A weird little fic about Mimi's thoughts during Light My Candle. This is sort of a sequel to The Meeting. It's on what her thoughts would be if she sang this song after that story. Weird, yes. Enjoy!
Mimi Marquez was walking back up to her apartment after a little visit to Ramon, the friendly neighborhood smack dealer. Her candle in one hand and the little packet of heroin tucked safely in her pants pocket, she was one flight below her loft when the door leading to the roof opened. Roger Davis, the man living below her, walked out, long blond hair bouncing lazily as he stepped down the stairs. Mimi hid as he stormed into his flight.
He's probably lonely, Mimi thought, remembering what she had overheard seven months earlier. Grinning, she blew out her candle and headed to his apartment, knocking three times on his door.
He pushed it open, saying, "What'd you forget?" before realizing that Mimi was standing there.
She looked up at him, brandishing the candle coyly. "Gotta light?" she asked.
He looked stunned, trying to place who she was. "I know you, you're . . ." His gaze flew down her arms, which trembled slightly from the recent exposure to the outside. "You're shivering," he noticed, pulling his leather jacket over her shoulders.
She stepped inside. "It's nothing, they turned off my heat, and I'm just a little weak on my feet. Would you light my candle?" Mimi then noticed that his blue gaze was following her every move. "What are you staring at?" she questioned.
Roger shook his head, smiling. "Nothing, your hair in the moonlight." He tucked a lock behind Mimi's ear. "You look familiar," he said, pulling out matches and lighting the candle.
Obviously. I walked in on you and this April practically doing it a few months ago.
Not wanting to get into that, Mimi pretended to feel faint. And of course, Roger, the gentleman he was, tried to catch her. "Can you make it?" he asked, concerned.
Smirking, Mimi stepped out of his arms. "Just haven't eaten much today," she sang, twirling in circles, "At least the room stopped spinning anyway." She noticed again he was staring at her. "What?"
Roger shrugged. "Nothing. Your smile reminded me of-"
April. Of course.
"I always remind people of- who is she?" Mimi interrupted, as if she hadn't known for almost a year.
Roger seemed to go into a slight daze. "She died." I know. I heard you cry. "Her name was April." You moaned her name that night.
Mimi blew the candle out quickly. "It's out again," she apologized. When Roger looked forlorn, she added, "Sorry about your friend. Would you light my candle?"
Lighting another match, Roger looked at Mimi shyly. "Well . . ." he drawled.
"Yeah . . ," Mimi encouraged. Suddenly, her finger burned. "Ow!" she cried, sucking on her finger.
"Oh, the wax," Roger said, taking her hand in his. Little zings flew up Mimi's arm. "It's-"
"Dripping," Mimi said, pulling Roger's hand towards her chest and slowly trailing it downwards. "I like it between my-"
"Fingers, I figured!" Roger stammered, jumping away. "Oh well. Goodnight."
Mimi smiled and handed Roger back his jacket. She strutted out the door, reaching for her smack, before finding her pocket empty. Looking on the ground, Mimi knocked on the door.
"It blew out again?" Roger mused.
"No, I think that I dropped my stash," Mimi said angrily, looking around.
"I know I've seen you out and about, when I used to go out." He pointed to her candle. "Your candle's out," he said.
Mimi groaned, paying no attention. "I'm illin'. I had it when I walked in the door. It was pure! Is it on the floor?"
"The floor?" Roger said, watching Mimi's every move.
She crouched over to search, before a little bell in her head went off. Mimi glanced back at Roger, whose gaze was planted firmly on her butt.
"They say that I have the best ass below 14th Street. Is it true?" she asked, pretending to be irritated.
Roger, realizing that Mimi had caught him staring, looked up. "What?" he said.
"You're staring again," Mimi laughed, sitting up.
"Oh no," Roger said, embarrassed. "I mean, you do . . . have a nice . . . I mean-you look familiar," he stuttered, his ears turning adorably red. He got down on the floor to search with her.
"Like your dead girlfriend?" Mimi asked cautiously, considering telling him that she had seen them.
He shook his head. "Only when you smile, but I'm sure I've seen you somewhere else."
He can't remember that night. He just can't.
Mimi thought quickly. "Do you go to the Cat Scratch Club? That's where I work- I dance. Help me look!" she added, crawling around on the floor.
Roger's eyes lit up in remembrance. He sat up. "Yes! They used to tie you up!"
Mimi rolled her eyes. Great. He knows me from my birdcage days. "It's a living," she sighed, continuing to look.
His face glowed with mischievousness. "I didn't recognize you without the handcuffs," he teased.
Mimi cut him off, sitting up. "We should light the candle," she interrupted, holding it out to him. "Oh, won't you light the candle?"
Roger obediently lit the candle. "Why don't you forget that stuff?" he asked about the heroin. "You look like you're sixteen."
Mimi rolled her eyes again and stood, a motion he followed. "I'm nineteen," she said. And it's not like you were much older seven months ago with April. "But I'm old for my age," she laughed, bumping her hip against Roger's and setting off to look for the smack. "I'm just born to be bad."
"I once was born to be bad," Roger echoed disapprovingly. "I used to shiver like that," he said, referring to her shoulders.
Mimi felt indignant. Her shoulders weren't shivering from the smack – yet. She had just been outside. "I have no heat, I told you," she informed.
"I used to sweat," he interrupted quickly.
Shit. I am sweating. Fucking withdrawal.
"I got a cold," she said lamely.
"Uh huh," Roger said, clearly not believing her. "I used to be a junkie."
Why deny it anymore?
"Now and then I like to feel good," she drawled.
Roger looked unconvinced. He looked on the floor. "Oh here!" he said, picking up something. He then looked guiltily at Mimi.
"What's that?" she asked, strolling towards him.
He looked uncomfortable, sliding the packet into his back pocket. "Candy bar wrapper," he pathetically invented.
Seeing that Roger wasn't going to give up the heroin on his own free will, Mimi resorted to the talents that got her fed every night. She walked up to him slowly, gazing up at him through her lashes. "We could light the candle," she purred, walking around him to try to reach his pocket. He quickly sat down on the couch. "Oh, what'd you do with my candle?" She crawled over him and sat on the arm of the couch.
Roger looked up at her nervously. "That was my last match," he said pointlessly.
"Our eyes'll adjust," Mimi dismissed. "Thank God for the moon."
"Maybe it's not the moon at all," Roger said quickly, seeming to want to keep the conversation going. "I hear Spike Lee's shooting down the street," he said, pointing out the window.
"Bah humbug," Mimi murmured, taking his and with hers and examining it slowly. "Bah humbug."
Roger stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the fact that Mimi was holding his hand. "Cold hands," he swallowed, trying to act casual.
"Yours too," she smiled, running her fingers gently over them "Big. Like my father's." Mimi suddenly felt goose bumps fly across her skin and she shivered. Withdrawal was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Better get it now. "Do you want to dance?" she asked suddenly, pulling Roger to a standing position and twirled herself with his hand.
"With you?" Roger asked incredulously.
"No," Mimi said sarcastically, spinning a little more. "With my father."
Roger smiled. "I'm Roger," he said, sounding amusedly defeated.
Mimi slowly circled him. "They call me," she hummed as she got to his back, where she artfully removed the little packet, a trick she had learned from before her Catscratch Club days. "They call me Mimi," she smiled, standing in front of him. Mimi shook the packet in front of his face and grinned coyly, before turning and walking out the door, sliding it closed behind her.
A/N: Sorry it took so long! I had other fan fictions to update on and everything's been really confusing lately.
