XI.

February 28, 1991 – Take Mimi out on a real date. Go dancing. Then do IT.

"Oh my gosh, Roger, where are we going?" Mimi squealed excitedly as they walked down a sidewalk far from the goings-on of the East Village. The whole block was lined with little cafes and restaurants. Roger had remembered it from his childhood, when his mother would take him to 'dates' in the city.

"Sssh, babe, relax," Roger said, smiling. Their arms were linked like an old-time couple and for once, he'd smartened himself up a bit. Mark just had to film him when he came out of his bedroom.

"Holy shit! Roger Davis actually looks like a real person!" Marksaid, camera in hand.

"Like it, eh?" Roger looked at his reflection in the grimy mirror in their bathroom andfixed his hair a bit. He'd put on a button-down shirt for the first time in so long and some clean jeans and had borrowed some shoes from Collins. "Thanks for lending me the money for our date, Marky,"

"No problemo. Anything to get you dressed up and me able to get it on film," Marksmirked. "Where are you goin'?"

Roger shrugged as he fixed up the cuffs of the shirt. Damn things. He hated them, but he owed it to Mimi to look nice for once.

"Nothing fancy. Just somewhere where there's nice food and maybe some dancing,"

"Aww, that's sweet, Davis. Can I come to film?"

"Shit no."

"Didn't think so."

He'd seen from the corner of his eye as Mark lowered the camera and had stared at him as he still struggled with the cuffs.

"What're you looking at, four-eyes? Ain't never seen a guy trying to wear these things properly before?" Roger snickered. He'd looked at Mark who had his mouth slightly open. "What?"

"Damn, Roger…you look so much like your…"

"Don't even say it," Rogercut him off. He knew the word that was coming next and he didn't wanted to hear it. "It's not true."

"Where'd you get the shirt?"

"My mother gave it to me to wear to one of the parties my old man goes to…remember those?"

"Oh yeah. The ones you always play hookey from." Mark laughed.

"Yeah. That's where I got this thing. Haven't worn it yet since I ran away to here before it happened,"

"But you brought it along?"

"Yeah, just in case I met a beautiful girl and wanted her to be my date…and maybe future wife."

"NO SHIT!"

Roger just laughed.

"Okay, babe, we're here," Roger stopped in front of a little Italian restaurant.

"You're serious? Dinner? Oh Rog, you shouldn't have…what about the rent and your AZTs and all the other stuff that needs paying for…?" Mimi started to fret. Roger smiled, feeling his chest ache again. He knew in his mind that he had no use for AZTs any longer, which sent a burst of confidence through his veins. There was no turning back. This was the time.

"Meems, Meems, relax. C'mon, that's all taken care of. Let's just enjoy tonight without worrying about any of that,"

He smiled at her and she smiled back. In her eyes, he could see just how happy and excited she was.

"Oh baby, are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. C'mon, we've got a table waiting," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder.

"Oh thanks so much! Wow, a real date! Thanks, baby," Mimi kissed him on the lips out of sheer gratitude.

"Hmmm, let's reserve that for later tonight…" Roger grinned as they entered the restaurant, draping his arm round her waist.

The pasta was great: good old Italian ravioli with garlic bread on the side. They had soda with it, not wine, since both were trying to kick the alcohol habit. Roger couldn't help staring at Mimi all throughout the meal. She was dressed in a simple dress, which she'd borrowed from Maureen for the occasion (but which amazingly looked better on Mimi), and her hair wasn't tied up or anything, with one or two stray curls falling into her face. She was just too beautiful that Roger could hardly believe she was his girlfriend. His! Who knew he'd be such a lucky son of a…

"You okay, babe?" Mimi giggled. Roger snapped out of it and discovered he was holding his fork full of ravioli halfway towards his mouth. He blushed, feeling stupid, and put down the fork.

"You look great," he commented, looking into her eyes. God, he loved her eyes. They were so warm and beautiful and were always sparkling like she had some sort of secret.

"You look great too, Rog. I still can't believe we're here," she bit her lip as she grinned. God, she looked adorable.

"It feels stupid that we don't have wine but it's for the best," he smiled a sheepish smile and ran a hand across his hair.

"Aw, don't worry about that, babe. Here, I'm going to make a toast," Mimi raised her glass filled with cola and cleared her throat, looking directly at him. "To tonight, our friends and to us. I'm the luckiest girl in the world,"

"I'm the luckiest bastard in the world," Roger added.

Mimi giggled, covering her mouth. "Roger, your language! We're in public!"

"Sorry, babe," he replied. They drank the sodas and finished their meal. A band was playing in the background and some dude was singing in Italian in the background. Roger didn't understand what the hell the guy was saying, but he liked the melody just the same. He tapped his foot to the beat and hummed to the tune. Foreign, but not bad.

"C'mon, baby, let's dance," Mimi said, starting to stand up. She reached out a skinny, bronzed arm towards him and Roger felt his heart beat a little faster.

"Now?" he eyed the ravioli on his plate. "But we're not finished,"

"That can wait. Come onnnn…please, Roger?" Mimi batted her eyelashes in his direction and Roger had to smile. He took her hand and let her pull him up to lead him towards the dance floor.

A few couples were already there, though most were already old enough to be their grandfathers. Roger felt a little awkward to be mingling with them, but Mimi took up his concentration by stroking his face with her finger.

"Don't be so shy, babe," she smiled.

"Shy?" he grinned. "Who said I was shy?"

"You're freezing up," she chuckled a little. "C'mon, relax. It's you and me. This is our night."

"Yeah," Roger wanted to kiss her so badly. "Tonight's our night."

He twirled her around in the way his mother had taught him when he was seven years old. He was glad he hadn't forgotten it. Mimi looked impressed as she came to a stop.

"Like that?" he asked.

"Why Mr. Davis, I am impressed. Tell me, what other dance moves do you hold up your sleeve?"

A slow Italian song was being sung and Roger held Mimi close to him. He led her to dance for a while, letting his body just move. He'd always been comfortable with dancing like this, though he'd never told anyone, especially at school because sometimes even he saw it as sissy stuff. Mark knew how to dance too, especially the tango, which he had to perform at some Jewish thing. Roger had laughed his ass off as he'd watched Mark learn the moves. The kid had moved like a marionette the first time.

"Wow, baby, you're a great dancer. I never knew that," Mimi smiled up at him.

"Why thank you," he told her. "You're not pretty bad at this yourself. Tell me, did you dance for a living at one point in your life?"

Mimi slapped his shoulder playfully and they kissed, with Roger holding her face and Mimi holding his hair between her fingers. Hell, the woman was a great kisser.

"I love you, babe." Her breath smelled of gum and soda.

"I love you too." Roger touched foreheads with her and closed his eyes.

Eventually Mimi rested her head against his chest and he just waltzed slowly, his head resting on her hair, inhaling its sweet floral scent. His mind was working overtime. God, he loved her. But were they ready? Was he sure?

Shit. What if she says no? Fuck. I'll kill myself.

Angel's voice sounded in his ears. C'mon, honey, you can do it! No day but today, remember? This girl loves you. Don't let her get away.

Yeah.

"Baby…"

His heart was pounding so hard, he wondered if Mimi could feel it.

"Yeah?"

"I gotta ask you something…Look at me,"

Mimi looked up, her eyes filled with worry.

"Are you okay, Rog? It's not anything…bad is it?"

Roger gave a nervous chuckle, "Well it depends on how you view it…"

"What is it?"

"You know I love you right?"

"Of course…" She held his face. "Roger, please don't make this any harder…just tell me…"

Roger took a deep breath.

"Angel used to tell us 'No day but today'. And I know that it's the truth that neither me or you or Collins is gonna be lasting much longer…"

"Baby don't say that…"

"…Which is why, Mimi Marquez, I'd like to ask you if you could do me the honor of being your husband," Roger let a slow grin creep across his face, trying to hide how nervous he was. Good thing his voice wasn't shaking and he could still keep his 'cool' aura. God he'd die if that happened. "Could you accept, marry and love a guy like me forever, pathetic and stupid and loud as I may be?"

"You forget grouchy…" Mimi was starting to cry.

"…and moody, and someone who eats a whole lotta junk food and spends a whole lotta time with his guitar…" he added.

"…and who has a whole lotta baggage and writes songs he never sings but loves his friends with all his heart and is the sexiest, sweetest, most gentlemanly rock star on the planet…"

Roger smiled. "Exactly. Can you marry an asshole like that?"

Mimi threw her arms around him, hugging him with all her might. Roger was actually a bit taken aback, but he was psyched too. Did it mean…

"Yes, yes, Roger Davis, I will marry you."

She jumped onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissed him so passionately it made Roger's head spin. He spun her around as they kissed, feeling as if he'd just won a million Grammys. All around them, he could hear several people applauding them. Jeez, it was embarrassing but he didn't care.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, Mimi Marquez," he whispered in her ear as soon as they finished.

TBC