Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of RENT. The song used in this chapter is by a local duo, David and Lucas.

Author's Notes: Well, here's more. I hope you enjoy it. This particular chapter starts another hint at Mark/Roger goodness. It also shows a bit more vulnerability in Roger. Thank you for all of the reviews.

Stuff inbold like this...you'll see what that means.

Italics are flashbacks.

"The world my friend, is a lot heavier today, than yesterday.

"I always thought there was a better way. So while you were sleeping,

"I ran away, I'm running away.

"Catch me if you can, oh catch me if you can.

"Catch me if you care anymore, catch me by the hand.

"Catch me 'cause I'm falling, you know I fell for you.

"Catch me if you care anymore, catch me if you want me too."

Mark just listened as Roger played his guitar and started singing. Roger didn't know that he was there, standing in the doorway of his room, filming him while he was playing. It was easy to get caught up in listening to Roger. His voice had a quality about it. It wasn't really like a rock god's voice, it was more sensitive than that. "What is that?" Mark found himself asking, announcing his presence without warning.

Roger abruptly stopped his playing. "Just something I've sort of been working on." He shrugged, with a bit of a grin on his face. "Nothing special."

"I think it sounds pretty good." Mark offered, just as much of a smile on his face. He was still filming when he stepped into the room a bit more. "Why don't you tell our viewers what inspired this lyrical masterpiece?"

"You mean you?" Roger teased.

Mark gave him a pointed look. "What's the song about Roger?"

"I was just thinking about when I went to Santa Fe."

Mark's next question was sort of sensitive. He hesitated for a moment. "So it's about Mimi…" He trailed off at the look on Roger's face.

"No, not really." Roger shrugged again. His face was darker now, almost surely brought on by the topic. "Actually…it's mostly about you." This admission was a quiet one, and he almost looked away. But that would have been too much like Mark for him.

"Me?" Mark's camera arm drifted down to his side. "What do you mean me?"

"Just sit and listen to the rest of the song." Roger gestured. "Once you hear it, it's kind of self explanatory." Mark did as told, sitting on the bed next to Roger, and then Roger started playing again.

"Remember where, the place we could only find, with bare feet and eyes closed

"That's where you'll find me…"

Roger was still singing, but Mark suddenly stopped listening. He could see Roger, who had his eyes closed as he played, and he could see that his mouth was still moving. But instead of Roger he heard a different voice. A happy voice, that had a smile in it's tone. "Take a leap of faith, Honey."

Mark snapped back to the room. "Roger." He interrupted, quietly.

"What?" He stopped playing.

And then Mark just leaned over and kissed Roger.

"Mark!"

Mark rolled over in his twisted sheets, groaning at the sudden noise. It had been one month since everything had come out with Roger. One month of getting used to the fact that he was going to die. One month of getting over the trauma of his stepfather. He was close, but not there yet. Only Collins and Roger knew of either of these facts… the others just knew that there had been a turnaround with him, and that something was still a little off with their friend. They were accepting it all in any case.

One month of his new job at the dilapidated, small theater just outside of Alphabet City. It only had one showing room, but the owner was in desperate need of someone that knew how to run the projector. The movies were only half decent, bordering on bad most of the time, and theater rarely got even half filled. But despite this the pay was actually decent. It would cover both of the bohemian's medication, with leftover cash for everything else. The other plus of this job was that his boss was a motherly woman, who genuinely cared, and let him use the theater's equipment to work on his own things. It was probably the best job that he could have hoped to find.

One month of everyone else, being basically the same. Benny had kept his word, and Rent was still not being charged. Maureen and Joanne were fighting every other week, but always managing to reconcile. Collins was in and out of their lives, but instead of showing up every few months, it was every few days. Everything had caused him to be more concerned for his friends, and he was once more growing closer to them. And Roger was starting really finish songs. They were all somewhat depressing and moody, but that was Roger for you.

"Mark!"

The infuriating voice tried again. Mark lazily opened one eye and read the cartoon faced alarm clock by his bed. It was nine. In the morning. On a Saturday. And Roger was trying to make him get up. He sighed. If Roger was awake it must have been important. "What?" He didn't reach for his glasses.

"There's something furry on my face!" Roger called back in a voice that was almost whiny and childlike.

Mark rolled back over, shoving his face into his pillow. "If it's a mouse it's your turn to get rid of it." He wished that he hadn't woken up. The was starting to enter his mind. With little reluctance he pushed towards the back of his mind. He had dreams like that once in awhile, and every time that he woke up from one it would just be pushed to the back of his mind and forgotten.

"It's bigger than a mouse." Roger tried again. "And it's licking my hair."

Mark rolled over again and reached blindly for his glasses. "Just pick it up off your face."

"I don't want to touch I when it's alive."

He placed the glasses on his face. Now he was awake. "I'll be right there." Mark got out of bed and grabbed his camera, doing a slow morning walk over to Roger's room. "February 10th, 9:04 AM Eastern Standard Time. It appears that some rodent has snuck into the loft again, and has decided that Roger's face was comfortable and tasty." Mark didn't stop until he reached Roger's room, opened the door and took the scene in. There was a small animal standing on Roger's head, its own head bent down and licking Roger's unruly bed hair. And then Mark laughed. "Roger, it's just a kitten."

"I don't care what it is, just get it off me."

Mark laughed again and put his camera down. "Hey there." He spoke to the tiny cat as he picked it up. The cat was tiny and so skinny that he could feel its ribs. It had smooth black fur, and looked up at him with bright green eyes. "Aren't you cute." He smiled at the cat.

Roger sat up, rubbed his face, and then gave Mark a look. "It tried to eat me."

"Well it's half starved." Mark used his free hand to scratch the cat's ears. "I'm going to go find it something to eat."

"What do we have that cats eat?"

"Milk." Mark turned to leave the room.

Roger started out after him. "Since when do we have milk?"

"Since I went shopping."

"Oh." He paused glancing around. "And you're going to give it to that thing?"

"It's not a thing. It's a kitten."

"It looks like an overgrown rat."

Sometime later, Roger was sitting on the couch with his guitar, working on something where the chords were never sounding right. Mark was in one of the chairs, and the kitten was in his lap. Most of his day had been spent with this cat. "Our little friend here is a girl, she's been declawed, and I think that this scar means that she's been fixed." He announced.

"Your little friend." Roger corrected quickly. "That thing is your little friend."

"She likes you." Mark pointed out. "I think she must have run away from her home or something. Do you think that we can--."

"No." Roger didn't look away from his work.

"You don't even know what I was going to ask." Mark stopped scratching the cat's ears for a moment.

"Yeah I do. You want to keep it."

"Her." Mark corrected. "I want to keep her. Now that I'm working we have the money and it's not like a dog. She's independent."

"Independent enough to shred everything in this place."

"She can't, she doesn't have claws. Besides…you would never do that would you?" Mark picked up the cat as he spoke so it was looking him in the eye.

Roger looked over. Mark was genuinely smiling. He hadn't seen that in a while. Mark was surely dealing with everything better than Roger knew he would have been, but he still hadn't seen a happy smile on Mark's face in a long time. But…it was a cat. Roger didn't really love animals, and it was kind of hard for him to picture one in the loft. A cat, getting it's fur all over his clothes. But the cat was making Mark happy, and Roger missed seeing that. He sighed. "Happy Birthday."

"What?" Mark lowered the kitten back into his lap.

"Isn't your birthday in a few days?"

"Four." Mark elaborated. He was a Valentine's baby.

"Well, happy birthday. You've got yourself a cat." For Roger it almost seemed to touching. "Just keep her out of my room." He added this for good measure.

"Thanks."

"Whatever." Roger went back to his playing and it was silent until his chord went sour again. His playing morphed into Musetta's Waltz.

Mark watched as the kitten left his lap and sauntered over to the couch, and leapt onto it. Roger didn't take notice of this until the kitten attempted to climb on his shoulder. "What is she doing?" He pried her off of his shoulder and put her on couch before starting to play the waltz again. And the cat tried climbing again. "Mark, what is this cat doing?"

Mark had grabbed his camera. "You started playing that and she went right over to you."

"Well tell her to stop."

"She's a cat. You can't just tell her to stop. Cats do whatever, whenever they want."

"Sounds like Maureen."

There's that. More coming very soon. Please review, and tell me what you think.