"Mo, whatcha doin?"

"Umm… I don't actually know," she sighed.

"Need some help?"

The boy tried not to laugh at his girlfriend who'd managed to get flour on her nose and forehead and was currently trying to dig eggshell out of her cracked egg.

"Yes," she pouted, dropping her arms to her sides and sighing.

"Come here," he said, tugging her towards him. "You're covered in flour."

"I know," she mumbled as he gently brushed his fingers across her cheek.

"Use the eggshell to get the pieces out with," he said, picking up half of her shell. "Like this."

"Oh, sure, it works for you," she fussed, leaning over his shoulder to watch. "Ang, let's face it. I suck at baking."

"No you don't," he smiled, throwing the shell away and dumping the egg into the bigger bowl. Angel picked up the eggbeater and placed it in the diva's hand. "Now mix."

Maureen raised an eyebrow, giving him a look before she flipped the switch and mixed the batter.

"What color frosting do you wanna put on?" he asked, reaching into the cupboard for food coloring.

"How about orange?"

"Does Joanne like orange?"

"I dunno, but I do," she giggled.

"Yes, I know, but this is not your cake, honey," Angel said, pulling out a few of the bottles.

"How about blue? Or purple?"

"Let's do blue," Angel said. "The purple looks kind of gross."

"Okay," Maureen nodded, turning off the machine. "I'm done. Let's get this in the oven."

"Here," he said, handing her a greased pan. "You hold, I'll pour."

"Why do you get to pour?" she asked, holding the pan steady.

"Cause you'd make a mess," he teased, poking her side before pouring the batter.

"Oh, thanks," she said sarcastically. "Hey, wanna watch a movie while this bakes?"

"Sure," he said, setting the bowl in the sink and opening the oven for her. "What do you wanna watch?"

"Something good," Maureen said.

"Very specific."

"I know," she grinned, kissing his cheek. "Come on."

With a sigh, Joanne picked up the phone. She dialed Roger's number for what seemed like the thousandth time in the last couple hours. So far no one had answered, but the brainy girl kept trying him. She tapped her fingers impatiently on her desk. The phone rang once, twice. By the third ring, Joanne was ready to hang up again… but someone picked up. "Hello?" Roger's rough voice sounded like heaven to her ears.

"Hey, Roger." Even over the phone she felt that fluttering in her stomach that always came when she talked to him.

A moment passed in which Joanne heard a scraping noise, a dull thud and a quiet twang of guitar strings. "Hey, baby, how are you?"

"I'm fine… what's going on? You sound out of breath…" Joanne tried not to let her suspicion show in her voice. Either she did a good job of it or Roger was too distracted by whatever he was doing to tell.

"Ah… I'm okay. Nothing's going on, baby, why would you think that?"

She tried and failed to mask her scoff. "Let's see. You've barely spoken to me in a week, you don't return my phone calls, all of our friends stop talking whenever I come around, and when you actually have spoken to me, you're distracted and sullen, like there's something else you'd rather be doing." The brainiac cursed the way that her voice shook as she talked. "Roger… if, if there's someone else - "

"No." The firm, desperate tone of his voice surprised Joanne. "Babe, I promise, there is no one else. You're everything, Jo." Her heart skipped a beat. He'd never spoken like this to her, and the passion in his voice told her he wasn't lying. "The band's been on my back to write more material, and Murray's rehearsing our choir day and night. I'm stressed out, love, and I'm sorry that I've been neglecting you. I'll make it up to you. Dinner, tomorrow night at Julio's."

She smiled, cradling the phone against her ear. She was melting, that was for damn sure. "All right."

Mark looked at himself in the mirror. What was it about him that drew Collins in yet managed to drive him away? Thinking about his boyfriend… or whatever he happened to be to the aide at this point, just served to depress Mark further. He turned from his mirror and gazed out of his window. He wanted Collins. He wanted to be held by Collins, to feel his scratchy whiskers on his neck, the sensation of his lips on his cheek. Something about being away from him undid Mark. He wasn't himself anymore. He needed Collins like a sick person needed medication.

The filmmaker slouched off of his chair, leaving unfinished homework on his desk. He flopped into bed thinking about Collins. A few restless minutes of tossing and turning later, he was still thinking about Collins. A half hour later, he still was. Mark resigned himself to another sleepless night.

Angel tightened his arms around his girl as the movie came to its conclusion. "So, did you like it?" he asked, pushing her thick hair aside so he could kiss her neck.

She giggled. "Yeah, but I like this even more…" Maureen turned from her position between his legs to rest on his chest, planting more kisses on his lips and cheeks. Angel grinned as he lay back. All he could focus on was Maureen, her lips, her smell…

Until he noticed the skirt lying just outside of his closet. Shit. He thought he had managed to hide everything before she came up! "Compi, let me up, just a second…" Maureen laughed again, rolling off of him to lean on the wall next to his bed. He scrambled off of his bed and kicked the skirt into his closet. Or… would've if the damn thing hadn't gotten caught on his foot. Now the bright pink and white skirt was in plain view, and with Angel's lack of sisters in the house, he had no one to blame it on.

Maureen was looking at him strangely. "Angel?"

Angel sighed, picked up the skirt and sat down next to her. "Compi, there's something I need to tell you."

My author's note:

Hey all you people in world. I'm Jill (so-bohemian-like-you), the co-author. I'd just like to let everyone know that any late chapters are totally my fault. I'm moving into my dorm this week and this entire summer has been insane. So… I'm so sorry!

All right, groveling is over. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, especially cordyangel (love your penname, Angel so belongs with Cordy, she's much better than Buffy) and ickle-s-10. You guys all rock and I hope you like this chappie as much as the rest.