A/N: This chapter containseveryone's favorite scene in ages, sowe ask you to enjoy it. Reviews are lovely things.

Chapter Six

Maureen was enjoying the movie, but about half an hour into it she realized that she was much more interested in what was going on next to her and how cute Mark looked when he was engrossed in a film. Taken off-guard by the revelation, she didn't notice that she had stopped paying attention to the movie and was staring at Mark.

Lighting. Direction. Production. That was what was going through Mark's mind. If they would have moved the light just an INCH over...it would have caught her hair better… Mark rubbed the back of his neck. He had the feeling he was being watched.
He glanced at Maureen and saw her looking at him. He smiled at her and took her hand again. He meant nothing by it. Or did he? Mark sure as hell didn't know. He leaned toward her.
"You know something? If Drew Whatsherfinger had dark hair, she would have looked better in this movie. Like yours," he said. He meant as a compliment, and as a fact. A dark-haired girl would have done better.

Maureen was pleased, not only by Mark's compliment to her but by the fact that she could still make him blush. She felt special with him beside her, holding her hand. Mark turned his attention back to the film, but he could feel the back of his neck and ears turning red knowing that Maureen was staring at him. He pretended he didn't notice, and since it was dark in here maybe she wouldn't see it. Maybe…he meant more to her than she let on. Not like they were getting back together or anything, but it's just nice to know that she cared once/still did.
The film progressed, and Mark found that he had to physically remove his hand from hers. He had to think about it too; it was a step process: (1) Let go (the first step is always the hardest). (2) Set hand in lap. He had to do it that way because he didn't want to let go.

Maureen felt her smile falter a bit when he pulled his hand away. The cold air of the theater hit her once warm hand and made her shiver. Why did she suddenly feel so cold? She reached over and took Mark's hand again, longing for that warm feeling to return. Alright, then. Mark took her hand again in his own and smiled despite himself. The movie hit the end credits and he stretched.
"So, did you like that movie?" he asked, taking her hand again. "You picked it out, after all."
Mark was struck with the strongest (and strangest) urge to kiss her right there. Just to do it; no commitment, no hidden meaning, just a kiss. What would it hurt? Well, the fact that she was his EX-girlfriend should have been a neon sign right there that she was hands off, but reasonably, he could say she kissed him first. It was a year ago, so that really didn't hold much water, but it was the point, isn't it? Besides, he wouldn't mean anything by it, so it wouldn't be like he was trying to steal her back or something. And he needed something to get my mind off of the fact that Roger thought he was cheating with Mimi...
Mark was momentarily lost in this train of thought, whatever Maureen said not computing; just seeing her mouth moving was all he could focus on.

Maureen smiled, "I liked the movie a lot. You know, I've never really liked Adam Sandler but I thought it was cute." Truth be told, Maureen hadn't paid much attention to the movie. "What do you think?" That was when she noticed Mark had that far-off look in his eyes that he always got when he was deep in thought. Maureen moved closer to him, waving her hand in front of his face. "Mark? Hello, Earth to Mark!"

"Reporting," he said and smiled. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" He was still holding her hand, but that was fine. The clean-up guy was giving them a weird look, but who cared? They paid to be in here, they were staying. "I thought it was okay--a bunch of things I would have changed, though." Mark said, assuming the question.

Maureen gave his hand a squeeze. This was...nice. Odd, yes—but nice. "I don't know about you, but I'm about ready for that drink now."

"Yeah, that sounds good." They got up, and walked out of the theater together, the clean-up guy shooting them a "thank God!" look as they left, because now he could actually do his job.
They walked towards the door, and he held it open for her.

Maureen walked through the door out into the cold night air. She shivered a little bit as she walked in the direction she knew the nearest bar was. "Do you think Roger ever went back to the loft?"

If anything could kill Mark's momentary bliss, it was the reminder of Roger and his accusations. He had still beencontemplating kissing Maureen, but that sudden reminder had driven that thought from his mind. Mark sighed, a little annoyed that it was brought up again. He was hoping to avoid talking about that at all costs, but since Maureen mentioned it, hecouldn't just ignore the topic all together.
"I don't know," he said after a moment. "And right now I don't care. Let him do what he's going to do; I'll deal with him and his issues later." He opened the door the bar once they got to it. "I really don't know what's gotten into him lately."

Maureen bit back a particularly nasty comment about Benny she was dying to make and instead just shrugged. "I don't know," she replied, sliding onto a bar stool. She glanced around the bar. "Hey, didn't we get kicked out of here once?"

Mark looked around. "No, that was a different place." He sat down next to her. He ordered something with no booze in it--the last thing he needed was to get drunk and then deal with a violently angry Roger. He sighed.
"So, how's life with you and Joanne?" he asked conversationally, trying to get the topic off of Roger and Mimi.

Maureen sighed, "What life? She's always too busy with work to pay attention to me. I don't even know if we're still together, after that fight we had earlier." She sent a flirtatious look at the bartender before she turned her face into a pout and said loudly, "I wish I could get an apple martini, but I don't have any cash on me." A few seconds later, there was an apple martini sitting on the bar in front of her and she turned back to Mark. "She doesn't trust me, anyway. Anytime I even look at another girl, she gets all pissy."

I wish I had that problem, Mark thought.
"Sorry to hear the love shack's not doing so hot." he said. He hoped it sounded sincere. Really, he wanted Maureen to be happy. With him would be nice, but otherwise would have to do. As long as she's happy. However, he and Joanne had had this talk before: Maureen was not trustable. What can you do?
"Well, still single." Mark said, as if that wasn't obvious. He wasn't trying to hint anything to Maureen, but she more than likely took it as such. He was just trying to end that void hanging. Okay, so maybe their love life wasn't the BEST turn-around of a conversation starter. He took a drink of water.

For a brief moment, Maureen's ever-constant guard was down. "I just wish that she would believe I've changed. Because I really have been trying...well, except for tonight when I was trying to make her jealous, but that doesn't count. I didn't mean to hurt anyone, Mark."

"For you I would say don't try to make her jealous. If you do that, she'll think you're up to the same old games again. Not that I know much on the topic, but that's my advice for you. And don't tell me how much you've changed, tell her. She's the one that needs to hear it. Trust me honey, for someone on the other end of your relationship: We LIKE to hear that kind of thing." Or at least, I did. "I know you don't mean to hurt anyone, baby, I know that. But sometimes we don't mean for things to happen and they do anyway."

And quickly the wall between Maureen and the outside world was back up. "We need to find you a nice girl, Marky. I mean, really, you aren't a bad catch."

"Screw nice girls. You were a nice girl, and look where that got me," Mark hoped he didn't sound bitter, but it was a true fact. "Besides, 'nice girls' are no fun." I shot her a small smile, so she could see I wasn't angry with her.
He let the silence fall for a moment before he turned to her.
"Maureen, I really just want to know: why?"

Maureen looked at Mark closely. She never realized how much she had hurt him. But she was confused. "Why what?"

"Why did you leave?" Mark finished the rest of the sentence. He thought it was perfectly clear what he was asking. "I'm not going to get all depressed or anything, I'm just wondering (in all seriousness) why you left. I mean, you cheated on me TONS of times before--don't give me that look, I know you have. But why did you leave actually?"
He'd wanted to know for a while why. What made that last time so different?

Maureen looked away from him. She couldn't look him in the eyes and tell him. In fact, as she pondered his question, she didn't know what the answer was. Why had she left Mark? Why had she cheated on him time and time again? Why had she hurt him so badly when there was a time that she actually thought...And suddenly it dawned on her. "I was afraid." Maureen finally looked back up at him. "I know, it's a cliché answer. But it's the truth." And Maureen knew it was. Maureen Johnson was afraid of love. Her father and her mother had been in love, but that didn't stop him from running off with his secretary. Her sister and her brother-in-law were in love, but that didn't stop him from becoming an abusive alcoholic. "I had to hurt you before you could hurt me."

That hurt Mark more than the fact that she had left him. Mark cupped Maureen's cheek gently in his hand.
"Maureen, look at me." he said. "I would never, EVER hurt you. You know that. I would do anything to protect you." He looked at her. That overwhelming urge to kiss her came up again. This time, he didn't waste time.
Mark kissed her. "I love you still, Maureen. I just want you to be happy. Even if--" Mark had to force these next words out: they were true, but he didn't like them. "Even if it IS with Joanne." He returned his attention back to his water glass. She honestly believed that he would hurt her? What was she, nuts?

Maureen sat on her barstool, almost in a state of shock. Mark had kissed her. Not only that, but she had wanted him to. She knew that Mark was telling her the truth when he said he wouldn't hurt her. She had always known that, deep down. She just never let herself believe it. Mark had never hurt her, even when she had broken his heart. She didn't know what caused her next action, whether it was her heart or the several martinis she had downed since they arrived at the bar or a combination of the two, but before she realized what was happening Maureen had leaned forward and kissed Mark again.

Mark let her.
I'm dreaming this, I've got to be dreaming this… he thought. He pulled away from her and shook his head.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath. He still wanted Maureen to come crawling back to him, but if she was still dating Joanne...
"Nothing is going to happen if you are still dating Joanne, Maureen," he said. "You know I'm not a cheater." He sighed. "It's not that I don't want you, because you know I do, but it's not right. If you're dating Joanne, then you're dating Joanne, and that's that." He hoped against hope that he sounded final, but he knew he probably didn't. He didn't want push to lead to shove and do something he ended up regretting.

Much to her own horror, Maureen began to cry- big alligator tears falling from her eyes. She was near hysterics, earning quite a few stares from other patrons of the bar. "Oh god, Mark, what am I doing? I'm a horrible girlfriend! I don't even know if I'm still with Joanne and here I am...I'm so sorry Mark." Maureen tried to stop the tears from falling- she hated crying, especially in front of other people. But her bottled up emotions were too big a match for her. So, she did one of the things she was good at. She got up and ran from the bar.

"SHIT!" Mark swore loudly. Everyone was staring at him like HE had made her cry. "I didn't do it!" he said stupidly before bolting after Maureen.
"HEY! Are you going to pay for that?" the bartender asked.
"It was glass of water! Bill me at my funeral!" Mark snapped back before following Maureen out into the street. He caught up with her relatively quickly and took her arm lightly.
"Maureen..." he said. Mark personally did not believe that male chivalry was dead. He was the kind of guy that held open doors for girls (or slammed them in their faces), pulled out chairs, that sort of thing. If there was one thing Mark did not like, it was a woman crying. Almost naturally, Mark pulled Maureen in his arms.
"Don't cry honey, please don't cry." he said, rocking her to try to calm her down. He wondered if she could hear his heart beating, but scratched that off as it didn't matter. "Look, I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere, just calm down. It's just me, you don't have anything to be ashamed of."

Maureen weakly tried to pull away from him but eventually just buried her face into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mark. I'm so sorry." She just kept saying it, over and over. She was sorry for hurting him, for hurting Joanne, for every time she'd made them wait up for her when she was out cheating. Finally, the tears subsided and left Maureen breathing heavily. She pulled away slightly, enough to look at Mark but not so far as to really pull away from him. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, sure that she had trails of mascara running down her cheeks. "Jesus, I must look great," she said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood.

Mark just held her still. He didn't really want to let her go (literally and figuratively), but he knew he had to. Eventually. But not right now.
"Actually, I think you do," Mark said honestly. "I mean, minus your make-up smearing and everything." He took his hand and wiped her cheek. "I've seen you look much worse." He just took all of her in. He locked this in his mind like a film-still. He didn't want to lose it.
"Well, you know you can always come back to my place," he said. "If you don't want go back home. I'm not going to kick you out." It wasn't an offer for sex, but of companionship. Not of an affair, but of an intimate friendship.
Though Mark wouldn't say no to sex. Okay, so he would. If Maureen was with someone else, anyway.

Maureen nodded, collecting herself. "I think I will. I mean, Joanne kicked me out this morning anyway. I thought she would have taken it back by now but...well, I haven't heard from her since the Life and we weren't on the best terms then." Now that Maureen had expressed her regret and sorrow, a new feeling was taking over that Maureen was quite familiar with. Anger. She was angry at Joanne for their fight earlier, she was angry at Benny for being an insufferable asshole, she was angry at Roger for jumping to conclusions, she was angry at Mimi for going back to the drug dealer and she was angry at herself for so many things. But not Mark. Maureen could never become really angry with Mark. She shivered, the night air becoming colder. "Let's head back to the loft. This night air is doing nothing for my complexion." She began walking, but paused for a moment to turn and look at Mark. "Mark...thanks."

"For what?" Mark asked, walking in stride with her. He noticed her shivering, but remembered he left his scarf at the house. If he hadn't he would have offered it to her. Oh well. He took her hand in his to slow down her pace before she took off. Mark had seen Maureen like this: trying to keep something inside and sometimes literally running away.
"I didn't do anything," Mark said, trying to keep the conversation light. "Except get us kicked out of another bar," he added lightly.

Maureen smiled a little bit. "Well, we both knew that it was bound to happen at some point. I mean, how many bars are we actually allowed back into?" She thought for a moment before glancing at him with a mischievous look on her face. "I mean, the only reason we haven't been kicked out of the Life is because of your loverboy waiter."

"That's ruling out the fact that the people that own the place are just cool people," I said. "Steve loves me...isn't it sick?" Mark said with a grin. "I swear, if I confessed my undying love to him, he'd marry me."
He held open the door. Once they got into the loft, he looked and found no sign of Roger. All the better at the moment.

"Hold on a sec," Mark said, going into his room. He pulled out one of the two blankets on his bed and a pillow. He came out and set them on the couch. "You know how it goes. You can sleep in my room," he said, pointing toward the door. He looked at the couch. Floor might be better, but all the difference that would make. He wasn't going to let Maureen sleep out here. He'd be fine with sharing his bed with her, but that would look so bad, and considering he was on the outs with his best friend for being a "cheater," that would just add to the flare.

Mimi was in a half-sleep. She'd found that the drugs were keeping her up more than she wanted them to. And she was lonely. And being really upset, livid and lonely wasn't a good combination for her right now.
She hadn't heard Roger come home, and a part of her was getting worried. He hadn't been back on drugs for at least a year and God only knows what they'd end up doing to him and how he'd react. A knot formed in her stomach and suddenly a wave of regret, yes, regret, swept over her. She shouldn't have flipped out on him. She just shouldn't have. She should have been sensible and she should have talked it out with him, but she didn't. Instead she had let her hot-headedness get in the way and she had driven him away even farther than he already was.
She heard the door open with a loud squeak and then some footsteps in the hallway. Mimi slowly sat up, feeling slightly lightheaded. Making her way to the door, silently hoped that it was Roger who was coming home, she peeked her head out and saw Mark and Maureen. That was a little odd. She slowly came out of her room, gripping onto the walls as she made her way towards the two.

"Hey guys,"she said before allowing herself to fall against the wall. "No sign of Roger, huh?" Mimi tried to hide the concern in her voice, but it didn't seem to work. She noticed the blanket in Mark's hand and frowned a little before looking at Maureen.
Maureen smiled a little when she saw Mimi. "Hey. No, I don't think he's back yet." Maureen could tell that Mimi was getting worried and she wanted to say something that might help, but Maureen had never been one to know what words might be comforting in this sort of situation.
"You spending the night?" Mimi asked Maureen.

"Yeah, I needed someplace to stay for the night." Maureen didn't elaborate on it. God knows Mimi had enough on her plate at the moment; she didn't need to hear about Maureen's issues with Joanne.

Mimi nodded a little.
"Well, you can take my bed. I'm going to find Roger."
Mimi pushed herself from the wall and made her way over to a chair where she had thrown her coat. She pulled it on and searched around for her scarf.

"Mimi, you're not going anywhere," Mark said. She didn't look like she could walk, let alone actually look for anything. "You don't look so good. You crash. I'll hunt for Roger. You get some sleep. Everything will be fine."
He didn't want to, but now he was bound by his word to do so. He just didn't know when he was going to go looking for him. Maybe he would spend a bit of time tonight, but nothing too extensive. He'd try all of Roger's old run-away spots, including up in Scarsdale.
He noticed Mimi looking around. He instinctively reached for his scarf. It wasn't around his neck; he saw it by the door. "If you're cold, you can just wear my scarf," he said, gesturing. He turned and looked back at Maureen.
"Go crash in my room if you're tired, honey," he said to her. "Not much has changed since you've last been in there." Which was true.

Mimi couldn't really argue with Mark on that one. She wasn't exactly in the best of conditions to be trying to find anyone. She'd probably end up collapsing in some alley and spending the night there.
She went over to the window and sat down on the ledge, propping herself up against the wall. She knew she wouldn't be getting much sleep, so if she at least was on Roger-watch from the window it would make her feel a little better.
"Oh Mark," she remembered as she glanced at the answering machine. "That Buzzline chick called for you again."

Mark looked at the machine and saw the light flashing.

Alexi Darling sat on a poufy stool in the dressing room of her second-rate tabloid show, Buzzline, having been slathered in makeup. Her black hair was in a ridiculous new style, her well-manicured nails poised at the ready on a sleek cell phone. She squinted through copious amounts of mascara at the slip of paper in her hand and punched in the telephone number on it. She held the phone to her ear and waited as it rang itself out.
"Speeeak..." said the two men on the answering machine.
He hasn't changed his awful machine yet? Alexi wondered in the split second before the beep. She spoke in an unbelievably annoying uptalk.
"Mark COhen? Alexi DARling from BUZZline. We've got big PLAAns to improve the SHOWw, kerchingkerCHIing, and we need CAMeras, I was at the screening of your MOvie, A-Oone, we LOVed it here at BUZZline, I'll be in the AREa a WEEK from now, give me a CAll and we can set up a MEEting, or you can E-mail me darlingaLEXi NEWscom DOT net, and here are the PHONE numbers..."
She rattled off all her various phone numbers. "And be sure to call me BAack, don't want to miss an opporTUNity, knock-KNOock, kerchingkerCHIing..." She clicked the phone shut. And he'd better call back, too, she thought. Who could refuse an offer with that many kerchingkerCHIings?

Mark sighed.
"I told her I quit. She doesn't get it, does she?" But he made a mental note to call her back. Eventually.

"Maureen, night," he said, kissing her lightly on the cheek. A "just friends" type of thing. He gave Mimi a hug.
"Don't worry, Mims. We'll find him," he said. He sighed and headed toward the door. Marl really didn't want to talk to Roger right now, but if it would bring peace to the group, then he was more than willing to do so.

"Anything else anybody needs before I head out?"

Mimi silently shook her head as she returned her gaze back to the street. The only thing she needed right now was to know that Roger was okay. Even if he was still mad at her, she just wanted to know that he'd survived...

Maureen shook her head too. Part of her wanted to tell Mark that she'd go out with him, but she knew that things weren't going to be all hunky-dory between Mark and Roger when Mark finally found him. She would just get in the way. The other part of her was surprised at herself for being so...well, almost level-headed. Maybe she really was changing. "Good luck, Mark."

"Thanks," Mark said before heading out the door. He stopped and sighed. Okay, Roger's old run-away places...