AN: So ... there is a story with the story today. The Assistant Principal of my school had a stroke last Friday, and was placed in ICU. We heard he was doing better. Then today during eighth period, we heard that he had died. We started talking about him and his life, and I found out a lot of things about him. He was this amazing guy. He wanted to anything and everything, and he often did. He lived every day as his last. So, being the RentHead that I am, I hear this and say "No day but today." Right after I say that, the PA clicks on. "There has been a misunderstanding. Mr. McClain (the AP) is in critical condition. He is, however, not dead." OH MY GOD! I had a total Roger/Mimi moment! I really want to go to the hospital and stand next to him chanting "No day but today, no day but today, no day but today ..." but I figure security would throw me out within ten minutes. But please, keep him in your thoughts and your prayers (as cheesy as that sounds), because I can't brag about how Rent literally saved someone's life if he isn't alive, can I? Plus he is this really guy. I don't even know him that well and I like him. He coached girls basketball, founded a club to help African American guys get to college, and lots of other things in that vein. So yeah. ANYWAY ... so this was basically to let you know why it is I'm a little introspective in this chapter. It was originally going to be a lot of funny drunk people, but it evolved into this instead. So yeah. Wow. This is insanely long ... and I'm not done yet! Thank you so much to all who reviewed! And to bohemian21, thanks again for calling me on that: I said the Parthenon was in Italy, when really it's in Greece. WHOOPS! When it was pointed out, I felt so stupid. Grrr. But major props for catching that. Now, on to my anon reviewers:

socogal – I thought it was a lovely image as well. Probably still wearing that mesh hat thing, though. That's Collins, after all. I'm glad you don't mind the drama. So lets have some more! Yeah, well. I've had one of those days. Applause? (bows) And I know what you mean. The whole point is living for the now – and they keep worrying about their disease. Not that I criticize other people's works. Aw, crap. Mouth open. Foot inserted.

cherry 7up – I'm glad you like her. I'm growing fond of her as well. The gang is coming together – for now. Evil laugh. No, I don't completely know where I'm going with this, so yeah. But I'm fairly certain – more drama on the way!

Andrea – Aw, thanks. I loved to be loved – or for my story to be, anyway. I'm glad you feel that way. Obviously I do, but then, I'm a little bias, now aren't I?

A little bit of celebration. I've hit, and passed, the 1000 mark for hits on this story. Thank you all for reading this and making it happen! And finally, in closing of the longest AN EVER, I dedicate this chapter to Mr. McClain. May he get better soon and keep on living every moment as his last – no day but today!

Disclaimer: I forgot it last time! I don't own Rent, or Footloose – but I own Abby and Dave. Which is nice.

Deep Thoughts

"Footloooooose, fooottttlosssss, kkkick o' ueeeerr Sssundaaay boooozzze!" Dave waved a bottle and clung to Collins as he sang. He lurched over and grabbed Mark, who trying diligently to push him up the stairs. "C'mon, Maarky! Sing!"

Collins started to laugh hysterically. Roger, who was getting irritated as he tried to pull the professor up the stairs, asked tetchily "What the hell's so funny, Collins?"

Collins looked up at him. "Abby starts with an A." He swayed up one more step (only fifteen more, plus a landing, to his apartment). "An' Benny's a B, I'm da C and Dave's a ... a ..." He frowned, concentrating. "Wha's Dave agin?"

Roger rolled his eyes. "A D?"

Collins lit right up. "That's it!" He grabbed Roger's collar and said right in his face, "A D!" He started to laugh again, and started to slide down the wall. "A, B, C, D ... then three M's, and ..." He looked worried again. "What's Joanne?"

Roger shook his head at him. "You are," he informed Collins as he flung his arm his shoulders and lifted him up, "the only person I know who thinks when they're this trashed. You put down so much vodka I could wring it out of you, and you still figure out stuff it would take me weeks to put together." He managed to get him up to the door of his apartment (Mimi's old place), and called down to Mark, "I've got Collins!" He didn't hear a response. "Mark?"

"Dave's making a break for the door!" Mark sounded winded. Understandably, as Dave had a good foot on him. Roger practically flew down the stairs, and helped Mark drag their uncooperative friend (who was shouting "We have to go see Footloose, Mark!") up the remaining flight of steps. They plopped him down next to Collins, and the two promptly started to make out (in a sloppy, giggly, drunk kind of way.)

Roger opened the door (having taken them off of Collins back at the bottom of the stairs), and Mark nudged them with his foot. "In you go."

Laughing, the two got to their feet and weaved their way into their apartment, both singing Footloose. Mark turned and looked at Roger as the door closed. "How the hell did we get roped into that?"

"Maureen and Joanne wanted to go home," Roger began as they headed up the stairs.

"Abby went with them," Mark added. She had left him with a kiss on the cheek (he blushed. Again.) and a promise to meet for coffee the next day.

"Yeah, poor her." Roger grinned at the thought of Abby having to spend the first night in her new home listening to those two all night. Of course, that's how she'd probably have to spend most nights as long as she was there. "Benny had to go back to Alison's to pack," he continued. "And Mimi has an audition early in the morning, so she went straight upstairs. Leaving us." He noticed Mark looking at him with a wide smirk. "What?"

Mark raised his camera (which he had somehow managed to hold on to) and pointed it at Roger. "Roger Davis; rock musician, bartender, and fellow doormat." He looked over his camera. "Benny's right. You're whipped."

Roger glared at him as they entered the apartment. "Shut up." Mark laughed as they collapsed on the couch next to each other. "I wouldn't laugh if I were you," Roger warned as he wagged a finger at Mark. "You're going out with another Johnson. Let's see how long you last."

"Technically she's not a Johnson. She's a Rosenbaum. She's Maureen's mother's sister's daughter." Roger waved his hand as if to say "same difference." "You want a beer?" he asked as he reached in his camera bag, which he had slung on his shoulder. Roger nodded, and Mark tossed him a can.

Roger saw Mark giving him another look. "What now?"

"I just realized. Why aren't you drunk like Dave and Collins?" Mark looked totally baffled. "You usually are gone within a couple hours at stuff like this."

Roger contemplated his can for a minute before answering. "Benny."

Mark quirked his eyebrow. "I thought you were ok with him. Moving in and all."

"I am. It's just ... hard to let the past go sometimes."

Mark hesitated. "You know what Life Support ..."

Roger rolled his eyes and sighed pointedly. "Yeah, yeah, I know. No future, no past. It's easier to say that than live it."

They sat in silence for a while. Roger started staring at the bathroom. He thought about it a lot. He couldn't help it. "Mark?"

Mark seemed to snap out of his own thoughts. All about Abby, probably. "Yeah?"

Roger pointed his finger towards the room. "You ever think about it? You know. April? You did find her."

Mark couldn't have looked more dumbfounded if he'd tried. "You want to talk about that? Really?"

Roger shrugged. "I don't know. Not much. Just wondering."

Mark thought for a moment, then answered honestly. "Yeah. I do. She was my friend. And I loved her. But she got you sick, and I hate her a little bit too."

Roger gazed at the bathroom. "Me, too." Abruptly he got up and headed to his room. "Night, Mark," he tossed over his shoulder.

Mimi was asleep on the bed already. He smiled as she let out a tiny snore. He changed, then crawled next to her and pulled her towards him. She snuggled closer to him, opened her eyes a crack and murmured, "Roger?"

He grinned. "Go back to sleep, baby."

"M'k." He wasn't even sure if she'd even fully woken up. He kissed the top of her head. This was what he was going to have to remember. That she loved him, really loved him. That she was sleeping next to him, and had been for the last year. Not Benny. And he had to trust she wasn't going anywhere.

Maureen and Joanne were making Abby seriously uncomfortable. Their room was less than twenty feet away. Couldn't they wait ten more seconds until they were behind a closed door before they started to make out? She cleared her throat. When the two looked at her, she gestured impatiently at the door. "Oh, right!" Joanne, looking embarrassed, pulled out a key. "Sorry about that ..."

"It's fine." Abby grinned wickedly. "With any luck, me and Mark will be paying you back in a couple of weeks."

Maureen glance at her, then gave Joanne a pouty look. "Pookie, do you mind if I talk to Abs for a minute?"

Joanne sighed. "You know I hate it when you call me Pookie," she complained lightly.

Maureen put her forehead on Joanne's and giggled a little. "Let me talk to her, and I'll make it up to you any way you want." Joanne caved and nodded, heading to the bedroom. Maureen slapped her ass on the way, eliciting a "Maureen" from her wife, before pulling Abby down on the couch (there's had less duct tape, but the duct tape that was there was highlighted pink, and more noticeable). "So. You like Mark a lot, huh?"

Abby suddenly felt worried. "That's ok isn't it?" Not getting a response right away, she rushed on, "Because I know you used to date, but now you don't even like his gender, so I ..."

Maureen laughed. "Hon, it's ok! I'm happy for you. Mark's a good guy." She got a little misty-eyed. "Don't break his heart, ok? I already did that. He doesn't deserve to have it done again."

A small silence settled as Abby tried to figure out how to phrase the next thing she needed to say. "Mo ... thanks for not telling him about, well ..."

Maureen reached out to pat her knee. "Hey, it's ok. It's your deal to tell him. Just try and do it soon, ok?"

Abby nodded. "I will. I just want him to know me first."

"He might be more understanding than you think." Maureen smiled reassuringly at her, then got off the couch. "Now I should go attend to my new wife. Hear that? Wife!" She laughed happily, then shouted, "I'm coming, honeybear!" and charged in her room. Leaving Abby out on the couch to mull over her new, complicated thoughts, unaware that Mark was doing the same on his own duct-taped couch.

AN: Yeah. So. It was pretty serious. Hey, at least there was drunk Collins and Dave to make things funny! I hope. Anyway. Love? Hate? Review! And I will keep my factory going...