Disclaimer: I do not own the RENT characters. That is all.

Auth Note: This was written for Leany, 'cause I was bored and she gave me prompts. I LOVE YOU, LEANY!

"Why are we here again?" Maureen asked as she idly paged through a battered copy of Much Ado About Nothing.

"We're here because used bookstores are fun!" April replied excitedly. She let out a little squeak and pulled an old, stained hardback off one of the shelves. "Oh my god, this is out of print!" Maureen laughed and put Shakespeare down.

"April, you are far too easily entertained."

"I'm not!" April protested, and opened the book of poetry she was holding. "It's just so interesting, wondering what the stories are behind all these books." Maureen raised an eyebrow.

"They have... stories behind them." she repeated doubtfully. April nodded. "How exactly do you figure that?"

"Well... take this book, for example." she said, holding it out. "The inscription." Maureen leaned over and read.

To my darling Annabelle,
In recognition of many years of companionship, may this day be as blissfully happy as you've always dreamed.
Yours,
Harold
February 17, 1942

"What about it?" Maureen glanced up at her. April sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Think about it, Maur!" April insisted. "Who's Annabelle? What is her relationship to Harold? What does he mean by 'many years of companionship'? Are they married, or in love, or just friends? Maybe siblings? What was so special about February 17, 1942, and why had Annabelle been dreaming of it?" She looked down at the book with a thoughtful expression on her face. Maureen just stared at her friend - she would never understand the way April's mind worked, and why she would be so curious about these things. But that was, she had to admit, one of April's charms.

"You're something else, 'Ril." she smiled and shook her head. April looked up and grinned at her.

"Thanks, so're you!" she bounced a little and took one last look at the book. "I'm gonna buy this." she said after a moment. "I could write a good story around this."

Twenty minutes later, the girls were wandering through Central Park and discussing the merits of different types of footwear. How they got on that subject, neither of them could remember, but they were discussing it rather energetically.

"No, I see what you mean, but the point is that flip flops are not the same as Birkenstocks!" April insisted. Maureen rolled her eyes.

"But they're both. Sandals." she shook her head. "Anyway, boots are the best, so it doesn't matter about your flip flops vs. Birkenstocks argument."

"Boots?" April laughed. "Where'd you come up with that?" Maureen just smiled and pointed to the carousel, which they were passing. Every young woman, mothers or not, was wearing boots of various styles... except for one lone girl, laughing next to what had to have been her boyfriend, happy and in love and wearing a pair of Converse All Stars. April smiled softly at them when they came around again.

"I think it really doesn't matter." she said suddenly. "Different shoes are better for different people. You're good for boots. I'm good for sandals, or no shoes. That girl's good for sneakers." she wrapped an arm around Maureen's waist and hugged her. "Like different people are good for each other. Meant for each other."

"Like soul mates?" Maureen asked curiously.

"Yeah." April nodded. There was a long pause. "But not necessarily romantic."

"Yeah." The girls stood there for a moment, then turned to go. There was nothing but comfortable silence between them all the way home.