Title: March 18th
Author: Jen
Feedback: I love it like I love Rent! And trust me, that's a lot
Pairing: Angel/Collins
Word Count: 1359
Rating: PG, maybe PG-13 for talks of suicide and sex
Genre: A bit angsty, I'm sure, but leaves you with a bit of a good taste in your mouth
Summary: Angel celebrates a holiday with Collins
Notes: I'm horrible at leaving out words and spelling things wrong so forgive me for those. Written for LJ speedrent contest #12 and it won first place.
Special Thanks: None
Spoilers: None for Rent, but maybe a bit of foreshadowing
Warnings: Talks of suicide
Disclaimer: Angel and Collins (and the bit of Roger that's mentioned) and Rent are all from the mind of Jonathan Larson. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.

"Collins, Collins, wake up!" Angel said eagerly, lightly poking his lover in the side.

Tom Collins groaned and rolled over, grabbing Angel's hand. "Ang, baby, it's 5 o'clock in the morning, can't this wait?"

"No. Do you know what day it is?" Angel threaded his fingers with Collins', a small smile creeping over his face.

"Wednesday?" Collins sat up, giving his lover the benefit of the doubt that this would be worth waking up at the crack of dawn while NYU was on Spring Break.

"Technically, yes, but really, do you know what day it is?"

"Angel, what's this about?"

Angel sighed, crossed his legs, and covered them with the thick comforter Collins had bought for them on Valentine's Day, a small gift to keep Angel warm. His health had declined a bit recently, though you couldn't tell Angel that without risking a five inch heal to the head. "Today's March 18th, or D-Day."

Collins rubbed his eyes sleepily. "D-Day? What?"

Angel looked down at the blanket, playing with a loose strand; looking more vulnerable then Collins had ever seen him, even when he was being put through a variety of tests at the hospital. "D-Day. It's a holiday I made up a couple of years ago. Stands for a number of things, really. Discovery, death, drag." Angel chuckled, stealing a quick glance at his closet which currently held more female clothing then male. "Decision."

"Baby, I'm really tired. Can you explain this to me? What do you mean by...'death'?" Collins nearly choked on the word. He knew death was something they'd both have to deal with and it was beginning to look more and more like Angel would be the first to go, but he wasn't ready for it. Any mention of the word death, especially from Angel's mouth wrenched on Collins' heart like a vise.

"March 18th was the day I found out I was HIV positive, in an odd sense, the day I or rather the Angel everyone knew, died. Hence, death. I spent, hell, I don't even remember, months, locked up in my apartment, barely leaving, barely eating, knowing I was going to die soon. A year after I found out I decided something. Decision. I went out, filled my prescription and was going to take 'em all, kill myself."

"Ang..." Collins said, his voice cracking at the thought of his Angel, this Angel so full of life and love thinking of suicide. He couldn't imagine not meeting Angel, not having Angel in his life. "Baby..."

"I didn't, did I?" Angel leaned over and softly kissed Collins', lightly running his hand down his lover's smooth cheek. "I was walking down the street and I saw a woman being harassed by some punk kids. I helped her kick their asses. And if you think I'm a force in heels, you should see me out of street shoes. I can moved a tab bit quicker if I put my mind to it.."

Collins chuckled, choosing not to bring up the fights he had watched Angel put up whenever the word hospital was mentioned. "I bet you are, baby."

"Anyway, she thanked me and I noticed that, well, she wasn't exactly all that feminine. Cookie Delmar, my idol." Angel smiled brightly." I'd always thought about dressing in drag, you know, as a woman, but I'd always been afraid to do it, afraid people would judge me. She offered to buy me lunch and somehow just being around her, seeing her confidence in herself, not afraid to be who she was because, really, it doesn't matter what people think of you in the long run. You run into someone on the street and they give you a dirty look, you probably won't see them again. Better to let it roll off your back and just accept that's how they are. If a person doesn't like you simply because you're, technically speaking, a man in a dress, it's their loss. She made me discover something, I knew at that moment that I couldn't die, I had to live. I was meant for something more. I got AIDS for a reason and if I was meant to die of AIDS, that's what I would die of. So I decided something else, I decided to become the person I am today, the person you met in that alley, even if I wasn't all dolled up that day."

"You were still beautiful, Ang. My Angel of the first degree, remember?" Collins wrapped his arm around Angel's waist and kissed his temple. "So your friend, she helped you?"

Angel nodded. "Yeah, she did. Gave me my first outfit, taught me how to make tablecloths into skirts and the like. Make-up tips. And there you have it. I was me." He leaned against Collins and sighed contentedly.

"I wish I could find her, babe. And thank her for helping you." Collins tightened his grip on his lover, thinking, however irrationally, that if he let go, Angel would suddenly vanish.

"It was fate, Collins. I was meant to go out that day, to have those thoughts, and to met her. Just like I was meant to meet you." Angel leaned in softly pressed his lips to Collins'. "And I love you. Even if you have morning breath."

Collins lightly shoved Angel. "Well it is 5 am, Angel." He chuckled and leaned his forehead against Angel's. "And I love you too." He lightly ran his hand over his lover's soft, dark hair, realizing how much he preferred it to the wigs any day of the week. "So how does one celebrate D-Day?"

Angel practically leapt out of Collins' arms and flew over to the closet. "First, one, i.e., me, dresses in the finest dress I own." He dug through the closet and pulled out the desired outfit before returning to the bed, planting himself firmly in Collins' lap. "Second we go out and we have the time of our lives. Every year, I spend March 18th reflecting on that day, but focusing on the next one. I go out, I have fun with my friends. I don't make decisions based on fear anymore. You know that. So, let's go. Let's get Roger out of his funk. That boy needs a day too."

"At 5 in the morning?" Collins groaned, burying his face in Angel's neck, thinking his lover was crazy for being up at this hour.

Angel smiled. "No day but today, right? Come on, Collins. Please?" He batted his eyes, knowing Collins couldn't say no to him. "We'll have the best day ever, and I can almost guarantee the night will be just as wonderful." He wiggled his hips a bit, trying to show his lover exactly what he meant. "One of my D-Day options is a night full of hot, passionate sex." He pressed his lips lightly to Collins' neck before pulling back

"But it's 5am!" Collins exclaimed, trying his best not to give in to the large, dark, puppy dog eyes his lover was currently flashing at him and to exactly what Angel was doing as he sat in his lap. He loved being with Angel and never turned down sex, but the night was a long way off. "Can't we sleep first, then go out, then have sex?"

Angel rolled his eyes, sighed and stood up. "I'm going to shower, get rid of this nasty morning breath of mine and start on breakfast. And you'd best follow, Mr. Tom Collins." He leaned over, their eyes level. "I do not take no." He gently pushed the tip of Collins' nose with his pointer finger. "You'll regret it if you don't and D-Day is not a day about regrets."

Collins watched as Angel headed into the bathroom and shut the door. It was 5:15 on a Wednesday morning in the middle of his week off from school, but he never felt more alive or awake in his life. He stood up and picked out some clothes for the day, ready to celebrate his first D-Day, one of many he hoped, with the love of his life.