A/N- I've already said that to those of you who wrote to me, but I wanted to apologize again for this extremely late update. I'm not even 3 weeks into the new semester and I'm swamped with reading and writing for school. So yeah. Updates are gonna be less frequent from now on… at least until I'll get the hang of it.

As for those stage-door pics, as requested, I added a link for my profile where you can see part of them. If you wanna see the rest, just contact me :)

Now back to the story… sorry for keeping you waiting, guys! Reviews are still welcome!

16- Damsel in Distress

"Moo with me."

Her strange demand seemed to catch her audience off-guard. They all looked a bit stunned to hear that. From the front row, Mark lowered his camera a bit to give her a weird look. From somewhere at the back, a silly grin curled on Roger and Collins' faces, as if they tried to figure out where she was going with this, or if she was kidding.

Well, she was dead serious. "Come on, Moo with me!" she repeated, a bit more persistently, looking around her pleadingly. It had to work. She had to assure herself that she didn't do all that for nothing. She had to know it was worth it, especially the nightmare of that morning.

And then, out of the stunned silence, someone Mooed.

Yes!

Everyone looked back, as if wondering where it came from, if he was serious, should they all follow.

"That's it, Moo with me! Don't be shy! Let it go! Moo! Moo! MOO!"

It was a matter of seconds before she got what she wanted. The audience roared. Moos were mixed with cheers and woos, and she stood there onstage, orchestrating the entire thing, smiling victoriously. Throwing a glance at Benny, she was satisfied by what she has seen in his face. He didn't like the way things turned out to be. Whereas her, on the other hand…

She waited couple of seconds longer, enjoying her sweet victory. Then, when the Moos seemed louder than ever, she raised her hands and let her lips curl in a sweet, grateful smile, that was aimed straight at Benny. "Thank you!"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

She should have known he wouldn't accept defeat so easily.

Thank God, everything ended by now. Mark even got some great footage of the riot, so things might actually turn in their favor. If that would happen, it'd be the final blow for the Gray Corporation.

They were hanging out at the Life Café now, celebrating their victory. They were all fairly drunk by now, dancing on the tables, laughing, teasing one another. Her head was reeling as if she drank two bottles of wine, but she knew it was mostly just adrenaline and victory. Wine never had such an affect on her.

She glanced at Joanne, who was talking to Collins at a distance, and a small smile crept on her lips. It was the first night when they showed up as a couple, and although she feared from Joanne's reaction to her friends, or their reaction to Joanne, they actually seemed to be getting along pretty well. By Collins' enthusiastic hand gestures, he seemed to be giving Joanne one of his lectures, but she actually seemed pretty interested. Angel was sitting next to them. She smiled. She should have known that she would meet that sweet drummer boy again. She should have seen back then he was perfect for her Collins.

She let her gaze wander across the room. Roger and Mimi left through the back door like 15 minutes ago. It was easy to guess for what purpose, once everyone's beepers went off and the truth was out in the open. She was glad that things worked out for them the way they did. She came to know Mimi pretty well by now, after that first evening she spent at her apartment when she and Mark broke up. She knew her enough to know that she and Roger were right for each other. She hoped they'd take care of one another. They both needed to be taken care of.

Mark was sitting at the corner of the café. Alone, she suddenly noticed. He was watching the back door absent-mindedly, as if waiting for Roger and Mimi to emerge back into the café. She couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him. Everyone had someone that night. And it was the first time he actually saw her with the woman she dumped him for, so she figured how hard it was for him. He seemed to be okay though; probably because he made sure to have enough wine and beer around. His hands were embracing a bottle of cheap wine, as if his life was depended on it. He looked so lonely and desperate it made her heart break.

She owed him a lot. He saved her protest. He came over to the lot when she called him hysterically, even though he didn't have to. He could hang up on her, or tell her to go to hell, but he didn't. He didn't sound so reluctant to help her at first, not that she could blame him. She dumped him, and now she was asking for his help. It was somewhat selfish, sure, but what could she possibly do? She was desperate! Couple of days before, when Joanne found out that Mark was still her official production manager, she volunteered to take his place, and she said yes because Joanne could be extremely persuasive…

Anyway, in spite of her good intentions (and she kept telling herself that good intentions were Joanne's sole motivation in taking Mark's place), most of the time Joanne didn't know what the hell she was doing. She just wasn't a theater person. And even though she knew that, it pissed the hell out of her that morning, when Joanne called her to say that something was wrong with the equipment.

If Mark wouldn't have come to take a look at her screwed up equipment that morning, none of the later events would have happened. Not to mention the footage he managed to get. In fact, she should go there and thank him for everything, she decided, getting up. Her abrupt movement made her dizziness even worse. She felt herself swaying slightly, and held the edge of the table for support, scrounging an eyebrow. Hmm. She figured she probably drunk more than she noticed.

Mark looked up in surprise when she sat across from him. "What do you want?" he grumbled drunkenly. It seemed almost wrong. She smiled.

"You look like you could use some company."

"Don't you have your girlfriend to entertain?"

She chose to ignore the sarcasm in his voice. "She's well taken care of, with Professor Collins over there," she replied, nodding towards Joanne and Collins. When she turned her eyes back to Mark, she caught him staring at her. He turned his gaze away instantly, murmuring something. She sighed. "Look, Mark-"

"No. Don't." He looked straight at her, suddenly very sober. His expression broke her heart. "It's just… it still hurts."

"I know. I'm sorry," she said quietly. She was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable. He looked so sad. "I just wanted to thank you for today."

"It was nothing."

"You know it was more than that. If you weren't there to fix everything this morning-"

"I'm sure Joanne is intelligent enough to come up with something eventually."

That sarcasm again. She detected it right away. She shook her head. "I don't know. She's a brilliant lawyer, but she doesn't know shit about show business."

A shadow of a smile crossed Mark's face. He raised his head to face her, and his eyes met hers. His expression was wounded, broken. She tried to conceal that gleam of happiness she knew was visible in her own expression. She hurt him enough as it was.

"You keep on saving me," she said before she could stop herself, her voice getting a bit raspy after screaming her throat off in her protest and later on at the café. She'd lose her voice by tomorrow, she knew, but for once, she didn't care if she would. It was definitely worth it. "You saved me when I sprained my ankle, and you saved me again when my equipment broke down, you're my knight on a white horse…" she let her voice trail off hoarsely, feeling extremely light-headed all of a sudden. "That's what you are, Marky…"

"No, I'm not. Not anymore," he replied, shaking his head sadly. "She is," he added, pointing an unsteady arm towards Joanne, "She's your knight now… I'm just me… just Mark… just… some guy."

He was definitely wasted. He could never get drunk properly. She could always handle drinking. She always knew she had enough of it when she started acting funny. Like now. Looking at Mark, all she felt like doing was go and sit on his lap and kiss him.

So she did.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Thinking that they could use the fresh air, she and Joanne walked back home instead of hailing a cab. The snow seemed light enough to walk through, and even though it was almost 4am by now, the streets were still packed with people. Not that Joanne expressed any sort of objection. In fact, she hasn't said anything for the last… two hours? Hmm. She tried to figure out when was the last time Joanne actually said something to her that evening, but she couldn't remember. Her memory was completely blurred. Everything was fuzzy, and she could feel the headache that started buzzing at the back of her head. She knew what it meant. She'd wake up with a killer hangover. Ugh.

She actually felt a bit better after standing under a stream of hot water for almost ten minutes straight. Then she quickly slipped into old sweatpants and her college sweatshirt, and crawled into bed. Joanne seemed to be fast asleep. Now that her mind was somewhat clear, she thought again about Joanne's strange behavior in the past couple of hours. Of course, there was always the possibility she was imagining things, especially under the affect of alcohol. And it could be that Joanne was simply as drunk as she was. That was probably it, she told herself, snuggling into the blankets and closing her eyes. Nothing to worry about.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Boy, did she get it wrong.

Joanne was already awake when she hauled herself out of bed and into the kitchen the following morning. Joanne hardly raised her head to acknowledge her, just sipped her coffee absent-mindedly.

"Morning," she murmured, reaching for a mug. Her voice was hoarse and raspy, just as she expected. She should have tea instead, she knew, for milk would only make things worse, but with that headache… she decided she was better off having coffee.

Taking her mug, she came to sit across from Joanne, noting to herself that Joanne never returned her Good Morning. She was reading something, she now noticed. An open folder was set open on the table in front of her, but she doubted Joanne could concentrate on reading it. She consumed just as much alcohol the other night as she did. And she couldn't even read the label on the milk carton.

"You okay?" she asked, a bit hesitantly.

It seemed to catch Joanne by surprise. She finally raised her head from the folder, and their eyes met for a slight second. "Fine," she replied shortly, turning a page in the folder.

Something was going on. She wasn't sure what, but it was definitely there. Joanne didn't seem willing to talk about it. Maybe Collins told her something? Collins wouldn't do that, right? They seemed to go along pretty well. Of course, Roger could have said something to her, in defense of his best friend, but he was so self-occupied the other night with Mimi and all, so it couldn't be that.

And then there was that possibility she didn't even want to consider; that Joanne was still mad at her over the argument they had over the phone the pervious morning. It would be completely ridiculous to be still mad about it, though. She was really nervous before her protest, so when her equipment broke down, she did too. Joanne should have known she didn't mean half the things she said. But even that didn't make much sense, because if she was mad, it was only logical she'd be mad for the rest of the day, and she obviously wasn't, until some point. So what the hell was wrong?

"Maureen?"

The mentioning of her name shook her out of her reverie. She looked up and gave Joanne a questioning look. For a moment, Joanne said nothing. She had that hesitant expression, as if there was something she wanted to say but didn't know how to say it. She looked at her lover expectantly, patiently, waiting to hear what she had to say.

And still, she was caught completely off-guard when Joanne finally uttered her question.

"Did you cheat on Mark a lot, would you say?"

She placed her mug on the table in one sharp movement that almost made the coffee spill out of it. She opened her mouth, then quickly shut it again. For the first time in a very long time, she was absolutely speechless. Where the hell did that come from?

"I… What do you mean?" she asked weakly, feeling ashamed of herself of displaying her vulnerability.

"I think the question was clear enough," Joanne replied calmly. Her tone was cold. So were her eyes.

There could be only one explanation to this. "Did Mark say something to you?"

Joanne's face remained expressionless. "He might have."

She could feel the fury within her starting to burn. That bastard! "What did he tell you?"

"I think it's my right to ask the questions here, Maureen," said Joanne, looking at her accusingly. "Just answer me."

"No way! I won't cooperate with this nonsense!"

"Saying such a thing only makes you appear guiltier, Maureen."

"Guilty? I'm not one of your clients, Joanne, save this shit for work, okay?"

"Look, it's an easy question-"

"On which I won't bother to answer because this is crap! And if you believe those lies he told you about me, that's your problem, not mine, I won't go along with it!"

"Fine. Don't bother," Joanne said dryly. "I could figure as much last night anyway."

Her headache was getting worse again, pounding against her ears. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you, kissing your ex-boyfriend in the middle of a crowded café."

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "That's what this was all about? It was just one meaningless kiss!"

"Yeah, I'm sure he was telling himself as much when he had his hands all over you!"

"Joanne, come on, this is nonsense!"

"Look, everyone saw that. Are you going to deny it happened? That the alcohol somehow played tricks on me?"

"No, that's not what I'm gonna do," she sighed. "But you don't have to make such a big deal out of it. I was just being friendly, that's all. He helped me a lot with the stuff for my protest last night. And he got this footage of the riot… I was just being grateful."

"There are other ways to express your gratitude. Try to use them the next time, will you?"

She let out a desperate sigh. Why wouldn't she let it go? "Look, I was drunk, okay? People do the craziest things when they're drunk! It was only a kiss! It was Mark!"

"That's just the problem," Joanne said, her tone softening.

Now she was confused. "What is?"

"That it was Mark. He's your ex, and in case you didn't notice, he's not quite over you yet, to say the least."

"I did notice," she said softly. "But that doesn't change one very important fact."

"Which is?"

"That I love you." She didn't know what made her say it, and for a moment, she couldn't say anything else. It just sort of slipped off her tongue before she could think better of it. She got the feeling she said more than she had to. She blamed it on her hangover. Whether she thought it was true or not, it had the desired effect. Joanne's features softened instantly, and she reached over and took her hand.

"Oh, honey… I love you too."

Joanne never mentioned the issue of her cheating on Mark again, and yet it kept bugging her for the rest of the morning. It really pissed her off. What could he possibly tell Joanne that made her into a complete paranoid? And why would he do this? To deliberately destroy her relationship with Joanne? Mark wasn't someone who'd do such a thing, no matter how hurt or heart-broken he was.

Maybe it was time to pay a visit to her ex.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

When she got to their building, she was so nervous she could practically kill the first person she'd bump into. She stormed up the stairs and into the loft, slamming the door shut.

Someone groaned in response. It seemed to have come from the living-room, where a figure laid curled under a thick blanket. "Why the hell you did that for…" Mark mumbled, sitting up.

Her eyes narrowed. There he was, the bastard. He had no idea what he was in for. "Are you alone?"

"Roger is still at Mimi's," he replied, blinking, as if trying to adjust to the light.

It was then when she realized he didn't look so good. "What's up with you?"

"Hangover," he said, stating the obvious. "It was actually getting a bit better and then you walked in. Was it really necessary to slam the door that way?" he tried to get up from the couch, but she raised her hand to stop him.

"Don't bother. I'm not staying."

"What do you want then?"

"I want you to tell me exactly what you told Joanne about me yesterday."

Mark went pale. So he did say something to her! He looked away, as if trying to remember, and then looked back at her, looking extremely guilty. "I… might have said something… but I didn't…"

"What did you say, Mark?"

"I didn't mean half of it!"

"Well, she took it pretty seriously!"

He moaned and raised his hands to cover his ears. "Not so loud!"

"Look, if you two were talking about me, I think I have a right to know what you said!"

"Maureen, I don't think-"

"I don't give a damn about what you think, Mark! My girlfriend is pissed at me because she thinks I might cheat on her, because you told her I cheated on you!" Mark lowered his head, which made her blood boil. "Well, did you or didn't you tell her that?"

"I didn't lie to her," he said, looking straight at her. It made her even more furious. "You told me yourself."

"I told you what?"

"You said you were sleeping around. And since you bothered to mention it over and over again, I started to think that maybe you actually meant it. So I wasn't lying to her. I was just warning her."

Shit. She did tell him that. She remembered that fight. All she meant by that back then was for him to notice her. "Still, you had no right to tell her such things. This is none of your goddamned business!"

"Look, Maureen, what did you want me to do? You called me to come and fix your equipment without even thinking I might have other stuff to do, and then when I get there, she is there too… I was just-"

"Jealous?"

"No, not jealous," he said, way too quickly to be considered as true. "I was mad, okay? I think I have a right to, after you dumped me."

She sighed, but said nothing. In a way, he had a point. She should have been more thoughtful. He did do her a favor, after all. She could tell Joanne to leave or something. It wasn't very fair of her.

"I guess I got a bit carried away," Mark said quietly. "I'm sorry. I'll go and talk to her if you think it'll work things out."

"No, don't bother. She might kick your ass if you'll try," she smiled sadly. "I'm sorry I called you in the first place. I just didn't know who else to call."

"That's okay."

"I just wish… that we could be friends again. You know, like when I first moved here. Before… everything," she said. She got up and walked over to the couch he was sitting on, and sat beside him.

"It can never be the same and you know it," Mark smiled sadly. He changed so much since then, she suddenly realized. As if he grew up, in a way.

"I know. But that's not necessarily a bad thing." Before she could stop herself, she reached over and tousled his hair. "You are my knight on a white horse, Marky."

He looked confused. He obviously didn't remember that part of last night. "What?"

At least she wouldn't have to apologize about kissing him. "Nothing," she smiled. "Friends?"

He seemed to hesitate, but then he slowly nodded and managed a forced smile. "Sure. Friends."