I've had a decent response for my first chapter, so here's number 2! This chapter gets more into the story's plot. I hope you enjoy. Please please please please PLEASE review!

"When you're dancing her dance, you don't stand a chance," Mark murmured, jingling his keys to separate the house key he desired. An old tune swam in his head, one he knew he recognized, but for reasons he couldn't put his finger on. "Her grip of romance makes you fall… Ah, finally, here it is." He shifted the paper grocery bags in his arms so he could reach the door.

He shoved the key into the lock and jiggled it quickly. The pop of the freeing lock echoed in the nearly vacant stairwell. The wall of a door slid heavily open, displaying the godforsaken loft they inhabited. Rock and roll posters still hung on the walls, although they were of a newer variety. Roger had been bringing in a plethora of them, which Mark took to be the clubs' compensation for the lack of a plethora of money. It was going to take time for Roger's old fans to come back. The loft otherwise looked as dismal as ever, with the extension chord still snaking around the furniture and wood burning stove still warning about its temperature in annoying fire engine red. Mid-spring humidity crept in through the ever-open skylight. Home sweet home? Sure, why not.

Mark hummed inattentively and dropped his keys on the counter. His stomach was growling and he was excited to be able to set down his bags and start on some sort of dinner.

"You aren't going to let me in?"

Mark swung around, looking around the loft. The voice seemed to come from nowhere. It sounded like it could have been Mimi, although there was no sign of any accent and the voice was a little kinder. Playful like Mimi, but less seductive. Mark assumed it was their mystery guest for the night. He walked out the door and peered throughout the stairs. There wasn't anyone there.

"Hello?" he called, looking on the floors below and above him. It seemed the light bulbs had burnt out in the stairs above him that led to the roof. That must be where she was hiding. "Anyone…up there?"

As his eyes adjusted to the dark upstairs, he noticed a sneaker swinging in mid air. It was a black high top and it dangled from under the railing above him. He traced the shoe up to a leg, to a body that was sitting on the next floor. He thought he could see slender hands wrapped around the poles of the railing.

"Are you Mark?"

"That's what they call me."

In one swoop, the figure slipped under the bar and dangled right in front of Mark's confused face. Her skin was much lighter than Mimi's, with long, wavy, creamy auburn locks that were loosely tied up on her head. Pale lips slipped over white teeth in a smile. Her eyes were cautious but friendly, twinkling gray-brown. She wore simple jeans that had the occasional hole. It was obvious those spots were genuinely worn in. Hanging from the railing caused her gray t-shirt to ride up slightly, showing off a curvatious figure. One of her hands unlaced from the bar and extended to shake his. She hung crooked, due to her change in position.

"Hola, Mark."

Mark tentatively grabbed her hand and shook it. This was one unusual girl…

…Who apparently didn't think this through, Mark thought, as he peered at the ground, which lay obviously offset from her feet.

"Pleasure to meet you. Gaby, right?" he asked, trying not to laugh. She nodded. "So Gaby…how exactly did you intend to get down?"

"Like this…" She started to swing slightly but stopped herself when she saw how inaccurately she'd judged her landing pad. "Great," she snickered, attempting to swing her other arm up to the bar before realizing her and Mark were still holding hands. She grinned and motioned to his hand.

"You're going to pull yourself up?" She nodded. "No, no, don't bother with that. I'll help you out." He pulled the hand he held behind his neck and rested his arm under the crook of her knees. "Now let go, slowly, please, and I'll catch you. Don't give me that look, I won't drop you! You're Mimi's friend. Any friend of hers is a friend of mine. I don't drop friends." She held her breath and let go of the bar above her. She dropped down, somewhat clumsily, and although Mark staggered, he held her strong in his arms.

"Thanks," she mumbled and smiled. She looked directly into his eyes and it wasn't until then that Mark had worried his knees would give out.

The two remained there for a moment. Gaby was surprised the skinny blond bohemian was strong enough to hold her for as long as he was. Mark's touch was soft and he held her close to him. This wasn't just a rescue attempt, she thought. He knew he should feel strange holding her like he was, but he was just happy. They stood without moving, no expectations, completely at ease in an utterly odd situation.

"Wow, guys. Apparently you really hit it off."

Both heads snapped to attention towards the couple walking up the stairs. Roger's leather-jacketed arm was protectively draped around Mimi's shoulder and both were smiling.

"Roger, I'd like to introduce you to my best friend Gaby."

Roger jokingly extended a hand and was surprised when the arm that held around the front of Mark's neck let go and reached out. She wore a friendly smile.

"Hey there, Roger."

The clanking of mismatched plates rang through the loft. A stained silver pot full of tap water boiled on the lone hot plate. Macaroni noodles danced in the bubbling water. The Bohemians were scattered around the loft. Mimi leaned on the counter, fiddling with the shiny packet of fake orange cheese. Mark hovered over the pot with a long-handled spoon. The flushed red shade that his face had recently been due to embarrassment had not entirely faded. Gaby sat cross-legged on the heavy metal table, twinkling eyes pressed into slits by her smile, ripping a dull head of lettuce into a bowl. Roger lounged on the couch, picking stray strings on his guitar and telling them all a story from the bar the night before.

"So, our set's over and the girl comes back, but this time, her hair is out of the pigtails and she has no pants on. I'm thinking, 'Shit, this isn't a good start'. She pulls a sharpie out of God knows where and winks at me," Roger recounted. "Needless to say, I ran."

The others doubled over in laughter and Roger grinned at his impressive story-telling ability. The chuckles slowly died out and silence filled the loft as each messed with their respective tasks. The silence wasn't deafening, exactly, but it did ring in all of their ears. Roger broke the silence first.

"So…what exactly were you and Gaby doing when we got here, Mark?"

Mimi's head snapped up and she implored the two with her eyes and raised eyebrows. Mark furrowed his own, trying to figure out what to say. Apparently the lettuce head suddenly became more tedious and Gaby gave it her full attention.

What did they have to be embarrassed about? Mark thought. They hadn't done anything. But the looks they exchanged. They weren't exactly sinful but they must have meant something. Perhaps they didn't. Mark had felt a spark between them. Having someone to hold felt so right. It wasn't like being with Maureen, all about the sex and excitement. It had never occurred to him at the time that there was anything else. But had Gaby noticed it? Did she feel anything remotely close to what he did?

No words came out of Mark's mouth and his eyes glazed over in thought. All the while, Mimi and Roger watched him curiously. Gaby glanced timidly up from her bowl and noticed Mark spacing out. She wanted so badly to laugh out loud at him but something inside of her said that it probably wouldn't be a good idea. What was going on in that head? That was something Gaby would die to know. She had to save the poor guy though. It wasn't fair for her to have hung him out to dry like that.

"It was my fault," she started, shrugging. "I was stuck on the railing on Mimi's floor. Couldn't get off. Mark was lending me a hand."

Roger's expression switched from entertained to confused. "Stuck on the railing? How exactly does one manage that?"

"Easy. I swung down from the floor up there and the ground was further than I had anticipated."

Roger's expression had not changed from the explanation. Mimi nodded and returned to her squishing. Her expression was soft, mildly amused but not at all confused. Roger turned to Mimi, expecting to see an identical look of surprise on her face.

"Mimi?" he exclaimed, "You believe that!"

"Mmhm." She glanced up, smiling while she nodded. Roger's mouth dropped open. "What? I know Gaby. It's not really that weird."

Mark had slowly begun to slip out of his daze and had had full control of his consciousness by Mimi's last comment. He took only a second to register what had happened. Gaby had covered for him. (Maybe it wasn't exactly covering; his neck wasn't the only one on the chopping block.) But it wasn't weird? Mark smiled to himself. What was it about him and unusual women? If Maureen wasn't unusual, no one could possibly be.

Mark cocked an eyebrow in Gaby's direct. She smiled warmly and he noticed the slight twitch of a shrug in her shoulder.