Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Yup, here it is, Chapter Five. I know, I know, Mark didn't eat the snow in this chapter either. Next chapter, I promise, cross my heart and hope to die! In this chapter Roger demonstrates his secret agent moves… sorta. Not a very graceful secret agent is he.

---

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Roger was just vaguely aware of the incessant noise that broke through the hazy atmosphere of fading sickness and sexual euphoria. With Mimi's hands clasped around his warm, bare body, he searched the room with his eyes for the source of the beeping, not wanting to disturb her. His gaze finally fell upon his AZT beeper, which sat on his bedside table, just challenging him to defy it. Beep. Beep.

With a groan, Roger reached over and snatched the device up, pressing the button that would silence it. Slamming it unnecessarily fiercely back against the crate, he withdrew his arm back into the warmth of his and Mimi's cocoon of blankets. No sooner did his hand find its way back to its resting spot on Mimi's exposed breast than the beeping decided to start up again. Beep. Beep.

Suppressing a moan of agitation, Roger reached out clumsily again for the AZT beeper and pressed the button a little harder this time, then dropped it to the floor instead of returning it to its regular spot. He then laid flat on his back, his hands folded over his chest, too awake and aggravated by now to nestle back into Mimi. But after a while he felt the foggy feeling of sleepiness take over again, and he allowed his eyes to close as he pressed his head against Mimi, his lips brushing past her bare chest...

Beep.

Throwing his arm over the side of his mattress, Roger scooped the beeper off the floor and flung it at the wall with a snarl. He didn't even realize what he had done until the poor thing broke into three pieces and fell defeatedly to the floor, and even then, just barely awake, he didn't care. Victorious, he fell back into his pillow with a satisfied look on his face, closing his eyes again. But wouldn't you know it? Beep. Beep.

"What the fuuuck," Roger whined, sounding more helpless than angry, clasping the pillow around his ears as if this would make the noise cease; however, the distinctive beeping still reached his ears, seeping through the thin fabric of his pillow.

He sat up for what felt like the umteempth time and looked around the room, inspecting every little object in the vicinity capable of producing such a sound. Beep, dammit, he challenged. Come on, stop hiding. He felt as though he was playing Marco Polo with an inanimate object. And though his fever was dwindling, he was still delirious enough to feel compelled to blurt out, "Marco?"

Beep.

Tormented eyes turned hopeful as they darted to the other side of the room. The sound was coming from Mimi's side of the bed and he gazed past her sleeping figure, looking for the object that had been tirelessly harassing him ever since he woke up. Perhaps it was her beeper? Disregarding the rejuvenated lust that seized his body as he leaned over Mimi's naked body, he plucked her AZT beeper from the crate on her side and examined it. It wasn't hers either. The AZT timer almost went the way of Roger's before he remembered that it didn't belong to him and placed it gently back down.

What could possibly be making such a noise?

Beep! Beep!

Now that he was arched over Mimi the sound seemed to be growing in volume. Holding himself over her with both his hands gripping the edge of the mattress, Roger peered underneath the bed, careful not to let himself fall on top of her. His hair fell in front of his face, obstructing his vision and tickling his nose. "Ah… achoo!"

The sneeze was so forceful and unexpected that he tumbled off the bed, sprawling to the floor and laying there, stunned. Mimi made a little noise and Roger clasped his hands over his mouth, watching her as she snuggled deeper into the mattress, vanishing beneath the covers. Slowly he let out the breath he had been holding in, leaning forward very slowly, each move cautious and calculated.

He saw an odd mechanism underneath their bed and abandoned his tentativeness to grab for it. It was a walkie-talkie, and now that it was in his possession it sounded a congratulatory beep. The beeping was much louder now that the device was out in the open, and Roger quickly stuffed it into the pocket of the nearest jacket to muffle the sound. Slipping on some boxers and a pair of raggedy jeans, Roger dragged the jacket out of the room, walking on his tiptoes and closing the door behind him.

Once he had reached the safety of the main room, Roger pulled the walkie-talkie out and slipped on the jacket. His eyes speculated the series of buttons the walkie-talkie sported before spotting a large rectangular button on the side of the device. Pressing it, he lifted the walkie-talkie gingerly to his mouth and spoke in an unsure tone. "… Collins?"

Slipping his thumb off the button, he awaited a reply, his ear pressed against the speaker as he made his way over to the windowsill. Leaping up, he nearly fell back down again when Collins's voice exploded into his ear. "Roger! Hey! Man, where are you?"

Peering out the window, Roger found that he could see the park from his position. There were small flecks that he assumed to be children, and among them much larger specks; he took the one decked out in rainbow attire to be Angel and beside that one, a figure of gray and white with a head of blonde hair. Roger's grip tightened involuntarily around the walkie-talkie; it was Mark. But where was Collins?

"Mimi insisted I stay home," Roger said quietly, his eyes scanning the park for a Collins speck.

Without a moment's delay Roger could hear Collins making the sound of a cracking whip over the walkie-talkie. Clutching the walkie-talkie even harder, he spat back. "Knock it off!" he snapped, then calmed down a little before adding in a smutty tone, "Besides… with what she was promising to do to me if I stayed, how could I refuse?"

Collins's low laughter came over the walkie-talkie before he spoke. "Look, man, I'm dying out here," Collins said desperately. "I'm a terrible liar and I don't think I can possibly give Mark a snow cone without laughing 'till I piss myself."

"Thank you for that image."

"Just get out here," Collins said in a hurried voice. "Look, I gotta go, Angel and Mark are coming this way. I need your help pronto."

And with that, the walkie-talkie fell silence. No more beeping. Roger was almost tempted to crawl back into his bed where it was warm with Mimi, but he was already too awake to even consider the idea. Stuffing the walkie-talkie into his pocket, Roger left the loft, ready to finally put Operation: Snow Cone into action.