A/N: Written for speedrent challenge #57. And in this fic you will find a perfect example of what I like to call Maureen-logic. It may be internally consistent (and even that's debatable), but to the outside world it makes no sense at all. You've got to love the way Maureen's mind works…
Benny was beginning to get tired of the baleful, accusing look Maureen had been giving him for the past twenty minutes. She hadn't been doing that when Alison was over at the loft—not that she had been particularly sociable either, but he'd written that off as Maureen just being Maureen. The glaring hadn't started until he came back from walking Alison to her car. At last, Benny sighed and demanded, "What is it?"
Across the room, Roger paused in fiddling with his guitar and glanced up, then looked back down upon realizing Benny wasn't talking to him. The soft noise from the guitar resumed, single notes that quickly faded into the background and no one really took notice of anymore.
"I don't like her," Maureen said bluntly, still giving Benny that look. Benny stared at her.
"What? Why?"
Roger rolled his eyes and muttered softly, "Oh, great, here we go…"
Maureen shot him a glare while he just ignored her, and after a moment she turned back to Benny. "I just don't like her. She bothers me."
Roger snorted. "Of course she bothers you. She's a spoiled rich girl whose name ought to be Muffy or something equally disgusting, and God knows what she's doing with Benny, of all people."
"Roger?" Benny snapped. "Shut up." Roger shrugged and turned his attention back to his guitar; Benny watched him a moment longer, then sighed and looked to Maureen. "You can't dislike someone just because."
She didn't say anything for a moment, just watched him in silence, and finally said awkwardly, "She was drinking diet Coke."
At first Benny could find no response to that, simply staring at Maureen in disbelief. "You're kidding." He'd known Maureen could be a little odd, but something like this was… well… Insane was the only term that occurred to him.
For once, at least, Maureen seemed as if she realized what she was saying was ridiculous, but that didn't seem to stop her. "I'm serious, Benny. She's disgustingly pretty and thin and she doesn't need to be on a diet, so…"
Benny stood up, shaking his head. "I give up."
He retreated quickly to his room, and Maureen called after him, "What, you don't think it's a little weird?"
Roger smirked at her. "No. We think you're a little weird, but—" Maureen hurled one of the pillows from the couch at him, and he was forced to stop speaking as he ducked the projectile.
"Shut up, Roger."