AN: We've come to a milestone! 30 CHAPTERS! WHEE :dances around with Japanese fans: Domo, minna-san! Especially the fact that we have almost 1700 hits! YAY! (I'd like to hit 1800. If possible )

Alison: I can't believe you've written something that's this long.

You've never seen my LOTR ripoff, have you?

Alison: I really care not to think about that one.

Uh-huh.

Alison: Hey, you better mention something about the weeks prior to-what is it you're calling it? Oh yeah- "The best fucking thing EVER!"

I assume you mean the Rent movie.

Alison: No, HP 4. Of course I mean the goddamn movie!

With Adam and his sexash Bon Jovi hair...

Alison: (which he shaved off.)

(I told you never to speak of it.)

Alison: (JUST GET ON WITH THE GODDAMN THING)

(Oh, FINE) I'm trying to get as much as this done as I can before the movie comes out-

Alison: Lest we have another Simply Because on our hands.

:glares: ANYWAY. After I have Mark and Tara return from their Maui trip, I might have to skip a few months. Maybe March of 1997 (I want this to last one year, from June 1996-June 1997.), throwing in the Maui trip as a filler (one word: TEQUILA.) Partially because I DO want to start wrapping this up, but also, because I wanna have the end finished before seeing the movie.

Alison: And so she doesn't screw herself over and screw up this fic.

Um, here's the ACTUAL story now. This AN's getting a bit long.

"Oh my God." Maureen stretched in her bed. That was probably the best sex she had in a while. Benny was very good in bed. Was Alison crazy or what, just for leaving that hunk of man-

Slow down, Mo, her annoying little mind voice (which she choose to listen to on very rare occasions), remember what's happened in everything else you've dived into? Which was probably referring to Mo's string of ex's. While all those may have seemed like complete disasters anyone else (and, okay, to maybe most of those ex's as well), Maureen thought of herself as being quite the successful paramour.

Okay, maybe Mark may have been right some of times he called her "a clingy bitch." (Yes. Maureen did let him get away with calling her that. Most of the time, anyway.)

Oh, God, what was she thinking, anyway?

"Well," a cracking, wheezy, old-for-her-age said, "It's been a long time since you came for help, Michela."

"Maamii..." Mimi whined, flopping on an empty hospital bed (as best as she could, now that she was showing), "I don't know why I stay with him all the time."

"Feh. You said this hasn't been the first time you've fought?" Mami shook her head. "Roger is a cabron, he's stupid, but he's loyal, querida."

"Define loyal, okay, Mami?"

"He's stayed with you even with that disease you have, no? Unlike a ungrateful bastard who leaves you for another woman, and Jesu Christo, you and I have enough of those men."

Mimi stared at her mother. "But you and Curtis..." No, don't bring up him. There were very few things that Mimi would compare her life to Mami's- Curtis not being on of them. "Oh, Mami, trust me it's not that. It's not that at all."

Collins put the "Out Causing Societal Destruction-Be Back In:" (a more, seemingly appropriate gift-giving attempt of Roger and Mark's, and one that Collins actually found amusing), and locked his office door behind him. His classes were finished for the day, not to mention, the aspiring computer hackers and couch potatoes weren't that annoying.

Just because anything else is good, he thought, doesn't mean it is a good day. At this moment, Collins was headed down the street to pick something up, even though Dave had offered, quite extensively.

The door beeped as he went through and headed straight toward the back. "Hey, Professor Collins!" A kid in his Advanced Computer Sciences class was behind the counter, with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Whassup?"

Collins was not one to be flustered. Of course, he wasn't flustered at that moment, but still maybe a little embarrassedfrom the "Whassup?" "The usual, Will," he said, surrendering his prescription refill receipt. Don't think about it. Collins absent-mindedly stared at the condoms in front of him, wondering if Extra Ribbed for HER Pleasure would work with guys as well.

"Prof, I've got some good news and bad news," Will's voice broke Collins's (very weird for him) train of thought, "Good news is your refill's still good."

"And my bad news is...?"

Will tossed the bag of AZT bottles, which Collins almost dropped (he had never really that great at hand-eye coordination skills), and said, "It'll be a while before your next one."

Bel shoved the four-fifty into the Starbucks guy's hands. God, she was never this pissed with Curtis (well, maybe save four or five times). Paul was on smack? And said smack was hiding out in her toliet seat? Oh God, she could be arrested for possession. Or even Meems or Roger...

Especially since Roger was probably known as a user. Well, Bel didn't know that. But she had heard he went to rehab, which meant somewhere in the system, Roger must have been put down as a drug addict and-

Am I plotting against my sister's boyfriend? She stopped dead in the sidewalk, people jostling her as they went by. As much as she never liked Roger, that never necessarily meant that Bel would actually accuse Roger of anything.

But he DID blame you and Mimi for them, remember that? This was entirely true, for one thing. But, did it constitute taking revenge?

Maybe... Bel sighed and continued down the street, sipping her mocha.

Roger looked nervously over his shoulder as he wove through the St. Mark's Place vendors. He really didn't want to have to do this, but given the circumstances, he was pretty much forced too.

"Well, well, well. Welcome back, Lover Boy." Oh goodie. Just the scumbag he was looking for. "I suppose you ain't looking for some good fix, huh?"

"I told you, I'm through with that shit. For good."

The Man gave his standard brown-stained grin. "So what happened to my shit, huh? You didn't flush it all away, did ya?" Silence from Roger. "Shit. Oh shit! You fucking did, didn't ya?"

"What do you think?" The Man kicked a trash bag. "Look, dude, I didn't want it laying around, okay? I just-"

"It ain't about the shit!"

"Then why are you pissed at me!"

"Tough Guy owed me money! He says to me, that he's got the fucking great shit from some dude he knows in Tribeca, he's just stashing at some girlie's place."

Roger turned this over in his head. "So, wait, you're saying this 'Tough Guy' knows Mimi?"

"Nah, it's Sweetheart he's shacking up with." The Man kicked the bag again. "Dirty fucking double-crosser..."

"Whoa, what- did you ever deal to Bel? Tell the truth here."

He sneered at Roger. "Why should I, Lover Boy? You a narc now?"

Roger leaned in closer. "Because I will fucking kick your ass from here all the way to Avenue A if you don't start giving me some answers here."

The Man looked at Roger and then downwards. "Alright. This is what I got..."

"Well, what do you think?"

He laughed as they watched the former tight-knit group started going their separate ways. "Oh, they'll get it eventually. But should I-?"

"You know what happened last time."

"Hmm. Good point there. Perhaps these guys do need a little nudge. Well, Rog and the Marquez sisters. But I think a visit to Miss Mo is in order as well..."

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself, girlfriend!"

PS: Oooh, look who's here!

Angel: Hi honey. Congrats on the fic hitting 30 chapters. -

Thank you very much, Angel. I must also comment on your totally fabulous self on celluloid.

Angel: It does look good, doesn't it? Only...why did Adam Pascal shave his gorgeous locks off? He looked good!

...don't ask me...(is slightly disturbed by that question)

Angel:(:pats:) It'll be okay. Anyway, remember to review! Until next time!