Chapter 14

Disclaimer-They're Jonathan's not mine. Thank you Jonathan, I hope you're writing in heaven.

Author's Note- Yep, we're hitting opening night. Pent-Took what you said and tried to make it work better here. Hopefully it helped. Also, we're learning a little more about Mary.

Note-My next couple of chapters will take some time to do. I'm heading away from the main machine, but I will be on laptop. I should be able to put more up, just be aware it will be a couple of days before you see something new. Also bought Aida. Adam has the voice of an Angel. Merry Whatever you all. Read and Review-that's my present.

About an hour later, Mary felt well enough to open her eyes and communicate with the outside world. She got up slowly, Mark being a steadying presence along with a steady arm as she headed into the living area of the loft. She kissed him before they left the room, she felt well enough to do that standing up.

Collins food smelled better than it did when she first woke up. She knew food was a good idea, the medication she took would work better on a full stomach, but it would have to be a slow attempt at it.

She looked at the occupants of the loft and tried to smile. She knew it was weak, but she had to admit, she felt like hell. Damn migraine. It hit on the possible worse day, at the possible worse moment, Damn.

"Morning, Mary," Roger said softly, "Mark told us. You okay?"

"Once the jackhammer stops, yes," Mary replied, her grogginess showing, "This will pass."

"Anything we can do to help?" Collins and Mimi asked in stereo.

They grinned instead of laughing. The silence was appreciated.

"Guys, I'll be okay, but thanks for asking," Mary's reply was soft, "Marcus, you got anything other than Captain Crunch?"

"Marcus?" Collins, Mimi and Roger mouthed in unison.

Mark blushed. After Marky, he knew he wasn't going to live 'Marcus' down, but at least it sounded cooler.

"Hey it's better than Marky. Mary, give me a second, I think so," Mark flew past her to look in the cabinet, "Some oatmeal?"

"Yeah, that'll work," Mary put a hand on his arm, "I'll make it, it helps to be up."

"Distraction help at all?" Collins asked, "I used to have them as well."

"Always," Mary said, "Crap. It's opening night tonight."

"Yep," Mark replied.

"It's nine right?" Mary asked.

"Nine thirty to be exact," Mimi replied, "Mary, you okay?"

"Nothing food can't fix," she said, pouring the hot water on the instant oatmeal, "I don't have to be in until four. Until then, I need to ditch this headache."

"Medication working?" Mark asked, gently putting a hand on the small of her back.

"Yep," she said, finding a clean spoon and stirring the oatmeal, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Mark replied, "Roger can tell you I do good water and pills."

"He's a mench, let me tell you," Roger laughed, "Your color is coming back."

The phone rang, and to Mary the sharp sounds of bells did hurt. She closed her eyes and paled for a moment, waited for the ringing to stop as the machine picked up.

"SPEAK!" Mark and Roger's voice's always caused her to smile.

"Hello, I do hope I have reached the right place. I'm trying to find Mary, my daughter," a female voice said, "I watched the news last night and I want to make sure that she's okay."

Mary walked over to the phone and picked it up.

"Hi, Mom," she said softly, "Yes, I do know that I should have called you. No, I'm okay. No, you don't know Mark, Roger, Collins or Mimi. I do and I trust them. No, I don't need you to come down. I love you too. It's okay. I'm probably going to go back to the dorms in a couple of days. Erin made the news in Boston? No, Mom, I didn't know that she was positive. Mother, I sent you all the information on that when Mr. Eberly died. There is no possible way that I could have been exposed. No, I'm not leaving New York and coming home. No. Not gonna happen. Mom, I have to go. Mark's going with me to the theater. No, I'm okay. Yes, I'll see you on New Years. Goodbye."

Mary turned around to the occupants of the loft.

"You know, I've been asked why I didn't stay in Boston and dance there," Mary began, "You would leave too if you met my mother."

"You know, you can stay as long as you need to," Mark said, "I don't mind."

"Neither do we," Roger and Mimi answered in unison.

Mark laughed. Collins couldn't help but join him, as the others laughed. Mary did fit in, more than she knew.

They planned to regroup in time to see Mary's opening night. Mark and Mary had a little private time before she had to go in for final rehearsal, Roger and Mimi met for lunch, and Collins ran off to work.

Mark sat and edited his film. If he timed it right, he could drop it off to Buzzline before heading over to the theater. He was going to take Mimi's advice and make sure that he had plum colored roses for Mary's stage bow. He was excited for her, but he knew that he also needed to work. Rent would be due. Benny was becoming more friendly since he and Roger made up, and he would always be grateful to him for the ride to the theater three days ago.

Shit, that was three days ago, Mark thought to himself, as he watched Mary on film, pull another turn on her toes, You are the whirlwind to my life, Mary Blaine.

He was concerned about her though. Roger had made a comment that reminded him about himself. Mary was lost in the dance. He was right with his insecurity of the early day. She had become part of his life, but was she as lost in her work as he was. The death of her roommate had affected her, she was upset about it, but something wasn't sitting right with him. He couldn't place a finger on it, but her lack of emotion after McCready's arrest made him wonder. Was she so emotionally detached that she had forgotten how to feel?

The migraines were another thing. She never mentioned them before. She had medication for them, medication that worked wonders. Was something else going on here?

On film, the light that Mary had in her eyes when she danced was only echoed in one other place, when he looked into them. He knew he was lost, and he realized that he was thinking of her again.

Mary, on the other hand, had realized that she was very nervous about tonight. She kept going over her thoughts of how the piece she was dancing should go, over and over again. The ballet instructors she had always said she was a superb ballerina, her technique being picture perfect, her passion noticeable, but not at a level they thought would get her lead parts, but were willing to give her the sugar plum fairy in this so she could prove her grit. They also understood when she found Erin, they seemed to be watching her like it was a test.

She hoped and prayed she wouldn't fail that test. She packed her bag for the show, making sure that she had the things she knew she would need, then taking a brush out of her backpack, she brushed her long red hair, pulling it back into the bun she wore while dancing. She looked at herself in the mirror.

The pain that was her headache was fading from her eyes, and the paleness she knew from lack of sleep was present. The food did help, but as she looked at her reflection, she did see the weight loss she knew from stress. Once the show got rolling, though, she knew she would be okay. She walked out into the main part of the loft, past Mark and in her slippers, ran herself through her early stretches. She would do this again when she got to the theater, but doing it now meant less chance of muscle pulling when she got there.

It was a ritual that Mark observed, stopping his editing, and reaching for his loaded camera.

"Focus on Mary, opening day of Nutcracker, nervous but stretching every muscle, every bone, every sinew…" he narrated, "At least that's what I think you're doing…Mary?"

Mary gave Mark a glare then did something unexpected, he hadn't noticed her toe shoes. She went up on her toes, increasing her height.

"Show off," Mark laughed, "How nervous are you?"

"If I throw up now, it's not gonna look pretty nervous," Mary replied, "I have to concentrate, baby, so please forgive me if I don't talk."

"Have at it," Mark replied, "I'll just go back to editing…"

As Mary's concentration turned inward during her stretching, Mark let the camera roll. Her movements were somewhere between tai chi and watching a runner warm up before a race. Purposeful, yet beautiful.

Mary left for the theater, Mark deep in concentration. His edits were nearly perfect. The emotion was set in the frames that flickered by. The spirit and beauty of the holiday season was evident in every frame.

Mark was happy with it, but realized that he was alone. He looked at his watch, it was four and he needed to hit the bathroom if he was going to be ready in time. Roger and Mimi would be home any second.

He remembered the few minutes before she left. She came out, looking scared, but insisting that she go alone. She was ready to go, she was all together ready to dance. He kissed her as she left, seeing the light he knew she had in her eyes return. He wouldn't push it any further; he had grown to respect her decision and was willing to stick to it. She would know that soon enough.

Mary, on the other hand was a bundle of nerves. The theater was home, but it didn't feel like it. She got dressed in her costume, after another round of stretching, spoke to the few fellow dancers she did know then sat in the silence of the dressing area. Mentally she was ready, she knew every step, every direction, every facial expression.

The knock on the door pulled her out of her trance. She opened the door to an usher, who in turn had a vase full of plum-colored roses.

"He said he wasn't going to bother you, but to make sure you had these and the card," the usher continued.

Mary thanked him and took the roses. She smelled them, smiled, then opened the card.

Mary-

Finished the film and they loved it. Love Heals, Love is patient, Love is kind and Love waits. So will I, I love you more than words or images can say…Mark

PS-Dance like you never have tonight. We're all behind you.

Mary smiled. Her nerves were gone. She had found another home, with Mark and the rest of Bohemia.