriously, you ugys have made me feel great. Extra thanks to lulu, because honestly, I had a total block on this story until your totally sweet review, which I think might be the most complimentary I've ever gotten. So anyhow, enough of my ramblings. Here's the story!

Disclaimer: Yeah, definately still not mine

Angel stood in the middle of Mark's living room with tears in her eyes, wanting more than anything to scream, 'Fuck you, Collins, fuck you!' But she was far too lady-like to use such an expression, so she settled for collapsing on the couch and burying her head in her arms.

"Aw, honey," Maureen said with a little pouty face, sitting next to Angel and putting her arms around her. Angel, though she did not want to upset her by saying so, wanted Maureen off. She didn't want to talk to her right now.

Mark patted her awkwardly on the head. "You gonna be ok?" he asked.

Angel didn't put her head up and her voice was muffled when she spoke. "We don't fight," she mumbled, feeling terrible. How could she have said anything so awful? And to her Collins of all people?

"Oh, you silly bitch, don't worry about it!" Maureen declared, giving her a slightly-too-rough slap on the shoulder. "All couples fight! Hell, look at me and Joanne! We fight all the time."

…How comforting.

"Anyway." Angel felt Maureen stand up beside her. "You guys wanna see my new act? I need someone's input, and Joanne is being a bitch about it, surprise, surprise. She thinks the wet t-shirt part is too much, but I mean seriously! It's part of my, like, message!"

"Wet t-shirt?" Mark was obviously trying not to sound excited.

"Yeah, I have a pitcher of water and—"

"You know, I really have to get going," Angel said suddenly. As horribly tempting as a lesbian in a wet t-shirt was to this transvestite, she felt that she would rather opt out of this particular display. "I'm really sorry, Maureen sweetie, but I have to patch things up with Collins." She got up and kissed Maureen on each cheek. "You let me know when you're performing next, ok?" She said goodbye and thanks to Mark, and left the apartment.

She really had originally intended to go apologize to Collins, but as soon as she reached the sidewalk, it appeared that her feet had different plans.

She also realized that she had left her clothes in Mark's bedroom and was wearing four-inch chunky heels with men's clothing. She just rolled her eyes at herself and kept walking. If anyone noticed her strange ensemble, she did not know nor care.

Andy almost told Jason his secret once. They were at the park, kicking a soccer ball around in the grass. The other boys they had been playing with had left, but Andy hated going home and Jason going home even more, so they remained. Darkness was falling, the sky turning from bright blue to hazy yellow-blue. Having run around until their bodies were exhausted, the two of them collapsed onto a picnic bench. They stayed that way for a few minutes, catching their breath. Jason lay on his back on the table and Andy sprawled on the bench.

They talked a little about nothing in particular: soccer, cars, the ants that kept trying to climb and crawl all over Jason. Then Jason said "Can I tell you something?"

Andy's ears perked up. A vague thought crossed his mind. A secret? Jason has a secret? Could it possibly…. Could it be the same as mine?

"You can't tell anyone," Jason continued, turning onto his side to look at Andy. "I mean no one."

Andy shook his head. No, no of course not. He tried to stay nonchalant, but his eyes were hungry. I'm gay. Say those two words, Jason, please. I'm gay. Not too hard, right?

"I have obsessive compulsive disorder. I take medication for it."

Andy felt like he had been slapped. This was not what he was expecting… at all…. "Oh…," he said. He didn't know how to react to this. Obsessive compulsive disorder? It felt a little… anticlimactic.

But still. Jason had shared his secret. Andy should too.

And he probably would have if two guys hadn't walked by just then. They were holding hands.

"Fags," Jason muttered under his breath.

Angel wandered the streets for at least a half an hour. It was cold and sunny, a devious combination, in which you feel like you should be warm, but you are, in reality, freezing your cute little ass off.

But suddenly, right outside an obscure little coffee shop, the cold was gone. It was replaced by a wave of heat, which caused a tickle of perspiration to rise on Angel's forehead. Things started spinning. "Oh god," she said, collapsing against the brick wall, coughing.

People passed and no one spared more than the most fleeting of glances, for which Angel was actually grateful. Then someone came out of the coffee shop, and the someone put a hand on her shoulder, and the someone spoke in a Spanish accent when she said "Sir? Are you ok?"

As soon as Angel managed to take an adequate breath, she choked out an astonished, "Mimi?"

Mimi just stared at her, looking a little surprised. "How do you know my name?"

"It's me." Angel said. Mimi's eyebrows were still knitted together. Angel looked down at her heels and back at Mimi.

Mimi looked at the shoes and then back at her face. Angel could see the bewilderment in her eyes, and then, suddenly, the shocked recognition.

"Angel!"

"The one and only." Angel forced a grin, then cleared her throat.

"Angel, honey, are you ok?" Mimi put an arm around her shoulders. Angel nodded. She was… for now.

"I'll be fine," she said as Mimi led her back into the obscure café. Once inside, Mimi ordered Angel an ice water in the biggest cup they had with two straws. They sat down at a small table in the sun by the window.

The water felt amazing on Angel's throat. She sipped it greedily.

"So, girl, if you don't mind me asking," Mimi asked after giving Angel time to rehydrate herself, "what's with the clothes? You look like you just stepped out of Straight Eye for the Hopelessly Queer Guy."

Angel sighed. "It's a long story."

"I have a long time." She looked Angel in the eyes and smiled.

The next thing Angel knew, she was spilling her guts to Mimi, barely pausing for breath. She told her about the call from Jason, all her fears about what he would think about her new lifestyle, and her desperate impulse to hide it all from him. She told Mimi about how Maureen had dressed her up in Mark's clothes. And her fight with Collins. Told her how she had been feeling sick lately. How confused and scared she was about everything. By the time she was finished, her lip was quivering and she felt about to cry.

"Oh, Angel, honey!" Mimi exclaimed, squeezing her hand. "Oh, baby…."

"And there's no way I can pull it off, Mimi," Angel concluded, her voice shaking. "I've made Collins hate me over something I can't even do! Jason is never going to buy my act."

"First of all, Collins does not hate you," Mimi said, very sure of what she was saying. "He could never hate you. Angel do you have any idea how much he loves you? …He just…."

"He just what?" Angel took a sullen sip of water.

"He just knows that what you're doing… this whole Jason thing is…."

"Ridiculous?" Angel snapped. "Stupid, unreasonable, too far?"

"Self-destructive."

Angel let the word hit her mind and be absorbed. "How is it self-destructive?" Angel knew self-destructive. She knew it because it was part of the darkness that was her past.

During the course of high school, Andy Schunard tried to kill himself three times.

Angel was never self-destructive. That part of her that wanted to be was gone. She loved life now, every bit of it, and enjoyed it in any way she could. Partially because she knew that soon, probably in less than a year based on how she felt now (not that she would ever share her prediction with anyone), precious life would be taken away from her.

"Look at you," Mimi said softly. "I have never seen you act this way. You're scared and nervous, and just not Angel. You're hurting yourself whether you know it or not."

Angel didn't say anything. Just drank her water silently.

"Don't pout at me!" Mimi laughed. "I'm not lecturing. Simply observing. And you know what else I observe?"

"What?"

"That for reasons I don't completely understand, this means something to you." Angel raised her eyes to meet Mimi's. "And I'll help you."

Angel bit her lip, some form of happiness invading the sense of impending doom that had been swelling in her chest all day.

"You… you will?" She hardly dared believe it.

"Of course I will!" Mimi grabbed her hand again and held it firmly. "You're like my sister, Angel. How could I refuse?"

Angel felt the prickle of tears again, and this time they were not scared or hurt tears. They were grateful tears. "I love you, Mimi," she said.

"I love you too, honey." She smiled big enough that her cute little dimples were visible.

"Now," Mimi continued. "You take your water, we're going back to my place to find you some of Roger's clothes. If you're going to convince this Jason guy you're a real boy, you gotta dress like one. No offense to Mark, but he dresses like a fag."

Angel could not help but laugh.

Pretty please review, my dahlings!