A/N: Can you believe it? I actually updated. Sorry, my life has been really busy lately, although I don't want to bore you with details. From now on, updates will be much more frequent. Feedback is more than appreciated; in other words: Please review!!! Thanks to my beta, DivaActress.


When Mark returned to the loft, he could sense trouble in the air as soon as he opened the door. Roger was waiting for him, his arms crossed in front of his chest and a look of cold fury on his face.

"Spill!" he commanded, cutting Mark off in mid-greeting.

"Spill what?" the filmmaker asked weakly, in a last desperate attempt to lie his way out of this trap. Roger was barefooted and in his old plaid pajama pants, but he looked ready to kill nonetheless.

"I was just out buying..." Mark cast wildly around for something he could have been getting, but Roger interrupted him again.

"Save it, Mark. Mimi told me where you were. I don't really know why you think you have to meddle in my life..."

"Meddle in your life?" Mark asked, firing up at once, "Yeah, and a really great fucking life you have, Rog! Just in case you care: You have a son!"

The words seemed to hang in the air like a cloud of poisonous fume.

Roger sighed, the fight leaking out of him. "What did she say?"

Mark finally but down his bag and ran his hand tiredly through his hair.

"Not much," he admitted, "she thought you sent me and was pretty pissed by that. Anyway, if you wanna get to know Andrew, you're supposed to give her a call and if not, well, pretty much just stay away."

"Huh." Roger sank onto the duct-taped couch. "Tell me what to do!"

Mark couldn't resist pointing out, "A minute ago you told me to stop meddling in your life," but he relented at the pained look in Roger's eyes. "I don't know. If you were any other guy, I'd say give her a call at once. But things being as they are..."

He didn't have to say it out right. Roger wasn't going to be around forever. Even if he and Andrew did get along, he would probably be dead before Andy went to college.

"Yeah," the rocker agreed, "pretty fucked up." He chuckled mirthlessly. "I should apologize to Mimi. I yelled at her pretty harshly earlier." Standing up, he stretched and listened to several joints in his back pop.

"See you in a few," he called out to Mark who was unpacking his camera from his beat-up old messenger bag. Then he climbed out the window and down the fire escape.


Mimi's window was open and he climbed in. She was standing at the door and was staring bleakly into a cup of coffee. Apparently, she was so concentrated on listening for footsteps on the stairs that she completely forgot about the window.

Roger crept up behind her and put his arms around her waist. She flinched and hot coffee spilled down his arms, but he ignored the pain and whispered into her hair, "I'm sorry, baby. I love you!"

She turned in his arms and put her head on his chest. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have stuck my nose in your business."

Roger shook his head. "You're my girl! My business is your business. It was just... seeing Emma again and then this kid... it just freaked me out." He sighed. "She told Mark that I could call her if I wanted to get to know... you know!"

Mimi stepped out of his embrace and led him over to the couch, pushing him down on it and taking a seat on his lap.

"You don't know what you're supposed to do," she stated matter-of-factly.

Roger nodded.

"Call her!" she said at once. "He's your kid. Call her and let it be her call if she introduces you as her friend or as his daddy."

He sighed once more and kissed her hair. "I'm scared, Meems."


It had been a week since Mark's encounter with Roger's past.

Emma was sweeping up fallen leaves and cuttings when the doorbell announced another customer.

"Be with you in a minute!" she called without looking up.

"Take your time," the answer came from a voice she would have recognized out of all the voices in the world. She straightened up so quickly her neck gave a harsh cracking sound. Ignoring the momentary stab of pain, she looked across the store at Roger, who, in ripped jeans, a green t-shirt and his black leather jacket, looked very out-of-place amongst the roses, chrysanthemums, lilies and orchids.

"Hi, Emma," he greeted her sheepishly.

She nodded, momentarily stunned into silence. After a moment, she cleared her throat. "I had hoped that perhaps you'd call. But this is unexpected. If you were hoping to see Andy, it's a little early for that. He's still in school."

"I know," Roger said quickly. "I just wanted to discuss the situation with you."

Emma shrugged and pulled off her rubber gloves. "There's really not that much to discuss. Either you want to be a part of Andy's life or you don't. It's that simple."

"For you perhaps," Roger snapped, "but that's not unexpected, is it. You like the easy way."

If Emma had opened her eyes a little farther, they would have popped out of their sockets.

"The easy way?" she asked, incredulous. "Yeah, since it was so bloody easy to raise a kid in New York City without a father."

"I suppose it was easier not to tell me about him," Roger shot back, "instead of having to actually have something to do with me again."

"I did this for you!" Emma screamed at him.

They both became quiet, the silence crackling with suppressed emotions.

"This is a little much for me!" Roger finally said. "A while ago, you were just a pleasant memory of my past and now we have a kid..."

"I have a child," she interrupted him. "Whether or not you have one depends entirely on you."

He ran his hands through his hair and groaned. Unable to keep looking at her, he started pacing. The smell of the different flowers and plants, along with the musty scent of moist earth was nauseating.

"My situation is difficult," he finally managed to say. "How about I give you my number and my address and you come by some time and just take a look." He looked her square in the eyes again. "I think I want to get to know Andy. Whether I'll be a part of his life, and whether or not he's gonna get to know me as his... his father; that I'll leave up to you."


Emma's apartment was on the third floor, along with another one. Her neighbor was a nice guy who had looked after Andy a couple of times and sometimes, Emma invited him to dinner with them since he lived alone after his lover had died from AIDS. He himself was HIV positive, but Emma, knowing how very responsible he was, wasn't worried about him being around Andrew.

Emma had invited him to dinner again that evening and he had joined her in the kitchen to give her a hand in order to get everything done before Andrew returned from basketball training.

"Are you finally gonna tell me what's wrong with you, sweetheart?" he asked her while he was slicing carrots. Emma had been constantly distracted for the past several days and it hadn't gone unnoticed.

She put down the potato she had been peeling, heaved a deep sigh and said, "I met Andy's dad. He lives in Manhattan. He wants to get to know him."

"Well, isn't that great?" he beamed at her. "Come on, give the guy a chance, he could have changed in ten years."

Emma laughed and resumed the peeling of her potatoes. "I don't know so much about that. He still seemed like the old Roger to me."

His face fell a little. "Does this... Roger... have a last name?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

A worried look crept across Emma's features. "Davis. It's Roger Davis." Her neighbor looked positively horrified now and she grasped his arm. "Gordon, what is it?"

"I think I know Andy's dad..." Gordon said slowly. "Emma, I think I know him... from my Life Support group."


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