Mimi rolled over and smiled. Roger was snoring lightly and she slapped his arm. "Mimi, what are you doing?" he glanced at the clock, "it's not even 9."

She laughed and played with his unruly blonde locks while pulling him into a kiss. "I feel much better now," she said smiling.

"I'm glad. You had me scared," Roger said getting up. He paused and turned back around, "I think I'll go upstairs and take a shower. Go for a walk in the park with me later?"

"Of course," Mimi said rolling back over, "I'll be up in a little while." As he walked out of the door, she couldn't help but smile. She noticed his leather jacket on the end of her bed, grabbed it and ran to the door to catch him. A small box fell out of the pocket and she turned to pick it up.

Her eyes welled up with tears as she opened the tiny blue box. She slid the ring onto her finger and held her arm out to admire the sparkling diamond. "Oh Roger, that was what you were talking about last night," she whispered to herself, "All's you have to do is ask."

Mimi came up to the loft with the ring still on her finger. Roger had just gotten out of the shower and was rummaging through his things, still only in a towel. She slid past Mark and Maureen and smiled.

She disappeared into his room and threw his jacket onto the bed. "Mimi, what-" she cut him off with a deep kiss, "What was that for?" he asked wondering why he deserved that.

"Because you're so cute Mr. Davis. Do you know that?" she asked, still pecking his lips lightly between words. She slipped her hand between their faces and showed him the ring on her finger, "Roger, all's you had to do was ask me. You already know the answer."

He sighed heavily, "Mimi I wanted to ask you myself." He smiled and took her chin in his hand, "Does that mean yes?" He raised an eyebrow.

She didn't answer, but instead jumped into his arms and hugged him. She squealed as he started to twirl her. "Mimi, I love you so much."

Maureen and Mark ran into the room, hearing the excitement from outside the bedroom, "What's all the commotion?" Mark asked knowingly.

"Well," Roger looked at Mimi, "Maureen, it looks like you won't be the only one to have an engagement party."

Maureen ran to hug Mimi, and in a sea of 'oh my gods' rambled about wedding plans and bridesmaids and color schemes.

"Maureen, this just happened, give it a minute to set in," Mimi laughed as Mark took Maureen by the arm to calm her down.

"Congratulations guys, you really deserve it," Mark smiled as Roger nodded to him.

Suddenly, Mimi fainted and Roger caught her before she hit the floor, "Mimi. Mimi, are you ok?" It took her a few seconds before she opened her eyes.

"Roger," she whispered.

"That's it Mimi. I'm taking you to the clinic. This has gone on long enough," Roger said scooping his fiancé into his arms.

"We're coming too," Maureen said grabbing her jacket.

"I'll run down and hail a cab," Mark added running down the stairs.

Roger waited outside of the waiting room holding Maureen's hand while Mark set a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sure she's fine Rog. She said it herself, she just has a cold. I'm sure she's been dancing too hard at work and she's just tired." Roger still wasn't convinced. He had noticed how she had been feeling off for over a week.

The virus was taking hold. He just couldn't understand why he had to lose her now. They were happy and in love. They fought still, but it made the making up that much sweeter.

Fifteen minutes had gone by, but to Roger, it had felt like hours. Mimi came through the door with her head down and arms draped by her sides.

Roger ran to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly as she buried her head into his neck. "What happened baby?" he asked, wiping her hair from her face.

"It's just a cold," she gave a less than convincing smile, "The doctor gave me some sample pills." She waved a packet of pills in his face. "See, I'm fine." She shoved the pills into her pocket.

"Let's get you home and to bed. You need your rest." She rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't help but laugh at the fact that Roger Davis was being responsible.

"Roger's not thinking about himself Mark. Get this on film," she said jabbing at his ribs with her elbow.

An hour later, Mimi was asleep in Roger's bed and he sat at the bedside holding her hand. "Please get better. You can't leave me now," he whispered.

She rolled over and smiled, "I told you, I'm not going anywhere. We have a wedding to plan in case you've forgotten." Her frail hand ran up and down his leg reassuringly.

"Mimi, just rest please. You're sick and you know it." Her face lit with anger and she pulled her arm from his thigh quickly.

"I told you Roger, I'm fine. How am I supposed to marry someone who doesn't believe me?" she yelled, "I'm glad that you care, but honestly, I feel fine. I'm just tired."

"You need to lay down Mimi. Where are your pills? They'll make you feel better," he spat, trying to sound sympathetic.

"That's it Roger, I'm going downstairs. I can't take this. I have a stomach ache and you're planning my funeral?" He looked shocked that she had gotten so angry. She jumped out of the bed and grabbed her boots from the floor.

"Mimi, don't leave. I'm sorry. You shouldn't get worked up. It's not going to make you better. Where are the pills that the doctor at the clinic gave you?" he reached into her coat pocket.

She slapped his hand away from her pocket, "Those are mine. Just leave me alone. I'm fine." The door to the loft slammed shut.

Roger stood behind the door, with a blank face, as Mark slowly walked up behind him.

"I don't know what's wrong with her," Roger said putting his head down, "I just can't lose her now."

"Roger, maybe it is just a cold. She's not a child and she doesn't need you to treat her like one."

"Oh so you're on her side now?" Roger looked at Mark with his arm's crossed.

"Why don't you go out to dinner tonight," he paused, "to celebrate."

"But she's sick Mark," he paused and thought for a moment, "Maybe I can make her dinner here? Get the whole place set up all nice and wear an apron and stuff?"

Mark held his stomach and laughed, "Now there's an image. Roger in an apron."

"Hey," he smiled, "I'm a truly romantic fellow."

"Oh god," Mark laughed, "Go apologize to her and then I'll help you cook. You can't do it all alone."

Three hours later, the loft was filled with smoke and the dusty table was draped with an old red sheet and had candles ontop of it.

"Shit," Roger muttered while lighting the candle, "I don't have anything to wear."

"Go look in my closet. I'm sure I have a dress shirt somewhere that will fit you that my Mom brought from Scarsdale," Mark yelled from the other side of the room.

Roger ran into the room and flung all of Mark's clothes out of the closet, which resembled a hole in the wall.

"Ahah," he said, triumphantly raising a tan button-up shirt in the air. He threw back the other clothes on the top shelf and a shoe box fell onto the floor.

He casually picked it up to put back, but his heart stopped when he saw a picture of April and himself taped to the top of it. What was it? And why did Mark have it?

He reluctantly ripped the duct tape from the sides of the box and slowly made his way to his own bedroom. Mark was so busy finishing up dinner that he didn't even notice what was in Roger's hands as he walked across the loft.

Roger sat with his legs crossed on his bed and peered into the box. It had old pictures and letters. His eyes filled with tears as he held a picture of the two of them up. It was taken before one his gigs, only a few weeks after they had met. It was before heroin.

He fingered his way to the bottom of the box and saw a large manila envelope. He picked it up and undid the clasp on the back. The first paper he pulled out was the note that April had left him in the bathroom that read 'We've got AIDS'.

He wiped a tear from his eye as he dug his hand back into the envelope. He found her test results from the clinic. There was only one other thing left, a small white folder.

He picked it up. He had a sudden look of confusion on his face. He had never seen this before, so why did Mark have it?

All's the folder said was 'Daniel', written in thick black marker. It was Mark's handwriting.

I wanna know if people are reading this and if I should continue or not. Any suggestions or Reviews? Thanks to those who keep reading. I've been on vacation for the past week so I haven't gotten a chapter out. Hope you guys liked the last two.