Maureen's New Job

By: Ethiwen

Disclaimer: Still don't own RENT or the characters of said show. It all belongs to the late (and great!) Jonathon Larson. Twelfth Night belongs to Shakespeare.

Summary: Tales of Maureen's new endeavor into Shakespeare.

Ships: MoJo

Warnings: Lesbians--If you have a problem with it your reading the wrong fanfiction…actually, you'd be in the wrong fandom. It's canon!

A couple OC actors and a director…if that bothers you… Don't worry they will not get with either of our favorite -cough- 'sisters'.

Spoilers: Maureen loves Joanne, Joanne loves Maureen. Not a rocky relationship fic. Probably won't mention any other characters at all.

Author's Notes: Last Chapter! Hooray! And then on to more fanfiction!

For the record, this is also an educational fic. You see, most people mispronounce the simple word 'doth'. No, the 'o' is not pronounced as in 'blonde' or 'long' but rather an 'o' sound as in 'shove' or 'continue'.

Thanks go out to the Maureen to my Joanne, Amanda, who inspired this fic.

And thanks to all of the people who have continued to review this and check for updates. It is -finally- done.

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Chapter 3: Too Chic for Shakespeare

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"Joanne, do pass the milk of cow, for I do parcheth."

How long was this going to go on!? It had been a week to the day since Maureen had decided to adopt Shakespearean as her language of choice. Unfortunately it was just as bad as the first day.

Joanne silently passed the milk across the breakfast table, subdued and resigned to the fact that her obstinate girlfriend would not listen to her corrections.

"Pookie…eth. I must goeth to rehearsal at midday."

Rehearsal? Maureen had rehearsal?!? Thank goodness! For a few blissful hours she would be saved! Joanne smiled at the hope of a small piece of salvation, and the hope that the director may correct her when she was at reh--wait! That was it! Joanne only had to be at rehearsal when the director corrected Maureen. She had found a permanent solution! She was saved.

She cleared her throat. "Maureen, do you happen to need a ride to rehearsal? I'd love to stop by and watch you rehearse for a bit before I head to work." Joanne had a late shift that night, just a meeting with a client at four. She could spare a couple of hours.

"Pookie-eth! I would be most pleaséd with that decisioneth! That dahth excite me much."

Joanne cringed, but forced a grin. "Me too, Mo. Me too."

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Joanne sat in the front row of theatre, not wanting to miss a thing that happened when Mo was corrected.

"All right," the director started. "This is a professional production. I told you to be off books, so if I see a script, you're out. There are thousands of out of work actors and actresses in this city," he clapped his hands together. "You can be replaced." Then he grinned. "So I thought we'd start with the Fool's scene with Olivia…'cause that's the easiest to block. Sooo…on the stage we go."

Maureen and a black-haired boy went on the stage.

"Where do you want us, Mr. Karlan?" The boy asked.

"Ohhh…Alex… you're standing Center, actually... Malvolio you're up there as well and Olivia's Men…. Maureen?"

"Yes, Mr. K?"

"You come on from up-stage-left, through the door to your house, followed by Malvolio and attendants. You are going to cross in front of him and head downstage right to the exit. Malvolio--Thomas, will follow you, but the attendants will seize the fool and try to drag him back out up-stage-left. Olivia stops to listen to him, and does not exit, but crosses back closer to him. The fool struggles against his captors until it is clear that Olivia is appeasing him…then he will be released, by a motioning from Maureen. Got it?"

A chorus of assent from the actors.

"Good. Begin when you are ready."

Maureen and her attendants exited the stage, and came right back on, this time in character.

((Olivia/Maureen))

"Take the fool away."

((Fool))

"Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady."

((Olivia/Maureen))

"Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you:

besides, you grow dishonest."

((Fool))

"Two faults, Madonna, that drink and good counsel

will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is

the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man mend

himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if

he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing

that's mended is but patched: virtue that

transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that

amends is but patched with virtue. If that this

simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not,

what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but

calamity, so beauty's a flower. The lady bade take

away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away."

((Olivia/Maureen))

"Sir, I bade them take away you."

((Fool))

"Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non

facit monachum; that's as much to say as I wear not

motley in my brain. Good Madonna, give me leave to

prove you a fool."

((Olivia/Maureen))

"Can you do it?"

((Fool))

"Dexterously, good Madonna."

((Olivia/Maureen))

Make your proof.

((Fool))

"I must catechize you for it, Madonna: good my mouse

of virtue, answer me."

((Olivia/Maureen))

"Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof."

((Fool))

"Good Madonna, why mournest thou?"

((Olivia/Maureen))

"Good fool, for my brother's death."

((Fool))

"I think his soul is in hell, Madonna."

((Olivia/Maureen))

"I know his soul is in heaven, fool."

((Fool))

"The more fool, Madonna, to mourn for your brother's

soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen."

((Olivia/Maureen))

"What think you of this fool, Malvolio? Dahth he not mend?"

((Malvolio))

"Yes and--"

"Hold on," Mr. Karlan said. "Maureen would you repeat your last line for me?"

"What think you of this fool, Malvolio? Dahth he not mend?"

"The pronunciation is 'doth'. With an 'uh' sound. Moving on."

"What think you of this fool, Malvolio? Doth he not mend?" Maureen said, catching eye contact with Joanne.

Joanne simply smiled.

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"So, I don't think that Karlan guy knows what he's talking about," Maureen said nonchalantly.

"He seems like a very capable director to me," Joanne shrugged.

"I don't think so," she put on her sunglasses. "I'm too chic for Shakespeare anyway. Maybe I won't finish."

"Maureen!"

"What?"

"Since when are you a quitter? You were so excited about this! You can't quit because of one little mistake!"

"But I need to be perfect!" Maureen shouted, before regaining control.

"I need to be perfect," she whispered again.

Joanne drew the drama queen into an embrace. "Maureen?"

"Yeah?" the diva answered, muffled with her face pressed against her lover.

"I love you…flaws and all. You're perfect to me, just the way you are."

"Really?" Maureen lifted her head to look at her girlfriend.

"Really. Mo, Shakespeare is not going to beat you…not if you don't let him. Besides, he is kind of…well…dead."

Maureen giggled. "I guess you're right. I'll finish…if you'll help me. Will you…do you think we could try again?"

"Sure, Honeybear. We'll try again."
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A/N: So that's it folks. Thanks for staying with this.