A/N: I cannot believe you all just missed it! There was this small… something… in the ending of the last chapter I was sure you'd all pick up on and no one did! Gah! The following scene in this chapter was supposed to be a twist on that, but since none of you got it… oh well. Maybe it wasn't as noticeable as I intended it to be. If you wanna know what this 'something' was, just go back to the previous chapter and find it towards the end, in Adam and Maureen's conversation.

23- Trusting Desires

She watched the vanishing view of 42nd street as the car drove away, until nothing was left from the theaters and billboards but a shimmering sparkle in the distance. She sent side-glances at Mark when he wasn't looking, which wasn't such a difficult task as his gaze was turned away from her. He seemed similarly occupied, watching the street from the window closer to him. He had that contemplated look, the one he always got when something was bothering him. He said nothing from the moment they left the theater. Nonetheless, she knew what he was thinking about, that he was probably waiting for the right opportunity to ask her about it.

Shortly afterwards, the car slid to a halt in front of her building. The driver turned to look at her. "There you go, Miss. Are you sure you don't need me to get to the party?"

"No, that's okay, George. I'll manage. See you tomorrow afternoon."

"Good night. Enjoy your evening."

"I will," she smiled. "Good night, George. Thanks."

As if Mark interpreted it as a sign, he murmured a quick goodbye to George and went out of the car. He waited for her to follow, and they entered the building silently. She smiled at the doorman, who returned her smile and asked how her show went. As discreet she always knew him to be, if he was bothered by the strange man at her side, he said nothing about it. The arrival of the elevator put an abrupt end to their conversation, and she walked into it, Mark following suit. Still saying nothing, she noted. She figured he'd have to break the silence soon enough, to ask her about this thing on his mind. His conscience wouldn't let him go into her apartment if he had the slightest suspicion that-

"Maureen, wait." She blinked, still kind of surprised although she expected it. They were standing at her doorway. "Maybe I should just go."

"We said we'd come over here to talk," she half said, half asked.

"Yeah, but I… it suddenly feels wrong, to barge into your life that way after all this time." He stuck his hands in his coat pockets and kept his gaze on the floor. "You've obviously got your own life now, I don't want to be in your way."

Although he didn't explicitly say it, she knew she was right. What Adam told her earlier bothered him. She laughed softly. "Mark, there's no one else."

He looked up, confused. "But this guy said-"

"Okay, there is someone, but not who you think," she said, reaching for her keys. She unlocked the door. "Come in, I want you to meet her."

The apartment was dark and quiet when they stepped in. A small figure laid curled on the couch, raising its head at the sound of the opening door. She smiled. There she was, her baby girl.

"Hey, sweetie, mommy's home!" she cooed.

Her one-year-old Pug looked back at her sleepily, yawning, as if scorning her for the unwelcome interruption. She sat up and stretched lazily, then jumped off the couch and hurried over to where they were standing, suddenly wide-awake. She knelt down, momentarily forgetting Mark's existence, and let the dog lick her cheeks. "Hey, gorgeous. You missed me? I know you did. I missed you too," she spoke softly, tickling the dog under her chin and along her stomach. She looked up at Mark, who stared at her in disbelief. He obviously wasn't expecting this. She smiled. It was her turn to catch him off-guard.

"It's… a dog."

As if she could understand him, the dog suddenly lost interest in her. She walked over to Mark and started sniffing his shoes, her tail wriggling madly. He knelt and patted her like she did a moment ago. The dog licked his hand enthusiastically, making him laugh.

She rolled her eyes. "So typical. She loses it when there are boys around."

"Reminds me of someone I used to know," said Mark, hardly looking at her. He looked completely taken by the dog's charms. Well, who wouldn't be?

"Well, let me have her so you'll be properly introduced," she said, trying to get a hold on her dog. Eventually, with much difficulty, she succeeded. "Mark, this is Holly," she smiled and raised one of Holly's paws. "Holly, this is Mark, he's an old friend of mommy. Say hi!"

Holly looked at her, her head tilted to one side, her deep-brown eyes huge and understanding. Then she struggled out of her hold and hurried back to Mark. She huffed in discontent.

Mark looked up, obviously amused by her reaction. He was smiling now. "Why Holly?"

"After Holly Golightly, from Breakfast at Tiffany's." She knew it was his favorite movie. It was one of hers, too.

"How long you have her?"

"I got her for my birthday several months ago from some friends at the theater. She was tiny then, now she's a bag of fat."

"She's cute."

"Cute? She's the most beautiful creature on the planet!" Mark laughed softly. She stood back up, turning on the main lights. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks, I'm fine."

"Well, come in. I'll just get this little one a snack and then we can talk."

She came back after a few minutes to find Mark sitting on her couch. His coat was against the back of the couch. Holly was curled beside him, fast asleep and snoring loudly, and Mark was running his hand along her back. She smiled at the picture they made. She always found Holly's snores so comforting.

She sat on the other side of the couch, kicking off her shoes. She raised her legs, stuffing her feet beneath her. "So…" she started, glancing at Mark. He stopped caressing Holly's back at once.

"So," he echoed, a bit awkwardly. Then he looked at her seriously, honestly. "You look really good."

For a moment, it felt as if the old Mark was back. "Thanks. You too."

"You're just saying," he protested meekly.

"No, I'm not," she insisted. He did look good, now that he let go sarcasm and angst. He looked grown-up, still somewhat dorky, yeah, but at the same time, he looked kind of… handsome…?

She stopped herself. She couldn't go there. She wouldn't think about it. "So how are you?" she asked in her most neutral tone.

"Good. I'm working."

"Filming?"

"Yeah. Independent films and documentaries mostly. So far so good."

"Still in the Village?"

"No, actually, we just moved out last year."

Her heart stopped a beat. 'We'… it could have been a girlfriend, or a wife, but somehow she got the feeling it wasn't that, not at all. She thought she'd ask anyway. "We?"

"Roger and I. Collins is away a lot."

She felt her lips curl into a small smile when he mentioned their names. She assumed they were all gone. She thought she'd never see them again when she left, but now she realized how much she missed them. "How are they?"

"They have their days, but as long as they take their AZT they're okay."

"Mimi?" she asked hopefully.

Mark shook his head sorrowfully. "Mimi was down with pneumonia two years ago. She didn't have a chance."

She should have known that. Mimi was never that strong. "How Roger took it?"

"Pretty well, thank God. He… they got married before it happened. Mimi didn't want to do it this way, but Roger… Well, you know how he is when he wants something. He said it would be the only way he'd be able to handle this. And now that she's gone, I think he was right." He paused, as if to get himself together, and then looked up again, his expression changing ever so slightly. "How are you, Maureen?"

She was a bit taken-aback by his question. In the past three years or so, no one actually cared how she was. No one asked her that question for a long time. It was weird even to consider her reply. "How am I, well… I'm… okay, I guess," she said, looking up at him. "I'm really glad to see you, Mark. In spite of what happened earlier."

He looked as if he didn't want to be reminded of that. "Yeah, I'm sorry I snapped at you at your dressing-room."

"No, that's okay. I understand. You just… surprised me by showing up there, that's all."

He hesitated, then asked, "So, do you wanna hear what I have to say?"

Did she? She wasn't sure. "I guess… I'll have to, one way or another."

"First tell me something," he said, taking something out of the inner pocket of his coat. She held back a gasp when she realized what it was. "You came to give me that before you left." She could read the question in his eyes before he even uttered it. "Why?"

"I can't believe you kept it," she whispered, hesitantly taking the ring from his hand.

"I was telling myself the same thing when you gave it to me," Mark replied softly, looking straight at her. His tone overwhelmed her. "I didn't expect you to have it after you dumped me. I didn't see you wear it, so I figured-"

"I didn't wear it. I mean I did, I…" she laughed nervously. It sounded so silly. "I put it on a necklace."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure." How could she tell him it was simply a matter of instincts back then? "You said you talked to Joanne," she half said, half asked, wishing to switch this conversation as far away from the ring issue as possible. "Are you still in touch with her?"

"Every now and again. She opened her own firm two years ago, so she's swamped with work ever since."

"Good for her." She meant it. No one deserved to be successful as Joanne deserved it. She was always so devoted to her work. She earned it.

"Yeah, we became pretty close after you…" his voice trailed off. "It was her who saw a picture of you in a magazine 6 months ago. This is how we knew you were back in town, through that article they made on your show."

"If you knew I was here 6 months ago, why didn't you come to see me back then?"

"I don't know. I guess I figured you'd be busy with rehearsals, and the article never specified where the rehearsals took place." And then, as if realizing he was there for a different purpose, he shook his head. "This is not what I came to talk to you about," he said quietly. He took the ring from her and placed it carefully on the coffee table. "I came to tell you about Nadia."

Just hearing the name again gave her chills, which was kind of silly. It shouldn't have bothered her back then; Mark was free to do what he wanted, to be with whom he wanted. And it definitely shouldn't bother her now. It was ancient history. There was really no need to open old wounds again. "Mark, just forget it."

"No. I wouldn't have been here tonight if I didn't think it was worth telling you the truth."

"Why? It's really not such a big deal. So you had a girlfriend. I was just a bit surprised because I didn't know you were seeing anyone, and I'm fine with it. Why wouldn't I-" She stopped abruptly as he reached out his hand to touch hers. She felt her heart flutter in spite of herself at the warmth of his hand. She looked at him questionably.

"Nadia is not my girlfriend."

Now that she wasn't expecting.

He seemed to have noticed, for he laughed softly and continued. "If you weren't in such a hurry to leave, you would have known it years ago. She's my cousin. She was on vacation from school and came to New York. She needed a place to stay so we took her in."

She just stared at him, feeling the room closing in on her. She felt so stupid. His cousin? "How come I didn't meet her at your nephew's Bris then?" she asked weakly.

"Because she was studying in Florida and couldn't make it."

There was death silence in the room, except for Holly's constant snoring. She really didn't know what to say. Inside, she was scorning herself. She felt so damn stupid. How could she run into wrong conclusions so fast? This wasn't like her, she was more reasonable than that! What the hell was she thinking? If she waited just one moment longer, maybe it would all have ended up differently, maybe they were-

Mark shifted slightly in his seat, his sudden movement shaking her out of her reverie. "I know it's been years, but I just wanted to clear this out, just in case."

"Just in case?" she repeated, not really sure what he meant by that, still a bit shaken by her own stupidity.

Before she knew it, he leaned over above the sleeping dog to lay a kiss on her lips.

"I'll understand if I'm too late," he said quietly, slowly pulling away.

Her mind wanted to scream at him that he was too late, 5 damn years too late, that she didn't care who he was with back then and she surely didn't care now, that he'd better just go and forget all about it.

But her heart was saying otherwise.

She closed the small distance between them and pulled at the front of his dress-shirt, bringing him closer for another kiss. He seemed surprised, but only for a moment before he leaned forward, deepening the kiss. He placed his palm against her cheek, holding her in place. Her head was reeling, her heart beating like crazy. She had no idea how it happened. One moment they were talking like old friends and the next moment… were they back together? It felt as if everything surfaced back up, as if they never really parted, as if they continued just from where they last left off. Were those feelings really still there after all this time? Things were moving way to fast than she intended them to. No. That was wrong.

"I need this to go slow," she said breathlessly, pulling away.

Mark grinned, looking as flushed as she felt. "Boy, you kind of sound like me," he said, removing her hair from her face.

She smiled, relieved to detect that familiar gleam in his eyes again. Then something occurred to her and she nearly jumped off her seat. "Crap. The party. I have to…" her voice trailed off and she looked at him sorrowfully. "I must get there."

"That's okay, I understand," he said, getting up. They just stood there, looking at one another uncertainly. Now what? "So, I guess I'll be going then."

She didn't want him to go. Not so fast, not after she got him back. If she got him back. Ugh, whatever. "Why don't you come with me?"

"To the party?"

"Unless you've got something against music and expensive champagne."

He hesitated, but then shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm not really dressed up for a party like that."

Even though he was dressed pretty nicely, she knew most men would probably show up looking more stylish and sophisticated. Not that she cared, but she didn't want him to feel out of place there. She smiled. The person who could solve her problem was just a phone call away. "Oh, we'll dress you up all right. My agent can take care of that."

Mark smiled. "Then sure, I'll go to that party with you."

"Great," she replied, leaning closer to kiss him. It felt so weird, yet so amazing at the same time. She pulled away quickly, reluctantly. They were running out of time. "I gotta change. Watch some TV or something. Answer the door when your clothes get here, okay?"

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. "Sure thing."

It felt as if she was dancing her way down the hall and into her room.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Once in her bedroom, she reached for the phone and clicked the speed dial for her agent's cell. She knew Leila was probably either furious or worried, and definitely wondering where the hell was she.

She answered on the second ring. "Why are you still at home?"

"Something came up," she answered vaguely. "Leila, I need you to do something for me."

"Speak out, Darling, I'm listening."

"I need you to find André and tell him to get me a tux as soon as he can."

"What? Are you out of your mind, Maureen? Get your ass over here, will you? There are tons of reporters waiting for you to show up, what's this nonsense about a tux? Just get here."

"I'll get there, I promise, just get me this tux. I need it for a friend of mine."

"Oh," said Leila, in a tone that indicated that now she was interested. "And who is this 'friend' of yours, if I may ask?"

She laughed. "It's an old friend, he came to see me tonight. Tell André he's 5'8, and not to go wild with his choices this time. Something nice and classic will be great, none of those pinks and greens he likes so much."

"Ah, but he will be so disappointed," Leila said jokingly. "Alright, Darling, I'll take care of it. Be sure to get here before the party is over, huh? You were marvelous tonight, and I'm not the only one who thinks that."

She couldn't help but smile in satisfaction. "Thanks, Leila. I'll see you in a bit."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

She loved the dress André chose for her. She adored it. It was probably the most beautiful thing she ever wore in her life. And it looked so damn expensive, she just knew she'd ruin it somehow tonight. It was a lavender-colored satin gown, so bright it got a pearly shade when it came in contact with the light. Its design was simple but stunning, showing off her figure without being too slutty or inappropriate, ending with a small trail behind her. Yeah, André was a fashion genius. She was so lucky to have him.

She was fixing her hair when the doorbell rang. Thank God, André worked fast. They were running late as it was. Holly's barking prevented her from hearing what was going on out there, but then after a while, Mark called, "Maureen, where can I-"

"The guest room is the second door down the hall!" she called back, reaching for her earrings. The finishing touch.

She lingered in front of the full-length mirror that was on her closet, looking critically at her reflection. Her hair was down, curling softly down her back. Its dark color was a nice contrast to the shiny glow of the gown. Yeah, she told herself, smiling in satisfaction. She liked what she saw. After making sure she had her lipstick in her purse, she took a deep breath and left the room.

Mark wasn't in the living-room when she entered, but Holly was. She was now curled on the armchair, raising her head as if to acknowledge her. She smiled and walked over there, patting her dog's head. "Hey sweetie. Mommy has to go out again. You just stay here and have a good nap and I'll see you in a-"

A rustle made her turn. Mark entered the living-room, straightening the jacket of his tux. Then he spotted her by the armchair, and his eyes grew big. His jaw nearly dropped to the floor. She smiled and stood up. "I'll take it from your expression that my stylist made a good choice on this one?" she asked, walking towards him.

"Definitely a good choice," he said weakly, staring at her as if for the first time. If anyone else would have looked at her the same way Mark did just now, she would have kicked his ass; knowing Mark, he probably didn't even realize he was staring.

"Are you ready to go?" She could feel him holding back a gasp when she ran a hand over his jacket to straighten it a bit. He nodded silently, as if not trusting himself with words. Ooh, boy. That was going to be one tough evening.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

She found her way to the balcony, and sighed with relief as she leaned against the railing. The air in the small ballroom was getting so packed with alcohol fumes and expensive perfumes; she just had to get away. It was chilly out, but she hardly felt it. She took a sip of champagne, and laid the tall glass on the stone railing. New York was stretching beneath her in all its glory, stunningly beautiful even at this time of night.

This was how fame felt like, then; empty and shallow, with endless parties and music and pointless chatter. She would never have figured. She always believed it to be more glamorous than that. She was almost shocked to realize that this was all it was. Maybe it was better when unreachable. Everything got spoiled once you had it. Maybe it was the same with fame.

Of course she loved the attention. All those photographers that took her picture the moment she stepped in, the flashes that were blinding her, the applause, all meant for her, the reporters who shot their questions at her. She loved it. But it was as if she realized it wasn't everything. She wanted more. And she could have had more; she had her opportunity right there. She just wasn't sure how wise it would be. It was obvious that the old spark was still there, but it's been 5 years. She had changed, a lot, and it was only reasonable to assume that Mark did too. And she still had those feelings for him; they definitely surfaced back up again after learning the truth about Nadia, after that kiss. But what if they were rushing things, what if-

"There you are."

She turned, startled. Mark walked out to the balcony, looking a bit concerned. She shook her head, sending her doubts away. "I needed some fresh air."

"They're gonna read the midnight reviews soon."

"I'd better stay out here then," she laughed nervously. At least she'd be on the right place in case she'd have to jump off the building or something.

"I'm sure you did great," he replied, walking over to her. Then he gave her a closer look. "It doesn't look like you're having the time of your life," he observed.

She laughed softly. "I've got too much on my mind for that."

He leaned against the railing next to her. "Anything I can do?"

"I'm afraid not."

He hesitated, then said, "Maybe I shouldn't have come."

"What are you talking about?"

"About tonight. It's bothering you, I shouldn't have-"

One more step, and she was standing in front of him. She laid a finger on his lips; his voice trailed off at once. "I thought we had this guilt-thing covered," she said in a low voice.

"It still seems to bother you, so I thought-"

"That's not what's bothering me. Well, not exactly." She looked up at him. "What are we doing, Mark? I mean, when I left, I thought I'd never see you guys again, and then tonight you're there in my show, in my apartment, in my life, it's just… do we really want to go back to how things were 5 years ago?"

"It doesn't have to be like that. Things happened. It can be different. Better."

"Yeah, but what if it won't be better?"

He laughed kind of desperately. "Here you go again," he said. "Why do you always have to think so far ahead?"

She shrugged. She just did. This was how she was. "How is it possible that it's not bothering you? Not even a bit?"

"Because I don't care about tomorrow, or next week, or next year," he stated simply. "No day but today, remember?"

She almost forgot. And now that she remembered, it brought back another thing, a promise, she never thought she'd be able to keep.

"I want you to do something for me, Maureen."

"What?"

"I want you to promise… that you'll watch Mark."

"Mark? I don't understand."

"Just say that you will, honey. That's all I need to know."

"Why would you want me to-"

"You know what I mean, honey."

Mark took both her hands in his, bringing reality back. She blinked, slightly disoriented. The vision was so vivid, so alive, as if it happened moments ago. Mark looked at her, into her, in a way she remembered from way before. "Right now, this is what you want?" he asked, his voice soft.

She remembered that question, and the answer she made to it long ago. She made up her mind. She'd follow her instincts. I'm gonna keep the promise, Angel, she thought. I won't let you down. A slow smile curled on her lips. "Right now, this is what I want." Not really thinking about what would have happened if someone would decide to choose this very moment to get some fresh air, she wrapped her arms around Mark's neck, slowly bringing his head down closer to hers. She flashed a teasing smile at him. "Is that a good answer?"

"It's the best answer," he replied softly, leaning forward to capture her lips with his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close, as their kisses became more and more fervent.

"Let's get out of here," she murmured, pulling away reluctantly. She couldn't risk them being caught, not so fast. She wanted to keep it for herself before any of it got to the press.

Mark smiled. "What happened to taking it slow?"

She ran a hand across his chest and felt him shiver under her touch. "I think you made me change my mind."

He was blushing now, bright pink. "We can't just leave."

"Leave the acting to me, and just work with me when necessary." She was about to enter the ballroom again, when she heard him calling her name.

"Maureen?"

She turned, giving him a questioning look. "Yeah?"

He didn't say it, but she could read it clearly in his eyes. She smiled. She knew. She knew it now; she realized she knew it all along.

"I know. Me too."

Dedicated to my very own Pug, Joy :)