A/N- just wanted to wish all my Jewish readers out there a happy new year! The rest of you, have a wonderful weekend. I hope you all like the story so far. Please drop me a review so I'll know that you do!

10- Always

"I bet someone is responsible for that look on your face."

She raised her head. She didn't know someone else was home so early. She left work earlier, mostly because she couldn't do anything right, and now she just sat out on the fire escape. She did that a lot lately. It was the only cool place at the loft. You could actually catch some breeze every now and again, if you tried really hard. It's been more than a week since her fight with Mark. They were hardly speaking. She knew he was avoiding being around her; he stayed in the living-room hours after they all went to bed, saying he had to work, but once when she managed to steal a glance at him, she saw him just sitting there, staring emptily at his screenplays. When he came to bed, it was only when he thought she was asleep. He never realized that she couldn't sleep. She was always awake when he crawled into bed at some point of the night, staying as far away from her as he could. She was surprised he didn't stay on the couch, or in his old room.

Collins was standing in the window, watching her. His expression was serious and concerned. She snorted at his remark. "No shit, Sherlock," she replied bitterly, lightening a second cigarette. She told herself she was doing it because Mark hated it so much.

Collins climbed out of the window to join her. He found a seat across from her, leaning back on the metal bars. Silently, she lit him a cigarette and handed it to him. He took it, eyebrow raised. "Smoking? Yeah, just like I suspected. Something is wrong."

"Suspected? I know you, Collins, you probably know what's wrong." He just got back home three days ago, but nothing escaped him.

Collins tried not to look guilty. Then he looked at her seriously. "I'm hearing that you had a fight," he half said, half asked, as if he needed her authorization for the rumors. "A nasty one, according to my sources."

So he was talking to Mark. "Did your 'source' tell you what it was about?"

"He did." There was a short pause. They were just looking at one another. "I don't believe him, if for a moment you thought I did."

"Did you tell him that?"

"Maureen, I said I didn't believe him. That doesn't mean I don't think we should go deeper into this issue."

What was wrong with everyone? "There's no issue! It was a misunderstanding!"

"So can you explain the fact that Mark found a stash in your purse?"

"It wasn't in my purse, Collins, because it's not mine. And when I tried to tell Mark whose was it, he freaked out and called me a liar. So screw him, I'm sick of this." He'd better not take Mark's side. He was the last person she has left to trust in.

"How did you know it was Roger's?"

Her head shot up. She didn't think Mark would tell him that part, too. She sighed. Collins looked as if he was ready to listen to what she had to say. "I saw Roger in the park couple of weeks ago. He was paying this guy. You know, The Man." This was how they all called the drug-dealer in black. "I didn't want Mark to see that so I didn't say anything. And I made Roger promise he'd tell you guys himself, but he obviously didn't, and now Mark thinks I'm-"

Before she knew it, Collins was on her side. This was when she realized she was crying. She dropped what's left from her cigarette and buried her head in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug as she cried, running a hand through her hair. "Shh… it's okay, sweetie… I'm here. Come on, you know I'm not very good with damsels in distress."

She laughed in spite of her tears. She actually felt a little better. She kept it inside for so long, it felt so good to let it out. Sort of purifying.

Collins touched her cheek, making her face him. "I'll talk to Roger, and after I'll do that he'll talk to Mark whether he likes it or not. Then when everyone knows everything, we're gonna all sit and talk about this, and see how we solve it."

"Who says we can?"

"We must, we can't let Roger go down like that!"

"If he'll even listen."

"Oh, he will. Don't doubt that. He wouldn't have much choice." He smiled at her. "Now come on. Go inside and clean up, then put on one of your sexy little dresses and I'll take you out dancing. I'll even let you pretend I'm your boyfriend, if you want to."

She couldn't help but smile. He was so… well, Collins. "I don't really feel like dancing today, Collins."

"Hey, stop worrying because of Roger. Everything is gonna be fine."

"It's not because of Roger," she replied quietly, avoiding eye-contact.

"What is it then?" he asked, but looked as if he knew the answer. Well, he must have, for he was smiling like an idiot. "Don't tell me the filmmaker left you heart-broken."

"No, he didn't!" she protested, looking away. He didn't, she told herself. She wasn't heart-broken; she was just… upset.

Collins didn't seem to buy that. He was smiling even wider now. "You finally let someone in, haven't you? You finally like someone!"

She shook her head, blushing. He was so childish. "Collins, stop it!"

"Maureen likes a guy, Maureen likes a guy," he said in an annoying, singsongy, high-pitched tone that made her want to punch him.

The one thing he didn't know was that she and Mark were way beyond the 'like' already.

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As if things weren't bad enough, Cindy gave birth couple of days afterwards. Mark was hardly around, as he spent most of his time at the hospital with his sister, or at her house watching Abigail, so that his mom and Nathan could be with Cindy. On the one hand it was a relief because things felt less awkward when he wasn't around. On the other hand, Collins couldn't talk to him about the Roger thing, because he was constantly distracted with the new baby. And to make things worse, she know they all expected them to show up to the Bris together as if nothing happened. She couldn't have been less in the mood for that, and she knew that Mark was less than thrilled to take her with him as things were, but they didn't have much choice. So they dressed up and headed for the hotel uptown, where a family luncheon was about to take place.

Mrs. Cohen welcomed them with radiant smiles, kisses and a crushing hug for each of them. She didn't seem to notice their forced smiles, or the fact that they were not speaking to one another. Then they went over to see Cindy and the baby. Named after both his grandfathers, the baby was a tiny little thing, curled in a blanket on his mother's lap. He was sleeping peacefully as she leaned to look at him. Poor thing, she thought. Cindy, who looked pale and somewhat scared herself, did her best to smile and thank her for coming.

Once the traditional ceremony was over, Mark murmured that he'd be back in a moment, leaving her there with a bunch of people she never met before. 'A moment' soon became more like 15 minutes in which she just stood there, watching everyone, avoiding those she was already introduced to. Great. Her eyes wandered around the room, looking for the closest way out. As she did that, she suddenly spotted the bar and walked over there, downing two glasses of champagne one after another.

"Tough afternoon?" said a kind, female voice behind her. She turned to meet the smile of a stranger. She looked her age, and she was wearing a light mint-green dress that complimented her figure and complexion. She had a kind smile. She looked at her curiously. "I've never seen you around, are you one of Nathan's cousins?"

For a second she forgot who Nathan was, but then she shook her head as she remembered. "Oh, no, I'm just… the baby is my boyfriend's nephew."

It took the woman a moment, but then she shook her head in what looked like surprise. "You're Mark's girlfriend?"

"You know Mark?" She realized how stupid her question was only after she asked it. Of course she knew Mark; it was a family lunch, she was probably Mark's cousin or something.

The woman laughed. "I should. He's my brother."

That was Sophie? She would never have guessed it. Cindy and Mark definitely looked like brother and sister. Sophie, on the other hand, looked more like a distant cousin of them with her darker complexion. She was petite whereas both Cindy and Mark were rather tall. She wasn't wearing glasses, either.

Sophie seemed to notice her wonderment. She laughed. "I know. Cindy and Mark used to say I was adopted when we were kids, just to annoy my mom. It's nice to meet you, by the way, I'm Sophie," she reached out her hand.

"Maureen. And it's nice to meet you too."

Sophie gave her a closer look. She shook her head and smiled. "I must say, you look completely different than what I had in mind."

She smiled in spite of herself. "People keep saying this." In first appearance, they never passed as a couple in people's eyes. They were just too unlikely to be hooked up together. But that was the beauty of them, Collins once told her.

"Where is Mark, though? I must have missed him, I got here so late, there was a huge mess-up with the trains… but you probably don't wanna hear about it." She was speaking so fast, it was difficult to keep up with her. She seemed to be different than Mark in personality as well. She was definitely more open and talkative with people she didn't know. "Don't tell me he just left you here." She shrugged. It seemed to be exactly what he did. Sophie gave her a know-all smile. "No wonder you ran for the alcohol then. I probably would have done the same. But what can we do, right? We can't choose our family."

"That's true."

"I love your dress, by the way. This is actually why I thought I'd come over and introduce myself, so you might tell me where I can get one."

"Oh," she looked down at her dress; another painful decision she had to make for meeting the Cohens. Just like the skirt she chose to wear on the first night she met them, this dress too was knee-length, in a light shade of lavender she thought was the most incredible color when she bought the dress at 18. "Well, I got it quite some time ago so I don't really remember. I don't like dresses so much." Unless they were those sexy little ones as Collins called them. "But if you like it I can send it to you with Mark sometime. I hardly ever wear it."

"Nah, I'm too short for a dress like that."

"I love the color of your dress, if it makes you feel any better," she smiled. She started to like this girl. She was kind of like her in a way; in a very strange way, because in many other aspects, she was extremely different.

"I didn't dare wearing anything shorter, or I would have given my mom a heart attack. I almost did, once."

"Hey Sophie!" They both turned at the sound that cut off their conversation so abruptly. It was a girl their age who waved eagerly in Sophie's direction, a sweet smile on her face. Too sweet to be real, she noticed.

"Hi Nanette," Sophie replied dryly.

Nanette, what kind of a name was that, she wondered as the girl moved closer. Sophie didn't look so pleased. "Oh, no."

"What? Who is she?"

"Nanette Himmelfarb. She's the Rabbi's daughter. When she and Mark were 13 he was partnered with her in Tango lessons because our mom wanted him to dance at his Bar Mitzvah. She has a huge crush on him ever since. Thank God, my brother knows better. And has better taste, I'm happy to find out."

She observed the girl with the funny name as she approached them. She wasn't bad looking, not at all. She was a true redhead, not a fake one like April; her hair was carrot-red. Her teeth were very straight and very white, as if she spent years wearing braces (which was probably the case). And yet there was something extremely artificial about her; probably all these makeup layers and extra mascara that made her face look like a mask.

"You know this thing they say about us, Jewish girls? This nonsense about the Jewish Princess and all that? It's girls like her who are responsible for it," Sophie said lowly a second before Nanette reached them.

"Sophie! You meanny, you never return my calls!"

"I'm hardly home to get your calls, Nanette," replied Sophie, rolling her eyes. "I'm in college, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, you were always the smart one." Her smile widened. "Like your brother! I haven't seen him around by the way, where is he?" she asked, failing in sounding indifferent.

From above Nanette's head, Sophie gave her a look. "He's… around, I guess. But speaking of Mark, this is Maureen, she's his girlfriend."

Nanette's head shot in her direction. Her eyes narrowed. "Oh. Hello."

"Hi." She didn't like that look this Nanette gave her. It was as if she wondered what Mark found in her in the first place.

"I didn't know Mark was seeing anyone," said Nanette, looking at Sophie, as if trying to ignore her existence.

"Surprise!" said Sophie, her smile as sweet as Nanette's. "How long are you two together, Maureen?"

"Almost six months now," she said. Could it be so long? Wow. Suddenly she felt really proud of herself.

This didn't seem to be the answer Nanette was hoping for. "Oh. How… nice. And what do you do in New York?"

"I'm a song writer. I sing my own stuff for now, but I'm planning to try out Broadway, when the time comes."

"Broadway. Neat. Did my mom tell you her 'I've seen Barbara on Broadway' story?" asked Sophie, winking. It was obvious who she preferred as her brother's girl.

"Yeah, she did."

"You met his parents already?" Nanette asked wide-eyed.

"Couple of months ago."

"And that's all my mom talks about ever since," Sophie interjected. Nanette shot her a look, obviously not satisfied. She seemed to expect some support from her childhood friend. But then her nasty expression softened at once as she noticed something behind Sophie's shoulder. Mark was approaching them. Sophie saw him too and waved at him. He paused halfway there, probably as he saw Nanette, but then he started moving again, as if realizing he had no where to escape.

Sophie smiled. "There he is, my lost brother!"

"Hi Mark," Nanette said, giggling like a 13-year-old.

Mark ignored her. He wrapped his arms around his sister in a huge hug and then slowly let go. He looked at her hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Officially, they were there as a happy, perfect couple. Unofficially, things were way more complicated, and definitely less than perfect. For a moment, she also wondered how she was supposed to act, how he expected her to act, in light of everything that happened. Well, this Nanette kind of annoyed her with all this false sweetness, and her obvious interest in Mark, so she did what every other normal girlfriend would have done. She wrapped her arms around Mark's neck and flashed him a sweet smile of her own.

"Hi baby, where have you been?" she asked, pouting.

He seemed as if he wasn't expecting her to do that, but at the same time he looked as if he understood why she did. Luckily, he decided to cooperate. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head. "Yeah, I was… Nathan asked me to…" his voice trailed off.

It could be a good time to make him pay for suspecting her, yelling at her and then ditching her there all by herself. She gave him her best lost-puppy look. "Well, at least you're here now, Pookie." It worked. He instantly blushed.

"Aww, that's so sweet," cooed Sophie, giving Nanette a victorious look.

"So how's life in the big city, Marky?"

"Okay, I guess," he said, extremely distracted because her arms were still wrapped around his neck, her fingers slowly caressing his skin.

The music in the small ballroom resumed. "Oh, I love this song!" Nanette exclaimed. "Come on, Marky, let's dance!"

Mark looked horrified. "What? No, I really rather not to-"

"You should dance with her, Pookie," she said, with an evil smile that was meant only for him. "You know, for old times' sake. I promise I won't be jealous," she added and pinched his cheek.

"I really rather dance with you, Maureen," he said through clenched teeth. She knew that under the circumstances, he considered it as bad a thing as dancing with Nanette.

She shook her head, wearing her most sorrowful expression. "Oh, I'd love to, baby, but you know my ankle still bugs me every now and again, so I'd better not. Besides, your sister and me were in the middle of something here," she said, looking nastily at Nanette. "Come on. I hear you two were pretty good doing the Tango as kids."

Mark shot his sister a glare, but then when he seemed to realize he didn't have much choice, he sighed and led Nanette to the dance floor.

She and Sophie watched them for a while as they moved sort of clumsily to the sounds of music. Mark was a horrible dancer. She came to know that the first (and last) time she and Collins dragged him to a club downtown. He had that tortured expression now, almost as if he was in pain. It made her smile. At least she got some sort of revenge.

"You know," said Sophie suddenly. She turned to look at her. "You are sweet together. I mean when I first found out who you were…" she laughed. "I guess I didn't realize how well you two fit together before I could see it myself. And I can't tell you how happy I am, to know that my brother does know better than going out with… that," she said, disgusted, nodding towards Nanette, who was manipulating Mark through the other dancers.

She smiled sadly but said nothing. She couldn't shake away the pressing thought that no matter how clumsy he was up there, it should have been her with him on that dance floor.

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She finished her shift later than she intended. The café was packed and one of the waitresses came in late. She stayed. It's not like she had big plans for tonight. She knew Collins would be exhausted when he'd be back home because he stopped by earlier to tell her he was on his way to the library for some research. He had a lot of work to do before the new semester, only couple of days away now. God knew where Roger and April were, and if Mark would be home when she was back, he'd probably ignore her again. So she stayed and kept Steven company until it was time to go.

She bumped into the person who walked it. A curse escaped her lips before she managed to hold it back. She raised her head, ready to murmur a quick apology and head home, but then she realized who it was and she froze.

"Mark," she whispered, about to walk passed him and head home.

He gently grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Wait." His expression was urgent, pleading. She gave him a questioning look. He smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. "I thought I'd miss you so I ran all the way down here… and now I almost did."

He actually smiled at her. And was she hearing right? He came for her? That didn't make much sense. But she didn't say anything, just stood there and watched him, waiting to hear what he had to say. Just then a noisy group entered the café, and they had to step away for they were blocking the entrance. She followed Mark's lead and they went outside. They walked in silence for a while, and when they were at a considerable distance from the café, he stopped and looked at her.

"Roger told me everything," he said quietly. "I… I'm not sure what to say."

"You can start with 'I'm sorry'," she replied coldly. She wouldn't let him get away with it so easily, oh no. Not after everything he said and done. That heart-melting look and couple of kind words wouldn't fool her. He'd have to sweat.

"It doesn't seem good enough."

"You're right. It's not good enough. But it's a start."

He took her hands in his. She didn't try to pull them away. He looked deeply into her eyes. "I was a jerk. I should have known you had a reason for blaming Roger. I shouldn't have yelled at you the way I did, I shouldn't have said all those things to you."

"But you did. And what's worse, you meant it."

"I did. I completely lost it that day, and I'm sorry. I can't even start telling you how sorry I am." He stopped and took a breath. "Maureen, I know nothing I'll say now will make up for everything that happened, but I love you. In spite of everything I said, I love you, and nothing's gonna change it. Please forgive me."

He looked as if he was ready to go down on his knees for it. Silly Mark. How could she not forgive him when he gave her that look? And still, as she had some dignity left, she decided she wouldn't give in to him so quickly. Let him sweat a bit more. "What about that day you ditched me among all those people from your family I didn't know?"

"Well, I actually hoped we had that covered when you made me dance with Nanette."

"Do you really think that made us even?"

He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I… don't know. I hope." She gave him a look. "I… guess I should apologize for that, too."

"That would be nice," she said, her tone far from nice.

"I'm sorry I ditched you at my sister's party and left you with all those people you didn't know." He looked at her pleadingly, as if hoping for her forgiveness after all that.

She was quiet for a while, and eventually decided to play along. She fought to keep her face expressionless and indifferent. "You'll have to try harder than this."

He grinned, as if he seemed to realize she was faking it by now. "I thought so," he said, reaching for his pocket. "This is why I want you to have this." He put something in her hands. She looked down. It was a ring. In the soft light from a nearby streetlamp, it looked like silver. It had an engraving in the center of it, she noticed, of a small flower. "I wanted to keep it for our six months in a couple of weeks, but under the circumstances…" his voice trailed off. He looked at her hesitantly.

"You thought you could buy my forgiveness with jewelries?" she asked, trying to prevent her voice from quivering. She wasn't expecting this. Her heart was racing as she let her fingers play with the ring in her palm. She didn't dare to put it on yet. Not until they'd have everything between them settled.

Her question seemed to catch him off-guard. He went pale. "Uh, no, of course not… I wasn't… I mean I didn't realize-"

She smiled at his stammered attempts to save himself, and inched closer. "I forgive you," she whispered, her lips near his ear. She raised her eyes to meet his. "I just hope you won't forget what you said… so you'd never think about saying it again."

"I think I know better by now," he replied, smiling carefully.

"You better." A bit hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, still holding the ring in one hand. He held her close, and his sigh of relief didn't escape her. "I'm sorry about Roger," she whispered. She could only imagine what he was going through now, when he learned the truth about his best friend.

"I know. Me too," he said, slowly pulling away. He looked so sad. Damn you, Roger, she thought, fury filling her once again.

"I promise we'll do everything-"

He pressed his finger to her lips. "Don't. Not now. I still need some time to digest this."

She nodded. "Okay."

He smiled and took her hand, reaching for the ring. He took it. "So tell me. Was it this ring that saved me?"

She snorted and returned his smile. "Oh please. You know you had me way before that."

"I bet you missed what was in it," he said, raising it to the light.

Only as he did that, she noticed the inscription. It was tiny, and it probably cost him more than the ring itself, but there it was. Always, M. She looked at him as he slid it on her finger. It fit perfectly.

"Are we okay now?" he asked, his expression pleading and a bit hesitant still.

She smiled and snaked her arms around his neck again, gently pulling his head down for a lingering kiss. "We're okay."